The End of Impunity: Accountability and the Rule of Law in Nigeria

Ogunsakin Mustapha
11 Min Read
Dr Abejide Olusegun

Dr. Abejide B. Olusegun

“When you are dead, you do not know that you are dead. It’s only painful and difficult for others. The same applies when you are stupid.”

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The current friction between the administration of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and several high-profile northern leaders represents a defining moment for Nigeria’s democratic trajectory. At the center of this tension stands Mallam Nasir El-Rufai, former Governor of Kaduna State, whose recent public remarks have ignited intense national debate. A widely circulated video captures El-Rufai issuing what many interpret as a grave ultimatum, warning that anyone seeking to criminalize him must be prepared for a confrontation that ends only when one party drops dead. His invocation of the late President Umaru Musa Yar’Aduah was particularly striking, not merely as historical reference but as a reminder of Nigeria’s complex political past and the unfinished business of accountability.

Such rhetoric cuts deeply into the fabric of a democratic society. Nigeria is not a battlefield where political disagreements are settled through threats of existential combat. It is a constitutional republic governed by law. When a former governor speaks in terms that appear to challenge the very authority of the state, the implications extend beyond personal grievance. It raises urgent questions about institutional strength, political culture, and the boundaries of lawful expression in a fragile but evolving democracy.

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The perception that such statements can be made without immediate consequence fuels a long-standing concern among Nigerians: the culture of impunity. For decades, political office has often been perceived not merely as public service but as protective armor. Those who ascend to high office frequently emerge shielded from scrutiny, while citizens who lack influence face the full weight of state power for far lesser infractions. This imbalance erodes trust in governance and weakens the social contract between the state and its people.

The irony in the present controversy lies in El-Rufai’s own record while serving as Governor of Kaduna State. His tenure was widely characterized by a firm, sometimes uncompromising approach to dissent. Journalists and critics such as Midat Joseph, Sunny Yayock, and Audu Maikori experienced detention under his administration over social media comments or private communications deemed unfavorable. Steven Kefas spent 150 days in custody, while Segun Oniboyo endured 24 days of detention for raising questions about asset declarations. Other individuals, including Dr. John Dan Fulani, Nasiru Jagaban, and Adamu Abdullahi, found themselves navigating a political environment that many described as intolerant of criticism.

For many observers, the contrast between past enforcement of authority and current claims of persecution underscores a broader Nigerian dilemma: the selective application of power. When the state is used as an instrument against critics but invoked as a shield when scrutiny turns inward, citizens perceive inconsistency. The rule of law cannot survive on selective enforcement. It demands uniformity, restraint, and procedural fairness, regardless of status.

This broader conversation now extends to several influential figures whose roles in Nigeria’s political evolution continue to provoke debate. Former Attorney General Abubakar Malami faces prosecution by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission over allegations of large-scale financial misconduct. Senator Rabiu Kwankwaso remains a polarizing figure amid ongoing scrutiny of past political decisions. Vice President Kashim Shettima’s earlier tenure in Borno State continues to draw attention in light of Nigeria’s prolonged security challenges. Senator Aminu Tambuwal’s detention over alleged financial breaches adds to the perception that Nigeria is entering an era where former power brokers may finally be subject to judicial review. Sheikh Abubakar Gumi’s public commentary on security matters has also attracted scrutiny, while political veterans such as Buba Galadima are viewed through the lens of long-term influence on Nigeria’s political realignments.

These developments are not isolated. They reflect a structural tension within Nigeria’s democratic experiment. Since the return to civilian rule in 1999, successive administrations have pledged to combat corruption and strengthen institutions. Yet enforcement has often been uneven, entangled in political rivalries and factional interests. The true test of reform is not the rhetoric of anti-corruption but its impartial application.

The legal foundation for such accountability exists within Nigeria’s statutory framework, particularly through the Administration of Criminal Justice Act (ACJA) 2015. Before its enactment, high-profile trials were notorious for endless adjournments, interlocutory appeals, and procedural technicalities that stretched cases over decades. The public watched as charges faded into irrelevance while defendants resumed influential roles. Justice delayed became justice denied, not only for victims but for the nation’s moral authority.

Section 306 of the ACJA marked a turning point by abolishing the stay of proceedings in criminal trials. Previously, defendants could freeze cases by filing appeals on preliminary matters, effectively suspending substantive hearings for years. The new provision ensures that trials continue despite such appeals, closing a major loophole. Section 396 mandates day-to-day trials once proceedings commence and restricts adjournments, limiting opportunities for deliberate delay. Section 15(4) allows electronic recording of confessions, reducing disputes that previously triggered time-consuming “trials within trials.” Section 396(7) permits judges elevated to higher courts to return and conclude part-heard criminal cases, preventing the collapse of proceedings due to judicial transfers.

These provisions are not merely technical adjustments. They represent structural safeguards designed to restore credibility to the judicial process. The Supreme Court’s rulings in cases involving former governors Joshua Dariye and Jolly Nyame demonstrated that convictions of powerful individuals are possible within Nigeria’s legal system. Those judgments signaled that immunity under Section 308 of the Constitution is temporary and does not erase eventual accountability.

Yet legislation alone cannot transform political culture. Enforcement requires institutional courage. Security agencies, prosecutors, and judges must operate free from intimidation and partisan manipulation. The independence of the judiciary is not an abstract principle; it is the backbone of constitutional democracy. When courts function effectively, they provide peaceful channels for resolving disputes. When they falter, grievances spill into the streets or into the rhetoric of confrontation.

President Tinubu’s administration now stands at a crossroads. His reform agenda, which includes economic restructuring, subsidy removal, and fiscal realignment, depends heavily on political stability. Yet stability cannot be sustained through accommodation of impunity. If accountability is pursued selectively, it risks being dismissed as political retaliation. If it is avoided entirely, public cynicism deepens. The balance requires transparent adherence to due process.

The stakes extend beyond individual reputations. Nigeria’s 2031 electoral cycle looms in the distance, and the credibility of future elections depends on the strength of institutions today. A political system perceived as protective of elites but punitive toward ordinary citizens cannot command long-term legitimacy. The rule of law must be demonstrably impartial.

Public trust is fragile. Nigerians have endured economic hardship, security challenges, and social polarization. Many feel that political elites operate within insulated circles detached from the realities of everyday life. Restoring faith requires visible evidence that no individual is beyond scrutiny. Accountability does not imply guilt; it implies investigation conducted within the boundaries of law.

The friction surrounding El-Rufai and other high-profile figures should therefore be understood not merely as personal disputes but as a test of institutional maturity. Democracies mature when they demonstrate that power rotates but the law remains constant. Threats, insinuations, and rhetorical escalation cannot substitute for legal defense within established courts.

Nigeria’s democratic journey has survived military rule, annulled elections, insurgency, and economic turbulence. Each phase has exposed weaknesses but also resilience. The present moment offers an opportunity to reinforce that resilience by affirming that authority is derived from law, not personality.

The era of political untouchables must give way to a culture of legal responsibility. This does not require spectacle. It requires consistency. It requires that investigations follow evidence, that prosecutions follow procedure, and that judgments follow law. It requires that citizens witness a justice system capable of acting without fear or favor.

If the ACJA is enforced as designed, it can prevent the endless legal maneuvers that once shielded powerful defendants. If constitutional safeguards are respected, no sitting official can claim permanent immunity. If security agencies operate professionally, threats against the state will be addressed within legal parameters rather than political bargaining.

Ultimately, Nigeria’s future stability depends less on individual personalities and more on institutional credibility. The rhetoric of confrontation may generate headlines, but it cannot substitute for legal clarity. The rule of law is not a slogan; it is the framework that determines whether a nation advances or fractures.

The choice before Nigeria is stark but clear. Either the country consolidates a system where accountability applies universally, or it perpetuates cycles of selective justice that erode democratic foundations. The End of Impunity is not merely a title. It is a necessary aspiration. Only when the law stands above influence can Nigeria secure both democratic integrity and lasting national cohesion.

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