Nigeria would soon experience another weekend. Music would be loud, bottles would be clinking, joints would be passing from hand to hand, and someone somewhere would be saying, “Abeg relax, na weekend.” Life moves fast like a television drama—one minute you’re laughing with friends, the next minute, trouble enters the scene. And when trouble comes, one popular line always shows up, like a bad actor who refuses to leave the screen: “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Now, let’s pause the movie for a moment and talk plainly.
Under Nigerian law, being drunk or high is not a free ticket out of crime. If you commit an offence while intoxicated, the law does not automatically pity you. In fact, the law is very firm on this point: intoxication, whether from alcohol or drugs, is generally not a defence to a criminal charge.
So when someone says, “I was intoxicated when I committed the crime; I wasn’t in control,” the law simply replies, “That is not enough.” And when another person says in street language, “I no know when I do am, I dey high,” the law waits patiently for the eyes to clear—then still holds the person responsible.
Why is the law like this? Because the law expects adults to take responsibility for what they put into their bodies. If you willingly drink alcohol or take drugs and then go on to commit a crime, the law assumes you chose the risk. You cannot light a fire and then complain that it burns.
But like every good Nigerian story, there is a twist.
The law does allow intoxication to be raised as a defence—but only in very limited and serious situations. And this is where many people get confused.
If someone else, without your consent, deliberately or carelessly made you intoxicated, and because of that you did not know that what you were doing was wrong, the law may listen to you. Imagine a situation where a person secretly spikes your drink, or tricks you into taking something you did not agree to. If, in that condition, you commit an act without understanding its wrongfulness, the law recognises that something different has happened.
The same applies if you truly did not know what you were doing at all—not because you chose to be high, but because someone else maliciously or negligently caused that intoxication. In such a case, the issue is not enjoyment or recklessness; it is lack of consent and loss of awareness.
There is another narrow door the law leaves open. If the intoxication was so severe that it temporarily made you insane at the time of committing the act, the court may consider it. But this is not the kind of “madness” people claim jokingly. It is a serious medical and legal matter that must be proven, not assumed.
In Nigeria, enjoyment is allowed. Carelessness is not excused. And the law, like a seasoned narrator, always reminds us: freedom comes with responsibility.
And here is the most important lesson for anyone watching this story unfold: the law does not accept excuses made with the mouth alone. You cannot just stand in court and talk your way out. Law is not a roadside argument. It demands proof.
If you claim intoxication as a defence, you must bring strong evidence—witnesses who can testify to what happened, medical reports showing your condition, and facts that convince the court that your case fits one of the narrow exceptions allowed by law. Without this, the defence collapses like a poorly built stage prop.
Depending on what you prove, the outcome may differ. You could be discharged. You could be sentenced. You could even be directed towards rehabilitation. But that decision will rest on evidence, not emotion.
So, as the weekend lights come on and the music gets louder, remember this simple truth: intoxication is not a shield against the law. When the party ends and the head clears, the law will still be standing, calm and firm, waiting to ask one question—what did you do, and can you prove why you should not be held responsible?
In Nigeria, enjoyment is allowed. Carelessness is not excused. And the law, like a seasoned narrator, always reminds us: freedom comes with responsibility.
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