On November 20, 2025, a Nigerian court delivered a verdict that sent shockwaves throughout the country and the international community: Nnamdi Kanu, leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (Ipob), was convicted on terrorism charges and sentenced to life in prison. The decision, handed down by Judge James Omotosho in Abuja, marked a dramatic turn in a saga that has spanned decades, ignited fierce debate about justice and separatism, and left deep scars in Nigeria’s southeast.
Nnamdi Kanu, 58, is no stranger to controversy or the courtroom. As reported by France 24 and The Guardian, Kanu has been the face of the Biafran separatist movement, a cause with roots stretching back to the late 1960s. The original Biafra, comprising much of Nigeria’s old Eastern Region, declared independence in 1967, sparking a brutal civil war that lasted until 1970 and claimed up to 3 million lives. After Biafra’s surrender, the region was reintegrated into Nigeria, but grievances over political and economic marginalization have continued to fester, fueling secessionist sentiment.
Kanu’s conviction represents the latest—and perhaps most consequential—chapter in this ongoing struggle. According to Judge Omotosho, prosecutors demonstrated that Kanu had used Ipob to incite attacks on both security officials and civilians, not only in the southeast but also during anti-police protests in Lagos. In the judge’s words: “The court finds that the defendant, Nnamdi Kanu, is an international terrorist and must be treated accordingly.” Omotosho added, “His intention was quite clear as he believed in violence. These threats of violence were nothing but terrorist acts.”
The courtroom drama was intense. Kanu, who also holds British citizenship, dismissed his legal team and chose to represent himself. This decision led to heated exchanges and, at one point, his removal from court for what was described as “unruly” behavior. As The Guardian recounts, Kanu challenged the legal basis for the charges, reportedly exclaiming, “Which law states that you can charge me on an unwritten law? Show me.” He further protested, “Omotosho, where is the law? Any judgment declared in this court is a complete rubbish.”
The road to this verdict was long and fraught. Kanu was first detained by Nigerian authorities in October 2015, facing multiple charges including treasonable felony. After spending 18 months in custody, he was granted bail. However, he vanished from public view until 2021, when he was extradited from Kenya in a move his supporters described as an extraordinary rendition. Prosecutors, determined to make an example of Kanu, had even called for the death penalty.
Ipob, the group Kanu leads, has been at the center of Nigeria’s most persistent secessionist agitation. The organization was designated a terrorist group by the Nigerian government in 2017, a move that drew condemnation from some quarters but was welcomed by others who viewed Ipob’s activities as a threat to national unity. Ipob’s influence, in large part, stemmed from Kanu’s oratory on the London-based Radio Biafra, which became a rallying point for supporters both within Nigeria and among the diaspora.
The consequences of Ipob’s campaign have been deadly. According to SBM Intelligence, a geopolitical risk consultancy cited by The Guardian, separatist militants have been linked to approximately 700 deaths since 2021. This includes a particularly violent incident in May 2024, when five soldiers and six others were killed in an ambush in Abia state. The violence has not been one-sided; military personnel have also faced allegations of human rights abuses amid efforts to quell the unrest.
The separatist movement has not been monolithic. During Kanu’s imprisonment, a splinter group emerged: the Biafran Government in Exile (BGIE). Led by Simon Ekpa, who styles himself as the group’s prime minister, BGIE has been accused of similar acts of terror. In September 2025, a Finnish court sentenced Ekpa to six years on terrorism-related charges, highlighting the international dimensions of the Biafra question.
One of the most visible tactics employed by separatist militants has been the enforcement of “sit-at-home days” on Mondays. During these periods, businesses, schools, and daily life are brought to a standstill in parts of southeastern Nigeria, often under threat of violence. These actions, intended as protest, have further deepened divisions and disrupted the lives of ordinary citizens.
Kanu’s legal and political maneuvers have extended well beyond Nigeria’s borders. He has hired U.S. lobbying firms, including one owned by former congressman Jim Moran, in an effort to draw international attention to his cause. These efforts appear to have borne some fruit: in November 2025, Nigeria was designated a “country of particular concern” by former U.S. President Donald Trump. Trump threatened to attack Nigeria, citing unproven claims of a “Christian genocide” in the north. Before his conviction, Kanu himself wrote directly to Trump, alleging a “Judeo-Christian genocide” was underway in southeast Nigeria.
The Biafra issue, then, is not merely a Nigerian affair. It is a flashpoint that has drawn in actors from across the globe, reflecting broader concerns about ethnic conflict, religious persecution, and the limits of state power. The Nigerian government, for its part, has maintained that its actions are necessary to preserve national unity and prevent further bloodshed. Critics, however, argue that the heavy-handed response to secessionist agitation has only deepened resentment and alienation.
The conviction and sentencing of Nnamdi Kanu are likely to reverberate for years to come. Supporters see him as a martyr for the cause of Biafran self-determination, while detractors view him as a dangerous provocateur whose actions have cost hundreds of lives. The southeast remains restive, with secessionist sentiments simmering just below the surface. Meanwhile, the broader Nigerian public is left to grapple with the legacy of a conflict that, decades after the guns fell silent, continues to shape the nation’s politics and identity.
As Nigeria looks to the future, the questions raised by Kanu’s conviction—about justice, representation, and the meaning of nationhood—remain unresolved. For now, the story of Biafra, and of those who would see it rise again, is far from over.