We portray issues like inheritance battles, murder trials, where filmmakers often weave legal principles into their stories to heighten tension and deepen conflict.
But what happens when those legal concepts are misrepresented?
The new Netflix drama, Devil Is a Liar (2025), starring Nse Ikpe-Etim, has reignited conversations around Nollywood’s depiction of Nigerian legal processes. This time, it’s the principle of double jeopardy and the portrayal of divorce in Nigerian law.
Devil Is a Liar tells the story of Adaora, a successful real estate professional who falls into a destructive marriage with Jaiye, a man whose charm masks manipulation and deceit.
Amid betrayal and emotional turmoil, the plot dives into legal territory when Adaora faces criminal charges, raising issues of manslaughter, murder, and double jeopardy.
In one pivotal moment, the film suggests that Adaora, who has been tried and convicted of attempted murder, cannot be retried for the actual murder of the same man because of the principle of “double jeopardy.”
However, legal experts were quick to point out the misrepresentation.
A Lagos-based law firm, Lekan Bamidele & Co, released a statement addressing the error:
“Attempted murder and murder are not the same offence. They carry different elements and consequences in law. Being charged for attempted murder does not grant a person immunity if they later commit murder.”
Legally, double jeopardy protects individuals from being tried twice for the same offence after an acquittal or conviction.
In Nigeria, it is enshrined in Section 36(9) of the 1999 Constitution. The critical phrase is “the same offence.” Attempted murder and murder differ both in intention and in consequence.
Alabi Ayokunmi, Esq, a Lagos-based Legal Practitioner, Pulse spoke with explained:
“In the first scenario [manslaughter], there was no intention. In the second [murder], there was clear intent. These are different offences, based on different facts. Double jeopardy would not apply.”
The lawyer added that Adaora, under the law, could have sought damages against Jaiye for deception and wrongful imprisonment, but she would not have been immune from trial for murder if she later killed him.
The misrepresentation of divorce proceedings in Nigerian Law
The film also touches briefly on divorce when Jaiye threatens Adaora with “divorce papers” over a pregnancy dispute. Again, legal professionals flagged this as inaccurate for the Nigerian context.
Unlike Hollywood films, where characters simply “sign papers” to dissolve a marriage, divorce in Nigeria is a judicial process.
A marriage, seen as a contract before the state, can only be dissolved by a court order, not by mutual signatures at home.
“Divorce proceedings in Nigeria are not instant,” the lawyer clarified. “They involve filing petitions in court, proving grounds for dissolution, and meeting statutory requirements. It cannot be reduced to just serving papers.”
At first glance, these may look like harmless creative liberties. After all, isn’t Nollywood primarily about entertainment?
But legal professionals argue that misrepresentations weaken the credibility of Nigerian storytelling and risk misleading audiences who take cues from films about how society and its laws function
This is not uniquely Nigerian; Hollywood, too, has faced criticism for bending legal principles in shows like Suits or How to Get Away With Murder.
The difference is that big-budget productions often employ legal consultants to ensure accuracy where it matters.
Lekan Bamidele & Co. emphasised that Nollywood could do the same:
Consult legal advisors during script development.
Train scriptwriters on basic Nigerian legal principles.
Fact-check scripts where legal conflict is central to the plot.
Law, Storytelling, and Social Responsibility
Nollywood is more than entertainment; it is a mirror of Nigerian society and a cultural export shaping how the world perceives us.
When films misrepresent foundational laws like double jeopardy or divorce, they don’t just blur fiction and fact; they risk trivialising justice and reinforcing misinformation.
Devil Is a Liar succeeds as a gripping drama, but its legal missteps open a wider conversation about the responsibilities of filmmakers.
If Nollywood wants to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with global cinema, it must blend its creative power with a duty to represent reality, especially when it comes to law.
Because in storytelling, just like in the courtroom, the truth still matters.
