A dangerous thing is happening in Nigeria, and Mazi Nnamdi Kanu’s case has exposed it in broad daylight: our judiciary has become so comfortable distorting common sense that ordinary citizens must now become legally literate by force just to protect themselves.
For years, the courts hid behind robes, wigs, Latin maxims, and intimidating jargon to shield the public from understanding how power truly works. But the monstrosity that emerged on 20 November 2025 — when Justice James Omotosho convicted Nnamdi Kanu under a law repealed three years earlier — has forced Nigerians into a crash-course in legal survival.
And for once, Nigerians are asking the right question:
How can you convict a man in 2025 under a law National Assembly buried in 2022?
THE LAW IS NOT DIFFICULT — UNTIL A JUDGE DECIDES TO MAKE IT DIFFICULT
Let’s strip away the legal camouflage.
Let’s speak like human beings, not like courts trying to confuse the public.
When National Assembly repeals a law, it DIES.
Not metaphorically — legally and absolutely.
You cannot try a man under a dead law.
This is not activism. It is not sentiment. It is not “technicality.”
It is the law.
And Nigerian courts have said it over and over again. Courts higher than Omotosho’s High Court (Appeal Court and Supreme Court) have said so repeatedly.
1. A repealed law cannot sustain a trial — period.
In the landmark case A.G. Lagos State v. Dosunmu, the Supreme Court, yes! the Supreme Court, the highest court in the land, held that once a law is repealed, it “ceases to exist for all future purposes.”
Meaning:
you cannot charge under it,
you cannot try under it,
you cannot convict under it.
The exceptions? Only what National Assembly expressly preserves.
Nothing more.
2. A savings clause does not resurrect a dead law.
In Uwaifo v. A.G. Bendel State, the Supreme Court warned that courts cannot use a savings clause to “perpetuate” a repealed statute.
This is exactly what Justice Omotosho did.
And it is exactly what the law forbids.
3. The leading Commonwealth authority agrees.
In Ho Po Sang (1961), the Privy Council — whose decisions Nigeria follows — explained the purpose of a savings clause simply:
“It preserves past acts, not the repealed law itself.”
There is nowhere in the world where a savings clause magically resurrects a dead Act so a judge can continue using it like a voodoo instrument.
Except — apparently — in Justice Omotosho’s courtroom.
SECTION 97 AND 98: THE REAL TRUTH THE PUBLIC MUST KNOW
Justice Omotosho built his entire judicial house of cards on one subsection: Section 98(3) of the Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022.
But he conveniently ignored Section 97 — the very section immediately before it — which commands:
“Any… trial… SHALL be continued and completed under this Act.”
The trial in Kanu’s case restarted in March 2025.
By law, it MUST proceed under the 2022 Act.
No exceptions.
No judicial acrobatics.
Section 98(3) only preserves past actions (arrests, searches, charges).
It does NOT preserve the old law.
It does NOT authorize a 2025 conviction under a 2013 law.
It does NOT override Section 97.
Nothing in it allows a judge to resurrect a statutory corpse.
Every legal authority agrees.
Only Omotosho disagrees.
WHY THE JUDICIARY GETS AWAY WITH THIS NONSENSE
Because Nigerian judges have discovered the perfect shield:
Intimidate the public with complex language until they stop asking questions.
But Nnamdi Kanu’s case has backfired spectacularly.
For the first time in decades, Nigerians are learning:
what a savings clause is,
what repeal means,
what constitutional legality requires,
why a “written law IN FORCE” is compulsory,
why a dead law cannot sustain a conviction,
why the courts cannot manufacture jurisdiction.
The courts have forced Nigerians to become lawyers — for survival.
This era of judicial mystification is dying.
And it is dying because Omotosho overplayed his hand.
THE REAL FEAR HAUNTING THE JUDICIARY
Judges like Omotosho knows that if the public truly understands the law,
their impunity collapses overnight.
Kanu’s case is the breaking point.
It has made visible what used to be hidden.
It has forced ordinary Nigerians to open the statutes themselves.
And when the people read the law directly, without judicial distortion, the entire edifice of manipulation crumbles.
THE COURT OF APPEAL CANNOT SUSTAIN THIS TRAVESTY
If the Court of Appeal endorses Omotosho’s reasoning, it will:
overthrow every repeal rule in Nigerian jurisprudence,
contradict the Constitution,
contradict Supreme Court precedent,
contradict the National Assembly’s express command in Section 97,
and drag Nigeria into global ridicule.
It is legally impossible to sustain the judgment without committing intellectual dishonesty on a national scale.
The court would have to say:
a dead law is alive,
Section 97 means nothing,
savings clauses resurrect repealed Acts,
and a judge can choose which sections of a statute to obey.
No serious court can do that.
Not without burning down the rule of law.
CONCLUSION: THE ERA OF JUDICIAL DARKNESS IS ENDING
Kanu’s case is not just a legal battle.
It is a national awakening.
Nigerians are finally reading the law.
They are finally questioning judicial mythology.
They are finally seeing that the robe does not always mean wisdom.
Justice Omotosho has unwittingly created a new Nigeria —
one where citizens will no longer swallow legal gibberish without asking:
“Show me the law.”
And that question, once asked,
changes everything.
Njoku Jude Njoku, Esq.
Member, Nnamdi Kanu Global Defence Consortium