By ALO 360 Editorial Board
One of the pillars upon which every democracy stands is an independent, credible and predictable judiciary. Citizens may disagree with court judgments, but they should never lose confidence that the courts are guided by law, consistency and justice. Once that confidence begins to erode, the entire democratic structure is placed on shaky ground.
That is why the recent decision of the Federal High Court in Lokoja to set aside its own December 2025 judgment, which compelled the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC) to register the Nigeria Democratic Congress (NDC), deserves careful scrutiny. Justice Isah Dashen held that the earlier judgment was constitutionally defective because a party that claimed to have an interest in the matter, the Peace Movement Party (PMP), was not heard before judgment was delivered. He consequently vacated the judgment and ordered that the substantive suit begin afresh.
Whether that decision is legally correct is now for the appellate courts to determine. Indeed, the NDC has already approached the Court of Appeal to challenge the ruling. But beyond the legal arguments lies a far more troubling issue: the growing pattern of judicial decisions that leave Nigerians questioning whether certainty still exists in our justice system.
Only weeks earlier, another Federal High Court in Abuja ordered INEC to deregister the African Democratic Congress (ADC) and four other political parties over alleged constitutional deficiencies in their registration. That judgment was eventually overturned by the Court of Appeal. While appellate review is an integral part of every legal system, the frequency of these dramatic reversals, particularly in politically sensitive cases, continues to diminish public confidence in the judiciary.
The Lokoja case raises legitimate questions. Who exactly is the Peace Movement Party? It is not a registered political party. If it claimed an interest in the suit, was that interest sufficient to warrant reopening a matter that had already produced a final judgment? Did the circumstances satisfy the narrow legal exceptions that permit a court to revisit its own decision? These are questions that deserve answers, not because anyone seeks to interfere with judicial independence, but because justice must not only be done; it must be seen to be done.
The doctrine of functus officio exists for a reason. It protects the finality of litigation by preventing courts from endlessly reopening matters they have already determined. Like every legal principle, it has recognised exceptions. But whenever those exceptions are invoked, courts bear an even greater responsibility to demonstrate, through clear and convincing reasoning, why such extraordinary action has become necessary. Anything less only fuels suspicion, particularly in politically charged cases.
Unfortunately, the Nigerian judiciary enters this controversy with an image that is already under strain. Public perception of the courts has suffered considerably in recent years due to conflicting orders, forum shopping, political injunctions and judgments that appear inconsistent. Whether these perceptions are always justified is beside the point. Perception itself matters because the judiciary possesses neither the purse nor the sword. Its authority ultimately depends on public confidence.
This is why judges must exercise even greater restraint and diligence in matters capable of shaping Nigeria’s democratic future. Every politically significant judgment will inevitably attract scrutiny. That scrutiny should not be dismissed as an attack on judicial independence. Rather, it should encourage greater transparency, clearer reasoning and unwavering fidelity to established legal principles.
The appellate courts now have an opportunity to clarify the legal issues surrounding the Lokoja judgment. Their decision will not merely determine the fate of one political party. It will also determine whether Nigerians can continue to trust that judicial outcomes are driven solely by law and not by procedural manoeuvres or political calculations.
Nigeria’s democracy cannot flourish if citizens begin to believe that court judgments are unpredictable or susceptible to manipulation. The judiciary remains the last hope of the common man only for as long as it continues to inspire confidence.
Our judges must therefore guard not only their independence but also their credibility. At a time when public trust in institutions is steadily declining, the judiciary cannot afford actions that deepen suspicion or reinforce negative perceptions. The courts must remain temples of justice, not arenas of controversy. That is the only way to preserve both the integrity of the bench and the future of Nigeria’s democracy.
