Nigeria’s Online Courtroom: Justice or Chaos?
By Precious Pogoson
University of Jos
Imagine a Lagos morning, your phone buzzing as you carry on with your morning routine and a TikTok video surfaces: a young woman accusing a businessman of fraud. By noon, #ExposeHim trends on X, with threads dissecting his past and Instagram stories amplifying the claim. By evening, his reputation is ruined, judged by millions online without a courtroom, evidence, or judge. This is Nigeria’s online courtroom, where verdicts come fast, raw, and often unfair.
In a country with over 200 million people, 90 million are online, on platforms like X, Instagram, Snapchat, WhatsApp and TikTok, these spaces have become a place for accountability and chaos.A single posts that can spark movements, tweets deliver judgments, and raise the stakes high.
As this online courtroom grows, the question in most Nigerian hearts are; Has social media overtaken Nigeria’s legal system? What does this mean for fairness, the rule of law, and the future of justice?etc.
Now, over 70% of the country's population being youths and young persons are mostly online tweeting, chattings sending snaps etc. These platforms transform citizens into reporters, activists, and judges.
Let's go back to the case in 2021, the death of Sylvester Oromoni, a 12-year-old student at Dowen College in Lagos, linked to alleged bullying, ignited national outrage. The hashtag #JusticeForSylvester trended for weeks on X and Instagram, gaining millions of views. Public pressure forced the Lagos State Government to shut the school and launch investigations. Without this online outcry, the case might have been buried in bureaucratic silence.
Also, In Northern Nigeria, a 2024 case also reflected this pattern. A Kano-based teacher, Aisha Musa, posted an X thread exposing alleged abuse at a local secondary school. Her posts, viewed over 500,000 times, prompted the Kano State Ministry of Education to suspend three staff members and initiate a probe. Yet, like Oromoni’s case, legal outcomes are still pending, highlighting social media’s power to spark action but its limits in securing justice.
The 2020 #EndSARS movement redefined digital activism. A single tweet about police extortion in Lagos snowballed into a global campaign. Nigerians, from Port Harcourt to London, used Instagram live streams and TikTok videos to document police brutality, crowdfund victims, and organize protests. The result was the disbandment of the Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) and the formation of judicial panels across states. However, as X user @NaijaActivist noted in an October 2020 thread, “Social media gave us a platform, but the system is slow panels formed, convictions rare.”
A 2024 study found only 5% of #EndSARS cases led to prosecutions, underscoring the gap between online pressure and courtroom results. Social media amplifies voices but struggles to deliver lasting change.
A Single Post That Can Inflict A lasting Pain
The power of Social media has a dark side. Platforms that spread truth can also spread lies. In Nigeria, where misinformation travels faster than facts, a single post can destroy lives by the end of the day. These “trials by hashtag” often outpace due process, thereby judging people before courts can act.
Defamation laws are created and aimed to curb this chaos, and under Sections 373-375 of the Criminal Code Act which provides that false statements harming reputations can lead to fines or two years in prison . In 2020, Nicholas Okoye v Ladun Laidi & Ors held a blogger liable for unmoderated defamatory comments on his site.
These cases show that online words carry legal weight.
High-profile examples illustrate the stakes. In February 2025, Abia State Governor Alex Otti sued Tobias Chukwudi Egeonu for a December 2024 Facebook post alleging corruption tied to Otti’s tenure at Diamond Bank. The post went viral, splitting X users #OttiCorrupt clashed with #DefendOtti. The FCT High Court admitted the post as evidence, adjourning to December 8, 2025, after Egeonu’s apology, citing a 2015 political grudge. Public opinion outran the courts, showing how social media can shape narratives before legal processes unfold.
In April 2024, the Manufacturers Association of Nigeria warned that false online videos accusing companies of “unsafe products” devastate brands. A Lagos baker lost 60% of her sales in 2024 after a TikTok video wrongly claimed her cakes caused illness. She was cleared months later, but her business struggled to recover.
Also, In January 2025, X user @LagosTrader_ posted, “Lost my shop cos of a lie on TikTok. Cleared my name, but who’s buying now?” a viral plea that captured the human cost of online trials.
A 2023 Edo study noted that such media trials erode public trust in justice, convicting individuals before courts convene.
Law Struggling to Catch Up
Nigeria’s legal system is battling with this online chaos. Defamation laws protect reputations but risk reduces the level of free speech. The Cybercrimes Act 2015, under Section 24, criminalizes false or harmful messages, but its vague terms have led to misuse. In March 2025, blogger Chidi Okere was detained in Abuja for posts criticizing a senator, sparking debates about the Act’s overreach.
Sub judice rules prohibits comments on active cases to preserve judicial fairness, yet legal scholar Olumide Babalola warned in 2024 that lawyers’ social media posts can undermine court integrity. Section 39 of the 1999 Constitution guarantees free expression, but limits apply for defamation and incitement. Courts increasingly admit online posts as evidence, as in Otti’s case, but the Evidence Act restricts their use as character evidence to shield trials from public bias. A 2025 SSRN paper argues that colonial-era defamation laws are ill-suited for the digital age, urging a modern framework.
The Otti’s case highlights the tension. His 2024 lawsuit over a defamatory Facebook post divided X users. The FCT High Court’s use of the post, served via WhatsApp, marked a legal milestone.20 In contrast, #EndSARS showed social media’s power to expose abuses but its failure to secure convictions, with only 5% of cases prosecuted by 2024.21 These examples reveal social media’s dual role as a tool for justice and a source of harm.
The Essence
This online shift undermines Nigeria’s justice system. When hashtags deliver verdicts faster than judges, trust in courts gradually fades away
The principle of innocence until proven guilty is weakened under online judgments, as seen in Eniola Badmus’s 2023 cyberstalking case, where TikTok posts led to convictions. Free speech clashes with protecting reputations, evident in 2025’s blogger arrests. Platforms amplify victims’ voices but can ruin the innocent, like the Lagos baker. Courts use online evidence, but legal frameworks lag, according to Omaplex Law Firm’s 2024 report.
“This imbalance threatens fairness and the rule of law”
Ways to Build A Better Online Justice Presence
Real People, Real Losses
The human toll is significant. Cases like Chioma, a Lagos teacher, posted a 2024 X thread about workplace harassment, prompting investigations but also a defamation lawsuit from her employer. Tunde, an Abuja vendor, lost his business after a false TikTok claim of selling fake electronics. Cleared later, he struggled to regain customers etc.
These cases reveal a hard truth: in the online courtroom, justice often loses to speed.
Justice Needs More Than Hashtags
Social media Platforms is Nigeria’s unofficial courtroom open, active, and risky. It exposes corruption and empowers the silenced, but it can wrongly judge people in a rush of likes and retweets. The legal system must adapt, not by silencing voices but by ensuring online justice respects due process. Justice relies on evidence, not popularity. Nigeria faces a choice: let social media’s noise overtake courts, risking justice for trends, or channel its energy with better laws and education to build a fair, trusted system. Law and likes must serve one goal: justice that endures
With that being said be careful what you post online words hurt and can make a change. .
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