26/05/2026
There is a principle of law often summarized as: “He who alleges must prove.” , this is not just street wisdom; it is a legal reality. Under the Evidence Act, the burden of proof generally lies on the person who asserts a fact. If you make an accusation, especially one capable of damaging another person’s reputation, the law may require you to substantiate it with credible evidence.
This is where many Nigerians dangerously misunderstand the word “allegedly.”
Adding “allegedly” before a statement does not automatically protect you from liability for defamation. Courts do not merely look at vocabulary; they examine the substance, intention, context, and effect of the publication. If the ordinary reader would reasonably conclude that you are asserting a damaging fact as true, you may still be exposed legally.
For example, if someone publicly says:
“Allegedly, Mr. X is sleeping with another man’s wife,”
without evidence, witnesses, documents, recordings, or verifiable facts, the statement can still amount to defamation because it attacks character and reputation.
Social media has created a culture where people speak with absolute confidence on matters they cannot prove. Nigerians now conduct “trial by Twitter,” “trial by blog,” and “trial by WhatsApp broadcast.” But courts operate differently from social media. Emotion, confidence, popularity, or virality are not evidence.
In law, evidence matters.
This is why journalists, bloggers, commentators, and even ordinary users must understand the difference between:
- suspicion,
- opinion,
- rumor,
- and provable fact.
A person may genuinely believe something to be true and still lose a defamation case if they cannot legally justify the publication.
The consequences are not theoretical. Across different jurisdictions, people have faced damages, fines, criminal defamation proceedings, or imprisonment connected to reckless publications. The issue is not simply “freedom of speech”; it is the balance between freedom of expression and protection of reputation.
Under Section 39 of the 1999 Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria, citizens enjoy freedom of expression. However, that right is not absolute. Nigerian law also protects dignity, reputation, and public order. This is why defamation law exists.
Many people also fail to understand another legal reality:
being invited by the police or a court over a statement is not necessarily oppression. Once you present yourself as someone with knowledge of a damaging allegation, the law can demand that you justify it.
The digital age has amplified recklessness. A tweet typed in 15 seconds can become Exhibit A in court years later. Screenshots survive deletion. Retweets can spread liability. Podcasts, blogs, captions, YouTube commentary, and Facebook posts are all capable of becoming legal evidence.
The deeper lesson here is this:
modern communication has given ordinary people the power once reserved for newspapers and television stations, but many still speak without understanding the legal responsibility attached to publication.
In law, words are not cheap.
Words create consequences.
And sometimes, consequences arrive wearing a court robe.
By the way a young boy less than 18 years playfully tweeted something about Tony Elumelu and his family, he will definitely live to talk about the experience.
