The gavel has fallen, and its echo reverberates across a nation perpetually on the edge. After a decade of legal wrangling, dramatic twists, and profound political ramifications, Mazi Nnamdi Kanu, the leader of the proscribed Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment by Justice James Omotosho of the Federal High Court in Abuja on November 20, 2025.
The charges, spanning acts of terrorism, incitement to violence, and membership in a proscribed organisation, culminated in a verdict that was as definitive as it was divisive. For the Nigerian state, it was a long-awaited judicial triumph against a figure accused of fuelling a violent secessionist campaign in the South-east. For Kanu’s millions of supporters and many observers, it was the tragic climax of a flawed process, a political masquerade dressed in judicial robes.
The question now hanging heavy in the air, far beyond the confines of the courtroom, is stark: was justice served?
A Saga of a Decade: From Arraignment to ‘Show Me the Law’
The trial of Nnamdi Kanu is a saga that has stretched across ten years, four judges, and multiple administrations. It began in 2015 with charges of treasonable felony, morphing over time into a more severe terrorism indictment. The case witnessed Kanu’s initial detention, his bail in 2017, the controversial military raid on his home in Abia State, his flight from the country, and his extraordinary rendition from Kenya in 2021, an act the Court of Appeal would later condemn as “oppressive” and illegal.
This long and winding road reached its final stretch under Justice Omotosho, who took over the case in March 2025 and pursued an accelerated hearing. The prosecution, led by the formidable Chief Adegboyega Awomolo, SAN, closed its case in June, presenting evidence largely built on Kanu’s own broadcasts, videos, and public statements. These, the state argued, were not mere agitations but direct incitements that led to the killing of security personnel, the destruction of public property, and a reign of fear in the South-east enforced through violent sit-at-home orders.
It was at this critical juncture that the trial took its most dramatic turn. After his no-case submission was dismissed in September, Kanu, in a move that stunned the legal community, sacked his entire team of seasoned Senior Advocates of Nigeria, including Chief Kanu Agabi and Chief Mike Ozekhome. He chose to represent himself.
What followed was a spectacle that transformed a solemn legal proceeding into a theatre of defiance. For several adjournments, the court patiently, some would say excessively, indulged Kanu, urging him to open his defence. Justice Omotosho even offered to provide a lawyer from the Legal Aid Council. Kanu refused. Instead of presenting a defence, he filibustered, challenging the very foundation of the charge. His refrain, “Show me the law!” and interjections like “Omotosho, you are reading rubbish!” became the soundtrack to the trial’s final act. He was eventually ejected from the courtroom on judgement day for his disruptions.
This strategic choice or lack thereof, proved fatal to his case. In law, a defendant who refuses to enter a defence is deemed to have rested his case on the prosecution’s evidence. The court was left with a one-sided narrative, which, no matter how compelling, remained uncontroverted.
The Anatomy of the Judgement: Law Over Mercy?
Justice Omotosho’s 144-page judgement was meticulous and heavily reliant on the evidence before him. He found Kanu guilty on all seven counts. For counts of terrorism, inciting violence, and directing attacks against the state, the prescribed punishment under the Terrorism Prevention Amendment Act 2013 was death.
Here, the judge exercised judicial mercy, drawing on biblical persuasion. Citing Matthew 22:23, he commuted the death sentence to life imprisonment for several counts, while handing down additional 20-year and 5-year sentences for others, to run concurrently.
Beyond the sentence, the court imposed stringent conditions: Kanu is to be kept in protective custody, denied access to any digital devices, the very tools of his alleged offences and the unregistered radio transmitter he was accused of importing was forfeited to the state.
In his reasoning, the judge acknowledged the right to self-determination under international law but drew a firm line at violence. “The defendant cannot be allowed to remain in a sane human society,” Omotosho stated, noting that Kanu had “turned himself into a tyrant who can kill at will.”
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The Legal Community Weighs In: Strategy, Not Bias, as the Undoing
To understand whether justice was done, one must look beyond the emotive public reactions to the cold, technical assessments of legal practitioners. The consensus among many senior lawyers is that the verdict was less a product of judicial bias and more a consequence of a catastrophic defence strategy.
Kunle Edun, SAN, commended Justice Omotosho’s dexterity and case management. “I do not think that any reasonable person conversant with the proceedings will say that the trial Judge did not give the Defendant a fair chance to prove his innocence,” he stated. He dismissed rumours that the judge did not write the judgement himself, pointing to stylistic and jurisprudential consistencies with Omotosho’s past rulings. “We should give our Judges some respect,” he urged.
For Aikhunegbe Anthony Malik, SAN, the “show me the law” refrain was a profound misunderstanding of court procedure. “The surrounding facts in the entire trial saga already beg the question with an answer,” he argued. “How else could the court have shown the law to a person to whom the charge was read and who indicated that he understood the charge, pleaded not guilty and even went ahead to cross-examine the witnesses?”
He clarified that the repealed 2013 Terrorism Act was the correct law under which to try Kanu, as it was in force when the offences were allegedly committed, a point reinforced by savings provisions in the new 2022 Act.
P.D. Pius, a legal practitioner in Abuja, offered a stark simplification. He believes Kanu had a credible chance of an acquittal had he stuck with his original legal team. “I am very convinced that they had laid a foundation for a defence that… may have succeeded in calling evidence that may cast doubt on the prosecution’s case,” he noted. He pointed to the potential to discredit evidence linking Kanu to specific killings, like that of Ahmed Gulak, and to challenge the authenticity of the video evidence. By choosing self-representation, Kanu gambled and lost. “The convict is very lucky to have been given a life sentence when his prosecution was done by a distinguished senior Lawyer, while he had no Lawyer at all to defend him.”
The most scathing indictment came from within Kanu’s own former camp. Sir Ifeanyi Ejiofor, who was part of Kanu’s legal team for years, issued a blistering critique of the “consultants” who took over the case. He accused them of turning a high-stakes legal battle into a “TikTok legal carnival.”
“Instead of crafting legal strategy, they crafted Instagram stories. Instead of mastering case law, they mastered camera angles,” Ejiofor lamented. He claimed that a political solution was within reach before these “legal lightweights intoxicated by social-media relevance” derailed the process. “They railroaded him, knowingly or unknowingly, into the savage pit of a full criminal trial.”
The Political Echoes and the Road Ahead
The conviction of Nnamdi Kanu is not merely a legal event; it is a profound political moment. For the government, it represents a decisive victory in its battle against separatist movements. However, as Major Ben Aburime (Rtd.) observes, the underlying grievances that birthed the Kanu phenomenon remain unaddressed.
“The systemic marginalisation of the Igbo race since the end of the Nigerian Civil War is not in dispute,” Aburime stated. He linked the rise of figures like Kanu to the “activities of armed Fulani Herdsmen nationwide” and the “vexatious utterances” of certain northern elements, creating a fertile ground for separatist sentiments.
Marx Ikongbeh, a legal practitioner in Abuja, argues that a political solution is now the most viable path forward. “We have walked down this road before,” he said, referencing the cases of Ralph Uwazuruike and Asari Dokubo. “The continuous fixation of the Government with Mazi Nnamdi Kanu is simply giving him heightened prominence which is what he wants. Perhaps, letting him go will quickly deflate and neutralise him.”
The immediate legal road ahead is an appeal. Kanu’s family has already raised alarms about difficulties in securing a production warrant to bring him from the Sokoto Correctional Facility to Abuja to perfect his appeal documents. This next legal battle will likely revisit the thorny issues of his extraordinary rendition, the validity of the charges, and, crucially, whether his right to a fair trial was ultimately compromised by his own actions or by the process itself.
A Verdict Delivered, A Nation Waiting
In the court of law, a judgement has been delivered. In the court of public opinion and historical reckoning, the verdict is still out. The technicalities of the law may have been satisfied in Justice Omotosho’s courtroom. The evidence was uncontested, the procedure was followed, and the sentence, though severe, was less than the maximum.
Yet, justice is a deeper, more elusive ideal. It requires not just a sound judgement, but a process that is perceived as fundamentally fair, and an outcome that contributes to national healing rather than deepening divisions.
The tragedy of Nnamdi Kanu’s trial is that it may be remembered not for a conclusive establishment of truth, but for a catastrophic defence strategy that left the bench with no alternative. The greater tragedy for Nigeria is that the deep-seated issues of marginalisation, inequity, and the crisis of nationhood that Kanu came to symbolise, remain firmly in the dock, awaiting a verdict that no single courtroom can provide. The gavel has fallen in Abuja, but the echoes of discontent continue to resonate, a stark reminder that while judgements can end trials, they do not always deliver justice.
