By Bimbo Adenrele
Molade Marsh was horrified when compromising pictures of her with her ex‑lover arrived by courier, accompanied by a threatening letter. The images looked real, but she could not remember ever taking them. Her fiancé was informed, and the matter eventually reached the police. The ex‑lover, an IT specialist, confessed: the pictures were fake, generated using digital applications. His jealousy had driven him to create what is now widely recognised as a “deepfake.”
This scenario illustrates one of the most pressing challenges facing modern courts. Technology can now fabricate highly realistic photographs, videos and audio recordings of people doing things they never actually did. Such manipulations, if accepted uncritically, could lead to grave injustice.
Legal practitioners like Bukola Ayisire, Esq., emphasise that digital evidence is increasingly central to litigation in Nigeria. Courts are confronted with materials such as social media posts, WhatsApp messages, CCTV footage, emails, smartphone data and computer‑generated documents in criminal, civil, matrimonial and electoral matters. Digital evidence can provide real‑time and verifiable proof that may overcome some of the limitations associated with traditional oral testimony. For example, a WhatsApp conversation can establish threats or agreements, a Facebook post can reveal conduct or location, and CCTV footage can capture events unseen by eyewitnesses. But all must be authenticated.
The Evidence Act 2011, particularly Section 84, provides the framework for admitting computer‑generated evidence. It requires proof that the device was regularly used, that information was supplied in the ordinary course of activity, that the device was functioning properly, and that the information was produced in the ordinary course of business. Certification requirements also apply. Amendments in 2023 expanded the definition of “computer” to include modern devices such as smartphones and cameras, recognising that much evidence today is created or stored on mobile phones. This was a crucial step, given the ubiquity of mobile devices in everyday life.
Yet, the fact that something appears online does not automatically make it admissible. Courts must consider relevance, authenticity and reliability. Evidence can be challenged if photographs are edited, social media posts cropped, WhatsApp conversations manipulated, or videos generated using artificial intelligence. The Molade case demonstrates the danger perfectly: a photograph that appears real may be completely false. Deepfakes, AI‑generated images, videos or audio recordings, can convincingly depict people saying or doing things they never did. Imagine a situation where an accused person is shown on CCTV committing a crime, only for forensic examination to reveal that the footage was digitally manipulated. The court must therefore be careful not to assume that every photograph, video or recording is genuine simply because it looks real.
The Cybercrimes Act 2015 strengthens the framework for investigating and preserving electronic evidence. Digital forensic techniques can help investigators establish when a file was created, when it was modified, the device used, the source of a message, whether information was deleted, and whether evidence has been tampered with. This is vital in cases involving cybercrime, fraud, blackmail and online harassment. Forensic experts can examine metadata, detect alterations, and trace digital footprints. But Nigeria faces challenges: limited infrastructure, shortage of forensic experts, and uneven judicial understanding of emerging technologies.
WhatsApp conversations are increasingly relevant in litigation. Messages may help establish threats, agreements, communication between parties or other facts in dispute. But screenshots alone are not enough. Courts must be satisfied about authenticity and evidential foundation. Social media posts can also become evidence. A viral post may provide information about a person’s activities or statements, but virality does not equal admissibility. Context matters: a photograph or video may tell only part of the story. Mrs Ayisire referred to cases including Ogunbiyi v Ogunbiyi and Dickson v Sylva in discussing the importance of electronic communications in litigation. The lesson is clear: electronic communication cannot simply be accepted because one party produces a screenshot.
CCTV footage can be extremely valuable in criminal investigations and prosecutions. It may show events that occurred when no eyewitness was present. But it must be properly authenticated. Courts must ask whether the recording is genuine, whether the device was functioning properly, whether the recording has been altered, whether the date and time are reliable, and whether the person or event shown can properly be identified. Artificial intelligence adds another layer. Facial‑recognition technology can assist investigators in identifying suspects from CCTV footage and other images. In controlled conditions, facial recognition can be highly accurate. But it is not infallible. Its reliability may be affected by poor lighting, camera quality, the angle of the person’s face, image resolution, changes in appearance, or bias in the underlying AI system. There is therefore a danger that an innocent person could be wrongly identified. Technology should assist justice, not replace human judgment.
The manipulation of digital materials during election periods demonstrates the danger. Fake videos and doctored content can spread rapidly, influencing public opinion before authenticity is established. This underscores the need for courts and election authorities to develop technical capacity to detect manipulation. Election petitions increasingly involve digital evidence, from social media posts to electronic voter records. Courts must be equipped to handle such evidence, ensuring that justice is not undermined by technological manipulation.
Mrs Ayisire believes that Nigerian courts and legal practitioners have made progress in dealing with digital evidence, but significant challenges remain. These include inadequate technological infrastructure, limited training for judges and lawyers, shortage of digital‑forensics experts, uneven judicial understanding of emerging technologies, difficulties in authenticating sophisticated AI‑generated evidence, and lack of consistent procedures for dealing with complex digital evidence. There has been progress through measures such as e‑filing and judicial training programmes. But more investment in technology and continuous training are necessary.
Nigeria’s justice system must keep pace with technological development. Judges, lawyers, police officers and other justice‑sector professionals need regular training in artificial intelligence, deepfakes, digital forensics, cybersecurity, metadata analysis and electronic authentication. Clear procedures for handling AI‑generated evidence must be established. Technology is no longer outside the courtroom; it is now integral to modern litigation. CCTV footage, WhatsApp messages, social media posts, smartphones, artificial intelligence and digital forensics can help courts discover the truth. But they can also be manipulated.
The Molade case demonstrates the danger perfectly: a photograph that appears real may be completely false. Nigerian courts must therefore strike a careful balance. Digital evidence should neither be rejected simply because it is technological nor accepted simply because it looks convincing. It must be relevant, authentic, reliable and properly presented in accordance with Nigerian law.
The ultimate objective remains unchanged: justice must be done and technology must serve justice, not undermine it. Nigeria’s courts are at a crossroads. Technology offers powerful tools for truth‑finding, but it also presents unprecedented risks of manipulation. The challenge is to harness technology responsibly, strengthen legal frameworks, invest in forensic capacity, and train justice‑sector professionals. Only then can Nigeria’s courts ensure that digital evidence serves justice rather than distorting it.
