By Emeka Amaefula
REAL REASONS WHY COURT INTERIM Ex-PARTE RELIEF MAY NOT SAVE GOVERNOR FUBARA IF IMPEACHMENT ULTIMATELY SUCCEEDS .
INTERIM COURT ORDERS VS THE CONSTITUTION: WHY FUBARA’S LEGAL SHIELD MAY FAIL
Section 188 vs Court Injunctions: The Constitutional Trap Before Fubara
When Politics Trumps Litigation: Rivers Impeachment and the Limits of the Court.
In the heat of Nigeria’s perennial gubernatorial crises, a recurring question resurfaces: can a court of law stop, suspend, or truncate impeachment proceedings against a sitting governor? A close reading of the Constitution, supported by judicial precedents, suggests a blunt answer—not while the process is ongoing and properly conducted.
Impeachment under Nigeria’s constitutional framework is fundamentally a legislative exercise, not a judicial one. Section 188 of the 1999 Constitution (as amended) vests the entire procedure squarely in the hands of the State House of Assembly. From the initial notice of allegation, through investigation, to final removal, the process is designed as a political accountability mechanism insulated—deliberately—from judicial interruption. Any attempt by the courts to preemptively halt it risks colliding head-on with the doctrine of separation of powers.
The Constitution carefully lays out the safeguards. A notice of allegation must be signed by at least one-third of the legislators. A motion to investigate must secure a two-thirds majority. An investigative panel must be constituted. And only after the panel’s findings can another two-thirds vote remove the governor. These hurdles are meant to prevent frivolous impeachments, but they do not invite judges into the arena mid-game.
This is where many political actors misunderstand the role of the courts. Judicial intervention is not entirely excluded, but it is post-facto, not anticipatory. Courts can review an impeachment only after it has been concluded—and only to determine whether constitutional procedures were breached. That distinction is critical.
History bears this out. Rashidi Ladoja’s 2006 impeachment in Oyo State was nullified by the Supreme Court, not because impeachment itself was illegal, but because the House of Assembly violated constitutional requirements on quorum and procedure. The same fate befell the impeachment of Ayo Fayose in Ekiti State, which collapsed under judicial scrutiny due to procedural defects, including an improperly constituted investigative panel. In both cases, the courts did not stop impeachment; they corrected unlawful execution after the fact.
Against this backdrop, the Rivers State crisis involving Governor Siminalayi Fubara takes on sharper constitutional meaning. Reliance on interim ex-parte court orders as a political shield may offer temporary relief, but it is a fragile defense if the House of Assembly meticulously follows Section 188 to the letter.
Two provisions are particularly damning to hopes of judicial truncation.
Section 188(5) imposes a mandatory duty on the Chief Judge of a state. Once the House of Assembly validly resolves to investigate allegations of gross misconduct, the Chief Judge shall, within seven days of the Speaker’s request, appoint a seven-member investigative panel.
The language is imperative, not permissive. There is no constitutional discretion to delay or refuse based on court injunctions. Any attempt to restrain this step amounts to inserting judicial veto power where the Constitution provides none.
Even more decisive is Section 188(10),the constitutional ouster clause. It explicitly states that no proceedings or determination of the panel or of the House of Assembly— or any matter relating to them— shall be entertained or questioned in any court. This sweeping provision removes judicial jurisdiction over impeachment proceedings in real time. Nigerian courts, including the Supreme Court in Inakoju v. Adeleke (2007), have consistently affirmed that while impeachment must follow due process, courts cannot micromanage or interrupt the process while it is ongoing.
Applied to Rivers State, this means that court orders aimed at stopping notifications to the Chief Judge, blocking panel constitution, or freezing legislative steps are constitutionally vulnerable. They directly contradict the express wording of Section 188 and undermine legislative autonomy.
Beyond law, however, lies politics—and this is where Governor Fubara’s predicament deepens. Nearly three years into office, with access to the full weight of executive power and state resources, his failure to consolidate loyalty within the House of Assembly is politically costly. Nigerian politics rewards decisiveness, negotiation, and strategic coalition-building. Hesitation and dependence on external rescue missions—whether from the presidency or the courts—rarely end well.
An impeachment battle is not won in courtrooms; it is won on the legislative floor. As long as the Rivers State House of Assembly remains hostile and procedurally disciplined, litigation offers only temporary delay, not salvation. Even Fubara’s supporters must now confront the fatigue of endless political brinkmanship, stalled governance, and institutional paralysis.
In the final analysis, interim court relief may slow the march, but it cannot rewrite the Constitution. If the Rivers Assembly follows Section 188 with precision, judicial intervention will likely come only after the dust settles—and by then, the political damage may already be done. The hard lesson is this: in impeachment, the law sets the rules, but politics decides the outcome.
——–Emeka Amaefula —-+234(0)8111813069—
