The Decolonisation of Niger Delta Oil Pollution Cases

How my ‘Third Culture’ Identity Influences my Research

Small talk can sometimes feel daunting for me, especially when it comes to a quintessential icebreaker, ‘where are you from?’ – I find this question difficult to answer. I am a prime example of a ‘third culture kid’, someone who is raised in a culture different from their parents. Although I am British, I have spent my childhood living across Africa and Asia, as my father works in international development.

This mixed cultural identity has significantly influenced my research. After living in Kathmandu in Nepal from the ages of 16 to 18, I returned to the city again briefly as a researcher with Pro Public; a local forum for public interest litigation after my studies at the University of Warwick.

Similarly, when I chose a research topic for my postgraduate dissertation, my childhood in Nigeria inspired me to focus on the Niger Delta, the nation’s oil producing region. Although I lived far from the Niger Delta itself, I still experienced the resounding negative impacts from the infamously dysfunctional Nigerian oil industry due to the country’s dependence on oil revenue. I vividly remember being stuck in frustratingly long queues outside petrol stations because of the fuel shortage. Even as an eight-year-old I could not understand how an “oil rich” nation could run out of fuel.

The History of Resource Conflict in Nigeria

My research process began with exploring the history of resource conflict caused by the discovery of vast oil reserves in the Niger Delta, at the South-South geopolitical zone of Nigeria.

This led me to research Kenule Beeson (Ken) Saro-Wiwa and the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP), which he founded in the early 1990s. Saro-Wiwa was a writer and activist, belonging to the Ogoni tribe; one of many politically marginalised ethnic groups located in the Niger Delta. I was drawn to Saro-Wiwa because he spoke out against this “slick alliance” between the political ruling class and corporate power.  Multinational oil and gas companies (MNOCs) would operate in the Niger Delta through local subsidiary companies. This ‘slick alliance’ was formalised through participation agreements between these subsidiaries and the state-owned Nigeria National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPC).

Oil revenue contributed as much as 85% of total federation revenue during the early 2000s. Even though this has fallen to 50%, the majority of oil revenue still goes to the Federal Government, and the extent to which this is reinvested into the Niger Delta is questionable.

From Peaceful to Violent Resistance

The achievements of the Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People (MOSOP), such as the 1993 suspension of Shell’s operation in the Niger Delta, were inspiring and brought global attention and NGO support to the region. But this came at a tragic cost. In 1995, Saro-Wiwa and eight others were brutally executed by Nigeria’s former military dictator General Sani Abacha’s regime. This violence marked a turning point, pushing what was a peaceful resistance movement toward a more radical form of protest.

In the following years, violent resistant strategies, such as oil pipeline sabotage, became increasingly common in the Niger Delta. By 2003, the conflict descended into full-on militancy and insurgency. These resistance strategies crippled oil revenue flows, forcing the government to respond. In 2009, the insurgency finally ended, although violence and insecurity still festers and continues to affect the region, hindering oil production and economic development.

There was also a growing divestment trend by multinational oil and gas companies (MNOCs) away from the Niger Delta, and selling off their assets and shares to domestic Nigerian based companies to evade accountability. NGOs report that domestic companies often have neither the intention of remediating the inherited injustices, nor the capacity to uphold environmental standards.

In my research, I explore how both transnational environmental litigation (through lawsuits) and legislation (through laws) can serve as an alternative form of resistance, distinct from peaceful social protest movements and violent tactics like oil sabotage.

Unilateral Leadership as a New Form of Resistance

The international attention brought to the Niger Delta by Saro-Wiwa resulted in the drafting of UN Guiding Principles for Business and Human Rights, which was unanimously approved in 2011. However, this framework for business and human rights (BHRs) protection has been criticised for failing to impose any legal obligations on multinational companies (MNCs). Instead, MNCs are expected to self-regulate through adopting BHRs protections on a voluntary basis.

However, self-regulation does not work, given the extent of oil pollution and environmental damage caused in the Niger Delta by multinational oil and gas companies (MNOCs). Approximately, 6.5 million people live in the Niger Delta, and their economic livelihoods are dependent on the region’s rainforest and mangrove forest vegetative zones for farming and fishing. In 2024 alone, 1,050 oil spills were reported in the Niger Delta by government agencies. The consequences have been devastating on the Niger Delta, causing widespread land infertility, polluted water and air, as well as serious health problems for local communities.

In response, Europe (or home states) have engaged in business and human rights (BHRs) leadership by going above and beyond the international framework of self-regulation. This leadership has taken the form of both litigation (suing) and legislation (making laws):

1. Transnational environmental litigation

These are cases brought to European courts that sue multinational oil and gas companies (MNOCs) for oil pollution caused in the Niger Delta.

2. Business and human rights (BHR) legislation

These are national laws that impose stricter national regulations on MNOCs headquartered in the home state, holding them accountable for their overseas operations.

However, a key feature of the BHRs leadership is that they are often unilateral. The home state tends to be in the Global North, where many multinational companies are based, while the host state tends to be in the Global South, often bearing the unfair burden and consequences of hosting the multinational’s business operations.

This practice invites a decolonial critique, by excluding the host state whose people and environment are directly impacted. Therefore, unilateral regulation can be seen as “innately” “imperialistic” as it infringes on host state sovereignty, undermining the host country’s right to regulate and govern their own affairs.       

Transnational Environmental Litigation

The UK and the Netherlands have been at the forefront of championing business and human rights (BHRs), setting legal precedents through landmark cases such as Okpabi v Shell, and Four Nigerian Farmers v Shell.  These are considered breakthrough liability cases because they are the first to successfully establish a multinational corporation’s legal accountability for human rights and environmental violations caused by its foreign subsidiaries.

Business and human rights (BHR) Legislation

Other European countries have also attempted to lead in advancing business and human rights (BHR) protections. However, due to their more rigid civil law systems, they have focused on legislation rather than litigation. Since 2017, several European governments and the EU have passed new legislations, to ”identify, prevent, mitigate and account for” BHRs abuses committed by companies based in (or companies linked to) their jurisdiction. 

Rethinking Unilateralism: Why Litigation May Offer a Fairer Path to Accountability and Inclusion

I argue that unilateralism is problematic when one country creates business and human rights (BHR) regulations that affects others without their input. Instead, these transnational regulations should be made multilaterally— through international cooperation with the consent of all countries involved. I suggest thinking of litigation as organic unilateralism—a more flexible, evolving process—and legislation as codified unilateralism, more rigid and top-down. In my view, organic unilateralism is more legitimate, fairer, and more effective in promoting accountability.

BHRs legislation often formalises protections introduced by new governments. While this can appear progressive, decolonial legal commentators Caroline Lichuma (a business and human rights specialist at the University of Luxembourg) and Surya Deva (an environmental legal scholar and professor at Macquarie University, Australia), suggest that they are often just performative. These scholars suggest that such legislation is disingenuous, and rarely tackles the challenges faced by victims seeking justice.

Organic Unilateralism and Judicial Activism

Organic unilateralism through litigation means that more and more transnational cases about business and human rights (BHRs) are being heard in home states where the multinational company is based, rather than in the countries where the harm occurred. This has led to judicial activism, where judges go beyond strict legal interpretation of the law to try and achieve a fairer, more socially responsible positive outcomes

Black’s Law Dictionary defines judicial activism as a ‘philosophy of judicial decision-making’ whereby ‘judges allow their personal views about public policy, among other factors, to guide their decision’.  While this approach is still unilateral (with decisions made by home states in the Global North), I argue that it’s more legitimate, fair, and effective— especially as European courts increasingly show empathy for victims in affected countries.

Multilateralism as the ‘Minimum’ Standard for Democratic Inclusion

The ongoing multilateral UN negotiations for an internationally binding treaty that regulates multinational corporations on business and human rights (BHRs) provides important context for comparing these two types of unilateralism: organic and codified. Organic litigation —such as transnational lawsuits in UK and Dutch courts— emerged in the early 2010s, before the BHR treaty process began in 2014. In contrast, codified BHR legislation in Europe first gained momentum in 2017, well after the treaty process was already underway.

Global North countries have consistently interfered and opposed this treaty process, claiming that it would infringe on their national sovereignty. However, Global South countries have repeatedly argued that multilateralism is the “minimum” standard for democratic participation in global law making. I believe that an international BHRs treaty would be more legitimate than a pan-European “patchwork” of unilateral national laws.

When home countries create their own BHRs legislation, this risks reinforcing the idea that a multilateral BHRs treaty is unnecessary, while simultaneously imposing unilateral rules on host states. This approach is both hypocritical and imperialistic. It dismisses the need for inclusive global cooperation and undermines the sovereignty of Global South countries by imposing external standards and rules without their input.

The Importance of Global South Norms

As of 2025, UK transnational environmental litigation has gained greater legitimacy, especially through cases such as Ogale & Bille Communities v Shell. Unlike earlier cases that relied on British legal principles, this case invokes both Nigerian constitutional and international human rights.

While further trials will take place in late 2026, the claimants have so far grounded their claims under the Nigerian Constitution and the African Charter on Human and People’s Rights—marking a shift toward frameworks that reflect national and African legal principles, rather than solely basing it on Western norms.

Most importantly, human rights claims are not limited by time. This means communities can still seek justice for environmental damage caused even after a company has sold its assets and moved out of a region. Human rights arguments also align more closely with legal traditions or Global South jurisprudence. Research shows that courts in the Global South are more likely to recognise a ‘right to a healthy environment’, especially in climate change and environmental cases.

These legal claims in courts help close the “accountability and enforcement gaps” often found in domestic (host state) climate and environmental law — gaps that traditional European legal frameworks have struggled to address effectively through unilateral regulation.

In Nigeria, for example, even though environmental protections have improved, the Federal Government still controls all legal disputes relating to the oil and gas sector. Since the Government depends heavily on oil revenues, it continues to allow multinational companies to sell assets to domestic oil companies, even if this contradicts Nigeria’s climate commitments in reaching net zero by 2060, and worsens environmental degradation in the Niger Delta.

Bringing Diverse Voices into Business and Human Rights Protection

While I have concerns around unilateral regulation by home states, I argue that in the context of business and human rights (BHRs) unilateralism is both reasonable, sensible and necessary, especially given the lack of meaningful progress in advancing an internationally binding multilateral treaty. That said, not all forms of unilateralism are equal. I believe organic transnational environmental litigation is legitimate, constructive and more beneficial than codified BHRs legislation.

I would further suggest that organic litigation can avoid decolonial critiques by taking Global South legal systems and human rights frameworks more seriously, rather than defaulting to European legal standards. Perhaps, if we begin to recognise the value of Global South legal traditions, rules, norms, and customs, we can pave the way for more locally derived BHRs regulation. This, in turn, would reduce the burden on victims to seek justice in distant European courts, where the process often feels deeply impersonal, disconnected (delocalised), and removed from their lived experiences.