In Nigeria, the slow pace of justice is often explained away as a structural problem, too many cases, too few judges, inadequate funding. These explanations are not wrong, but they are incomplete. The more uncomfortable truth is that delay in Nigeria’s justice system has, in many instances, become functional if not outright profitable. It operates less like a failure and more like an embedded feature of the system. Time, instead of being minimized, is traded, stretched, and sometimes weaponized.
This reality is not theoretical. It is visible in widely reported cases. The prolonged prosecution of former national security adviser Sambo Dasuki, despite multiple court orders granting him bail, became emblematic of systemic delay and disregard for judicial timelines. Similarly, the corruption trial of former Senate President Bukola Saraki at the Code of Conduct Tribunal stretched over years before eventual acquittal, with repeated adjournments and procedural disputes dominating proceedings rather than substantive resolution. These cases, reported extensively by outlets such as Premium Times and The Punch, illustrate how delay becomes normalized even at the highest levels.
The problem begins long before the courtroom. Police investigations in Nigeria frequently stall due to poor evidence gathering, lack of forensic capacity, and inadequate witness protection. Reports by Human Rights Watch and coverage in Vanguard Newspaper have repeatedly documented cases where suspects are detained for extended periods without properly compiled case files. When such cases eventually reach prosecutors, they are often incomplete, leading to predictable adjournments.
Prosecutors, in turn, frequently request delays due to missing witnesses, incomplete disclosures, or administrative inefficiencies. Courts, already overwhelmed, grant adjournments as a matter of routine rather than exception. The result is a cascading system where each stage feeds a delay into the next.
Nowhere is the human cost more visible than in Nigeria’s correctional (prisons /detention centres) facilities. According to reports from the Nigerian Correctional Service, a significant proportion, often over 65 percent of inmates, are awaiting trial rather than serving sentences. This has been repeatedly highlighted in reporting by The Guardian Nigeria. Individuals presumed innocent spend years in detention due to slow bail processes, missing case files, or repeated adjournments. In some instances, detainees have remained in custody longer than the maximum sentence for the alleged offence.
The societal consequences are profound. Victims relive trauma as cases drag on indefinitely. Accused persons lose livelihoods, reputations, and family stability. Witnesses disappear, memories fade, and evidence deteriorates. Over time, the public begins to question whether truth and accountability are genuinely achievable within the system.
Yet, delays do more than harm; they create incentives. In parts of Nigeria’s legal ecosystem, adjournments can translate into additional legal fees. More troublingly, delay can be used strategically. High-profile corruption cases often lose momentum over time, as public attention wanes and political contexts shift. Observers have noted, including in analyses published by Transparency International, that prolonged trials can weaken accountability by exhausting both the prosecution and public interest.
The case of former governor Orji Uzor Kalu is instructive. His trial for alleged financial crimes lasted over a decade before conviction, only for the Supreme Court to later nullify the judgment on procedural grounds, effectively resetting the process. Such outcomes reinforce a perception that delay is not merely incidental; it can be protective.
Reform in Nigeria must therefore go beyond increasing the number of judges or building more courts. It must confront incentives. A justice system should be designed so that cases move forward by default, and delays require strict justification.
Some reforms are already underway. The introduction of the Administration of Criminal Justice Act 2015 was a significant step toward limiting adjournments and improving case management. However, implementation remains inconsistent across states. Digital initiatives, including e filing systems in jurisdictions like Lagos, show promise but have yet to achieve nationwide impact.
Digitization, if properly implemented, could address some of the most persistent bottlenecks. Electronic filing would reduce the chronic problem of missing case files. Digital scheduling could minimize the endemic issue of lawyers being double-booked across multiple courts. Case tracking systems could introduce transparency, allowing the public and oversight bodies to see where and why delays occur. Importantly, transparency would make it harder to hide inefficiency behind vague institutional explanations.
Access to legal representation is another critical factor. Many Nigerians cannot afford lawyers, leading to poorly prepared cases and frequent adjournments. Strengthening institutions such as the Legal Aid Council of Nigeria is not merely a social intervention; it is a system efficiency strategy. Early legal advice can prevent minor disputes from escalating into prolonged litigation.
Alternative dispute resolution also offers underutilized potential. Lagos Multi-Door Courthouse, frequently highlighted in Nigerian legal commentary and reporting by ThisDay Newspaper, demonstrates how mediation and arbitration can reduce court congestion while preserving fairness. However, ADR must be carefully implemented to avoid becoming a tool for coercion or unequal settlements.
Equally important is the establishment of clear, publicly reported performance metrics. Time to trial, case clearance rates, and remand population levels should be routinely published and scrutinized. Without measurable targets, reform remains rhetorical.
Ultimately, accountability is the missing link. Police must be held to standards of timely and competent investigation. Prosecutors must meet disclosure and readiness benchmarks. Courts must enforce stricter case management and resist unnecessary adjournments. Correctional systems must ensure that pretrial detention is the exception, not the norm. When each component of the system deflects responsibility onto another, the citizen bears the cost.
Nigeria’s justice system cannot continue to function as a waiting room with no clock. Delay erodes trust, normalizes impunity, and signals that accountability is negotiable. The lesson is clear, when delay carries no consequence, it persists. When it becomes costly, professionally, institutionally, and publicly, it diminishes.
The path forward is not mysterious. Align incentives, enforce timelines, expand access, and make performance visible. Justice, delivered within a reasonable time, ceases to be a privilege for the persistent or powerful. It becomes what it was always meant to be, a public good.
*AG Ahmed, writer, academic forensic physician, and public affairs analyst, writes from Canada