Nnamdi Kanu, leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) and a symbol of southeastern Nigeria's separatist aspirations, has appealed his terrorism conviction, reigniting debates about selective justice and the unresolved tensions that continue to shape Nigerian federalism.
Kanu's continued detention, even after a Court of Appeal ruled in 2022 that his extraordinary rendition from Kenya violated international law, stands in stark contrast to the freedom enjoyed by other Nigerian separatist or militant leaders. Sunday Igboho, who advocates for Yoruba self-determination, walks free. Sheikh Ahmad Gumi, who has engaged with armed bandits in the north, faces no charges. Asari Dokubo, a former Niger Delta militant, operates openly.
This disparity fuels perceptions among southeastern Nigerians, predominantly Igbo, that federal authorities apply justice selectively along ethnic lines. Kanu's supporters argue his only crime was demanding good governance and highlighting marginalization of the southeast—not terrorism.
The Biafran question never died. It merely evolved from the 1967-70 civil war that killed over one million people into contemporary grievances about infrastructure neglect, political marginalization, and economic disadvantage. IPOB emerged as the latest manifestation of these long-standing tensions, using social media and diaspora networks to advocate for southeastern autonomy or outright secession.
Kanu's case tests fundamental questions about Nigeria's federal structure. In a nation of over 200 million people spanning more than 250 ethnic groups, three major religions, and six geopolitical zones, managing separatist sentiments requires delicate balancing. Heavy-handed suppression of one group while tolerating similar behavior by others undermines the legitimacy of the federal system.
The Nigerian government proscribed IPOB as a terrorist organization in 2017, following clashes between security forces and IPOB members. Kanu fled Nigeria that year, continuing his broadcasts from abroad until his controversial arrest and rendition in 2021. His extraordinary rendition—effectively a kidnapping that violated Kenya's sovereignty and international law—raised serious legal and diplomatic concerns.
Yet despite court rulings questioning the legality of his detention, Kanu remains imprisoned. His legal team argues the terrorism charges are politically motivated, designed to silence dissent rather than address genuine security threats. The prosecution maintains that Kanu's broadcasts incited violence and threatened national security.
In Nigeria, as across Africa's giants, challenges are real but entrepreneurial energy and cultural creativity drive progress. Yet unresolved ethnic tensions and perceived injustices continue to hinder national cohesion. The Biafran question, like similar separatist movements globally, reflects deeper failures of governance, inclusion, and equitable development.
Analysts note that sustainable resolution requires addressing root causes—the marginalization, infrastructure deficits, and political exclusion that fuel separatist sentiment—rather than simply imprisoning separatist leaders. President Bola Tinubu, a Yoruba southwesterner, faces pressure to demonstrate even-handed treatment of separatist movements regardless of regional origin.
The southeastern region, despite producing much of Nigeria's oil wealth and boasting significant entrepreneurial capacity, lacks the federal infrastructure investment seen in other zones. Major highways remain decrepit, the second Niger bridge took decades to complete, and federal appointments often overlook southeastern candidates.
Kanu's appeal will likely extend through Nigerian courts for months or years. Meanwhile, his detention continues to radicalize some southeastern youths while creating a martyr figure around which grievances coalesce. Whether Nigeria's federal system can accommodate diverse aspirations while maintaining national unity remains an open question—one that Kanu's case brings into sharp focus.
