June 12 is more than a symbolic date in Nigeria’s political calendar; it is a historical anchor and a lens through which we measure the health of our democracy. It commemorates the now legendary June 12, 1993, presidential election widely considered the freest and fairest in the country’s history that was annulled by the military regime. This singular act plunged the nation into turmoil and set the stage for democratic resistance. Today, June 12 is Democracy Day, a day to reflect not only on how far we have come but, more importantly, how far we have yet to go.
Since the return to civilian rule in 1999, Nigeria has conducted seven general elections, one that has experienced relatively peaceful transfers of power at the federal level, while upholding a constitutional structure. However, these surface achievements mask deeper problems. As law students and legal thinkers, we must interrogate Nigeria’s democratic experience with clarity and courage, are we truly living under a democratic system, or are we merely performing democracy while the real decisions happen behind closed doors?
The Nigerian Constitution 1999 (as amended) places sovereignty squarely in the hands of the people. Section 14(2)(a) declares: “Sovereignty belongs to the people of Nigeria from whom government through this Constitution derives all its powers and authority.” Yet, in practice, this ideal is far from realized.
The 2023 general elections saw the lowest turnout (~27%) and were widely criticized by joint NDI/IRI reports cited significant logistical and technological failures by INEC, including BVAS breakdowns and violence in key states like Lagos, Rivers, and Kogi. Subsequent off‑cycle elections and tribunals further exposed systemic flaws for instance, the Supreme Court nullified the October 2024 Rivers LG polls in March 2025, ruling they contravened the Electoral Act 2022, underscoring a fragile electoral-judicial ecosystem.
The rule of law, a cornerstone of any true democracy, remains under siege. Nigeria continues to see executive disregard for judicial orders, selective enforcement of laws, and prolonged detentions without trial. Press freedom has been severely tested. On May 1, 2024, investigative journalist Daniel Ojukwu was detained under the Cybercrimes Act for over a week and was never charged or brought to court, garnering condemnation from CPJ, Human Rights Watch, Reuters, and AP. In the same breath, December 2023 saw journalists like Godwin Tsa and Precious Eze arrested or assaulted in connection with protest coverage and reporting.
What’s even more troubling is the erosion of judicial independence. The legal profession has also responded. NBA President Afam Osigwe, in his December 2024 address, emphasized ongoing efforts toward judicial independence. In February 2025, the NBA and NJC together declared the Benue State Assembly’s attempt to remove a Chief Judge unconstitutional, a firm stand for separation of powers.
Further complicating Nigeria’s democratic evolution is the weaponization of state institutions. Agencies such as the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and Department of State Services (DSS) have been accused rightly or wrongly of being used for political vendettas or revenge.
Another critical issue undermining Nigeria’s democratic evolution lies in legal pluralism and the resulting sharp disconnect between law and order. A horrifying illustration occurred on March 28, 2025, when local vigilantes in Edo State joined a mob that lynched 16 northern Nigerians in Uromi, publicly asserting their innocence amid official investigations and arrests. Similarly, communal violence continues to plague Plateau State: between December 2023 and February 2024, over 865 people, 160 of children were killed in farmer-herder clashes in Mangu LGA alone.
Press freedom and civil society space have come under increasing threat. In 2022–2023, NBC fined Channels TV, Trust TV, Multichoice/NTA‑Startimes, and Telcom Satellite ₦5 million each for airing content critical of government actions ranging from documentaries on terrorism to interviews with opposition figures.
In a landmark decision in March 2024, the Federal High Court in Lagos ruled that NBC’s sanctions were unconstitutional and must cease, upholding the constitutional right to free expression under Section 36 of the Nigeria Constitution. Although, despite the victory, media watchers warn that self-censorship persists, as lawmakers and regulators continue to scrutinize newsrooms, narrowing democratic civic space under the guise of regulation.
As legal scholars and students, our responsibility is not just to analyze these developments, but to speak truth to power. The law must not be used as a shield for injustice or as a tool to intimidate the weak. Legal education must evolve beyond theory into critical engagement with current realities. The Nigerian Bar Association, law faculties, and law clinics across the country must begin to champion civic education, legal aid, and open dialogue about the erosion of democratic standards.
In all of this, one question looms large: has Nigeria truly honored the promise of June 12?
While democratic structures exist, the spirit of democracy, which includes fairness, justice, accountability, and participation remains elusive. Our leaders must understand that legitimacy cannot be manufactured through flawed elections or judicial gymnastics. It must be earned through transparent governance, respect for fundamental rights, and adherence to constitutional values.
In conclusion, democracy in Nigeria is at a critical junction. The gains of the past 25 years risk being reversed unless bold reforms are initiated. June 12 must not become another date marked by ceremonial speeches and newspaper editorials. It should instead serve as a powerful reminder that democracy must work for the people, not just for the powerful.
