For decades, a specific label hung over Nigeria’s premier rights institution like a dark cloud: a “toothless bulldog”.The phrase, famously coined by the late, legendary human rights activist Chief Gani Fawehinmi, SAN, perfectly captured the skepticism that greeted the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) when it was established in 1995. Born in the iron grip of General Sani Abacha’s military regime, the Commission was widely viewed not as a genuine protector of the people, but as a public relations stunt to appease a furious international community.
Today, exactly 31 years later, the NHRC is on the verge of its most aggressive transformation yet. A pair of ambitious bills currently moving through the National Assembly are pushing to give this historic “bulldog” the sharpest set of legal teeth it has ever had. But as lawmakers push forward, a high-stakes debate has broken out in the halls of power over just how far this transformation should go.
A History of Skeletal Survival
To understand how high the stakes are today, one has to look back at the Commission’s incredibly humble—and heavily criticized—beginnings. When it first opened its doors in 1996, the NHRC was an agency in name only. It operated out of a cramped, two-room office within the National Assembly premises, utilizing borrowed staff to run skeletal operations. It possessed no independent budget and no real office of its own.
Despite these glaring limitations, it was handed a massive mandate: to investigate human rights violations ranging from police brutality and custodial deaths to the severe restrictions on freedom that defined the era of military rule.
It wasn’t until a crucial legal amendment in 2010 that the NHRC finally began to gain genuine international credibility, earning an ‘A’ status among global human rights institutions by complying with the UN’s Paris Principles. Yet, over the years, critics and officials alike agreed that the Commission’s legal framework remained far too weak for the challenges of the 21st century.
The Fight for Autonomy and Enforcement
That realization brings the story to the current legislative battleground. Two pieces of legislation—the National Human Rights Commission Act (Repeal and Enactment) Bill and the Human Rights Defenders Protection Bill—have reached a critical juncture after undergoing intense public hearings. Sponsored by lawmakers Hon. Abiola Makinde and Hon. Mudashiru Alani, the primary NHRC bill seeks to decouple the agency entirely from executive control.
At the heart of the bill is financial autonomy. Proponents want the NHRC’s funding to be a direct charge on the Consolidated Revenue Fund. The message is clear: a watchdog cannot effectively police the state if it has to beg the state for its monthly operational cash.
Furthermore, the bill proposes to turn the NHRC into a quasi-judicial powerhouse. Under the new provisions, the Commission’s decisions, awards, and recommendations would carry the same legal weight as a High Court judgment. It would also gain the power to issue search warrants, hand down subpoenas, and initiate contempt proceedings against those who ignore its directives.
“The proposed review will better position the Commission to protect the rights of citizens,” argued Dr. Anthony Ojukwu, SAN, the Executive Secretary of the NHRC, standing firmly behind the reforms. Ojukwu pointed out that a dedicated Human Rights Fund was technically established back in 2010 but has never actually received funding. This new law, he hopes, will change that.
Institutional Pushback
But the road to reform is rarely smooth, and the bills have run directly into resistance from the nation’s chief law officer. During the public hearings at the House of Representatives, the Attorney-General of the Federation (AGF) and Minister of Justice, Lateef Fagbemi, SAN, offered a mixed and highly conditional reaction that highlighted deep government anxieties.
Represented by Chief State Counsel Reuben Imarha, the AGF flatly opposed the second piece of legislation—the Human Rights Defenders Protection Bill, which aims to shield journalists, whistleblowers, and activists from state and private reprisals. Fagbemi argued that Nigeria already has sufficient laws protecting fundamental rights, warning that a dedicated law for defenders would only create “duplication and institutional conflict” among government agencies.
When it came to the primary NHRC bill, the AGF offered support but took a sharp knife to some of its most ambitious clauses. He fiercely opposed a clause requiring business owners to obtain an annual “human rights compliance certificate,” warning it could cripple the government’s efforts to attract investors and improve the ease of doing business. He also pushed back on a clause that would allow the Commission to borrow funds to prosecute cases, suggesting such moves should require strict approval from the Ministry of Justice to prevent abuse.
Furthermore, Fagbemi took aim at a proposal requiring multinational, financial, and oil companies to contribute 0.3 percent of their annual profits to the NHRC. He labeled it a “quasi-tax regime” that threatens to clash with the Federal Government’s ongoing tax reform programs.
An International Eye
As local politicians and institutional heads debate the fine print, the international community is watching closely, urging Nigeria to take the leap. Participating in the public hearings, UN Resident and Humanitarian Coordinator Mohamed Malick-Fall threw the full weight of the United Nations behind both bills. He called them critical steps toward global alignment and pledged that the UN stands ready to offer technical expertise to support the transition.
The NHRC began its life as an empty gesture in a time of military dictatorship. Now, with its future being debated in the halls of the National Assembly, Nigeria stands at a crossroads. Lawmakers must decide whether to side with the cautious, bureaucratic boundaries requested by the Ministry of Justice, or unleash the Commission to become the powerhouse its founders never intended it to be.
