By Abidemi Adebamiwa, Policy Analyst & Managing Editor, Newspot Nigeria
INTRODUCTION
Legal reasoning is not the exclusive domain of lawyers—it is the foundation of justice itself.
On my very first day at the Northwestern University Pritzker School of Law, I was introduced to the IRAC method—a structured approach that dissects every legal problem into four essential parts: Issue, Rule, Application, and Conclusion.
I am not a lawyer, but as a policy analyst trained in law and governance, I have used this method for years to explain the intersection of policy, justice, and institutional accountability. In Nigeria’s ongoing trial of Nnamdi Kanu, this framework offers a clear lens through which citizens can separate political rhetoric from legal reality.
I. ISSUE
At the core of the Nnamdi Kanu saga lies one profound constitutional question:
Can the Nigerian state lawfully prosecute a citizen after violating international law to bring him into its custody?
Kanu, the leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), was seized in Kenya in 2021 and forcibly returned to Nigeria to face terrorism and treasonable-felony charges. His defence team insists that this “extraordinary rendition” nullifies the entire proceeding, while the Federal Government maintains that his alleged crimes are too serious to be dismissed on procedural grounds.
This dispute—between due process and national security—has become a referendum on the strength and fairness of Nigeria’s justice system.
II. RULE
Two courts, interpreting the same Constitution, have reached opposite conclusions.
In October 2022, the Court of Appeal in Abuja ruled that Kanu’s rendition violated international law and deprived the Federal High Court of jurisdiction. The court held that “no government can benefit from its own wrong,” and struck out all fifteen terrorism counts.
But in December 2023, the Supreme Court of Nigeria overturned that decision. Relying on the doctrine of male captus, bene detentus—Latin for “wrongly captured, properly detained”—the apex court ruled that an irregular arrest does not nullify a valid prosecution.
Justice Emmanuel Agim, delivering the lead judgment, stated that:
“While the extraordinary rendition may constitute a violation of international law, that breach does not absolve the respondent of answering to serious criminal allegations under Nigerian law.”
III. APPLICATION
Each judgment reflects a competing judicial philosophy.
The Court of Appeal elevated procedure over power, asserting that justice must be rooted in legality, not convenience. Its message was simple: a state cannot violate the very laws it swore to uphold.
The Supreme Court, however, adopted a more pragmatic approach—arguing that public safety and national interest justify proceeding with prosecution, even where procedural missteps exist. Once the accused stands before a competent court, it reasoned, jurisdiction is established.
Yet, this reasoning invites uncomfortable questions. If the state can violate international norms to achieve an arrest, what prevents it from doing so again under different political circumstances? If process becomes negotiable, what remains of the rule of law?
Today, the Federal Government has closed its case, and the court has ruled that Kanu must open his defence. But beyond the courtroom, the nation is being tested on whether it values justice achieved lawfully over justice achieved at any cost.
IV. CONCLUSION
The Supreme Court’s ruling ensures that the trial continues, but it does not resolve Nigeria’s deeper constitutional dilemma: how to balance legality with authority in the pursuit of justice.
The IRAC framework, which I first encountered at Northwestern Law, continues to shape how I parse such questions—not as a lawyer, but as a policy analyst who believes law must serve legitimacy, not merely victory.
The Kanu case is more than a trial; it is a test of Nigeria’s democratic conscience. True justice demands not only that the law be enforced but that it be enforced lawfully, transparently, and consistently.
As this trial moves forward, one truth must endure:
A democracy cannot claim moral authority if it breaks the law to enforce it.
