advertise with us
HomeNEWSEjimakor: Nnamdi Kanu — Let the Appeal Court speak, a Rejoinder

Ejimakor: Nnamdi Kanu — Let the Appeal Court speak, a Rejoinder

The article, “Nnamdi Kanu: Let the Appeal Speak,” by Abayomi TJ Ishola, published in The Nation on 26 October 2026, correctly observes that public commentary on high-profile judgments can become noisy. However, his argument is less persuasive when it treats legitimate concerns about fair hearing and the integrity of the trial record as mere presumption or political noise that must give way to silence until the Court of Appeal speaks.

The appeal will speak, yes. That is its function. Counsel is, however, entitled, especially in a capital case involving a self-represented defendant, to identify the precise defects that may vitiate the conviction. The public is equally entitled to understand those defects. The danger is not that arguments are aired; it is that the record is reduced to fragments while the full circumstances remain unexamined. Let us examine Ishola’s thesis seriatim.

First: The Bias Allegation and the Decision to Proceed

Ishola is correct that an allegation of bias does not, without more, constitute proof of bias. Nigerian law has long applied an objective test: Would a reasonable, fair-minded and informed observer, knowing the relevant facts, conclude that there was a real possibility that the judge could not bring an impartial mind to the matter? The judge’s subjective belief that he remained impartial does not answer that question.

While Ishola contends that we should “let the appeal speak,” I maintain that we should also let the record speak. And the record is this: On 20 November 2025, Mazi Nnamdi Kanu, representing himself after the withdrawal of a defence team that included Senior Advocates of Nigeria, confronted Justice James Omotosho in open court. He pointedly accused the judge of bias, insisted that pending applications and the opportunity to file a final written address had not been properly addressed, and demanded that the court identify the law under which it proposed to convict him. The exchange was heated. The court ordered his removal, and judgment followed the same day in his absence.

The safer and more just course, particularly in a capital case, would have been to restore order, adjourn the proceedings and formally address the bias allegation on the record. An adjournment would not have paralysed the court. Rather, it would have protected the appearance of justice and strengthened the integrity of the record. Proceeding immediately after a markedly personal confrontation with an unrepresented defendant, followed by his physical removal, creates precisely the circumstances in which a reasonable observer may apprehend hostility or partiality. That is a recognised ground of appeal, not mere conjecture. Similar objective standards govern allegations of apparent bias in other common-law jurisdictions, particularly England, from which Nigeria inherited much of its legal system. This can be independently verified.

Second: Self-Representation Does Not Diminish the Court’s Duty

Kanu’s decision to represent himself, and the court’s subsequent finding that he had waived the opportunity to open his defence, do not resolve the fair-hearing issues. Section 36 of the Constitution remains fully applicable. In capital trials, courts have a heightened obligation to ensure that procedural safeguards are real, not merely notional. Opportunities offered under circumstances that raise questions of fairness do not automatically cure other procedural defects.

Whether those safeguards were sufficient is a question the appellate court will determine from the complete record, including the applications that were pending, the reasons given for proceeding, the circumstances surrounding Kanu’s removal, and the treatment of his final written address.

This is compounded by the question of whether, as a matter of law, the judge should have appointed or assigned a lawyer to represent Kanu despite his objections. To understand why this issue matters, recall that the prosecution’s allocutus was presented by counsel, while Kanu’s own was made by a layperson. Does this not raise questions about the principle of “equality of arms,” which the Supreme Court has held must be respected throughout criminal proceedings?

Third: Other Substantive Grounds Independent of the Confrontation

The article rightly notes that other issues exist and must be examined on their merits. Let us, therefore, examine one of them: the legal basis for the conviction.

The Terrorism (Prevention) Act 2011, as amended in 2013, was repealed by the Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022. Section 36(12) of the Constitution requires that an offence and its penalty be defined in a written law. The constitutional provision also raises the question of whether the applicable law was in force at the relevant time. To be sure, the Terrorism (Prevention) Act 2011, as amended in 2013, under which the trial was conducted, had been repealed before the 2025 conviction.

Although savings provisions may preserve certain pending proceedings, the question remains whether they can sustain a conviction under a repealed penal statute without regard to the applicable transitional provisions and constitutional requirements. They do not automatically resolve the question of which substantive law governs a conviction entered in 2025. Whether the trial court correctly applied the transitional provisions, identified the operative statute and imposed penalties consistent with the applicable law is a technical legal question that cannot be dismissed as emotion or noise. It goes to the validity of the conviction itself.

Similarly, the denial of an opportunity to present a proper final address, the effect of earlier appellate and Supreme Court decisions, and the consequences of extraordinary rendition for the fairness of the subsequent proceedings are matters of record and law. None is answered by the observation that the defendant was disruptive or that judgment was delivered promptly. Disruptive behaviour may stem from agitation, but promptness alone is not a panacea.

Fourth: Public Scrutiny and the Role of Counsel

Lawyers have a duty to their clients, both in court and in the public sphere. In cases involving fundamental rights, the exercise of state power and the limits of judicial authority, they also have a responsibility to explain the legal grounds of a challenge with precision and zeal.

Nelson Mandela’s unjust conviction on charges of treason and related offences drew intense attention from the South African and international media, as well as diplomatic circles, until the apartheid regime eventually yielded and released him from prison. That was not noise. It was a normal and necessary part of public scrutiny.

Journalists report such arguments, and citizens are entitled to evaluate them. Treating every such discussion as an attempt to pre-empt the appellate court confuses advocacy with adjudication and stifles counsel’s legitimate role in public advocacy. Yes, the appellate court will examine the record, the statutes and the relevant authorities. But while informed public discourse does not replace that process, opacity does not strengthen it.

The call to “let the appeal speak” is, therefore, fair and reasonable. But what must also be allowed to speak is the complete record of what occurred before judgment was delivered, the statutory framework under which the conviction was entered, and the constitutional standards of fair hearing that apply, with particular significance, in capital trials.

Those are the questions the Court of Appeal will answer. That said, your guess as to how those questions will be answered is as good as mine.

RELATED ARTICLES
- Advertisment -
sidebar ad banner

Most Popular