By Kazeem Ugbodaga
When a federal court in Abuja convicted Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) leader Nnamdi Kanu on seven terrorism-related charges and sentenced him to life imprisonment, the verdict immediately reignited longstanding debates about secessionism, accountability and national stability in Nigeria. The facts driving the conviction are stark: judges and prosecutors concluded that Kanu’s words and actions amount to more than political protest, they found evidence of incitement and coordination of violent acts that targeted security personnel and civilians. Prosecutors even sought the death penalty before the judge opted for life imprisonment.
Against that background, former presidential candidate Peter Obi’s prompt public reaction-that “Mazi Kanu should never have been arrested” and that his detention and conviction represent a failure of leadership, deserves close scrutiny. Obi framed his concerns around the need for dialogue, inclusive governance and caution about actions that might inflame tensions. Those are legitimate democratic values. But the problem is not merely rhetorical: Obi’s insistence that Kanu “should never have been arrested” places him at odds with a court record that, in multiple recent reports, finds Kanu responsible for directing and encouraging violence, enforcing paralysing shutdowns and even offering technical guidance for attacks. In short, the question is whether Obi’s stance sufficiently weighs the documented harm Kanu’s movement inflicted.
Why that matters is not abstract. The court’s judgment was not simply about political expression. Reporting on the trial emphasised acts that the judiciary classified as terrorism: incitement to attack security officers, orchestrating unlawful shutdowns that led to deaths and serious disruption, and other offences framed as violent and illegal. Judges and prosecutors presented a narrative in which rhetoric crossed into operational direction. For citizens struggling under the gun-and-ransom economy of banditry and communal violence, lines between inflammatory speech and actionable threat are consequential; the state’s duty to protect can compel intervention when speech moves toward organized violence.
Obi’s broader point, that resorting to force should be a last option and that dialogue is preferable, is uncontroversial in principle. But the timing and absolutism of his language, declaring the arrest itself illegitimate even as a court considered detailed evidence, invites two uncomfortable readings. The charitable one: Obi is reaffirming a long-held civil liberties posture and warning against excessive use of state power. The less charitable (and politically salient) interpretation: by embracing a figure the courts deem a convicted terrorist, he risks appearing to excuse or minimise the tangible security harms suffered by victims and the rule of law that must adjudicate such harms. Several commentators have seized upon that tension, arguing that political leaders must balance civil rights advocacy with respect for judicial findings and victims’ safety.
There is also a practical political calculation embedded in Obi’s response. Nigeria’s politics is faulted by ethnic and regional fault lines; public statements on polarising figures carry outsized symbolic weight. By insisting Kanu “should never have been arrested,” Obi inadvertently aligns himself with a constituency that sees Kanu as a martyr and delegitimises the state action used to counter him, regardless of whether Obi intends to. For critics, that alignment looks like favouring a partisan narrative over an objective assessment of security threats, which can be read as hypocrisy if the same leader otherwise endorses strong measures against other forms of violence or discrimination. (Whether Obi actually holds such inconsistent stances on other issues is a subject for separate scrutiny; the point here is the political optics.)
A second concern is the burden of evidence. Public figures who question court outcomes do so more persuasively when their critique is anchored in legal specifics, procedural irregularities, credible claims of coercion or denial of fair process. Obi’s statement, as reported, emphasised the need for dialogue and warned about the risk of deepening tensions, but it did not, in the public record, point to precise legal errors in the trial that would justify declaring the arrest itself a categorical wrong. Absent such specifics, the critique reads more like a political defence than a legal challenge. Given the gravity of the charges and the international attention the case attracted, responsible critique should be granular and demonstrable.
Finally, leaders must be mindful of victims and the social fallout. The court record and reporting stress that IPOB-related actions had real victims-dead and displaced, economic losses and heightened insecurity. A statement that appears to prioritise the rights of a leader over the lived suffering of those victims will inevitably be framed as tone-deaf or hypocritical. Obi’s humane commitment to dialogue gains credibility when paired with explicit acknowledgement of victims’ pain and with calls for restorative measures, not only release or absolution. Several analysts argue that a more balanced response would have coupled calls for fair process with unambiguous sympathy for victims and a clear roadmap for reconciliation.
This case presents a dilemma for opposition figures across democracies: how to defend civil liberties without appearing to condone violence; how to criticise state power without undermining institutions tasked with protecting citizens. Peter Obi’s statement reflects one side of that dilemma. But given the evidentiary conclusions reported by multiple news outlets, that the court found Kanu culpable for incitement and related acts, Obi’s categorical rejection of the initial arrest looks, at best, incomplete and, at worst, politically risky. A more persuasive posture would demand transparency and legal scrutiny while simultaneously recognising the real harms that triggered state action.
As Nigeria continues to wrestle with insecurity, secessionist agitation and fragile trust in institutions, public leaders who wish to shape constructive debate must show the intellectual discipline to marry legal argument, moral clarity and empathy. Anything less risks being read fairly or unfairly as hypocrisy.