Amnesty calls for stronger AU support for African Court on human rights

Individuals and civil society lack adequate judicial recourse for human rights violations in their countries due to limited Court access.
A judgment is only as powerful as a government's willingness to enforce it.
The African Court has issued binding rulings, but AU member states have been slow to implement them.
Mark

Why does it matter that only seven countries allow their citizens to bring cases directly to this court?

Mimi

Because without that access, most Africans have no way to use it. A farmer whose land is seized, a journalist imprisoned, a person tortured—they can't go to the court themselves. They depend on their government or an NGO to bring the case, and many governments won't do that against themselves.

Mark

So the court exists, but it's locked behind a gate.

Mimi

Exactly. And five countries actually locked the gate after opening it. They had allowed access, then withdrew it. That's a deliberate choice to cut off their own people.

Mark

What happens when the court wins a case—when it rules that a government violated someone's rights?

Mimi

The judgment is binding in law. But there's no enforcement mechanism with teeth. If a government ignores it, the court can't send in police. It relies on the AU to pressure compliance, and the AU hasn't been aggressive about that.

Mark

So you can win and still lose.

Mimi

You can get justice on paper and see nothing change on the ground. That's why Amnesty is calling for the AU to actually monitor whether states comply, not just issue judgments and hope.

Mark

The court has handled over 250 cases. That sounds like a lot of work.

Mimi

It is. But spread across 55 countries over 20 years, it's also a fraction of the violations happening. And the cases are clustered in a few regions. Central Africa, North Africa, and Southern Africa barely appear in the court's docket because access is so restricted there.

Mark

What would change if all 55 countries ratified and opened access?

Mimi

You'd likely see cases from regions that are currently invisible to the court. You'd see more pressure on governments to comply with judgments because their own citizens could bring cases. And you'd build a body of jurisprudence that actually reflects the continent's diversity of human rights challenges.

  • A court built to be the continent's last refuge for justice is being quietly strangled by the governments that created it — through non-ratification, withdrawn access rights, and ignored rulings.
  • Five nations — Benin, Côte d'Ivoire, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Tunisia — once opened their doors to individual complaints, then shut them again, leaving their own citizens with no regional avenue for redress.
  • The African Commission, empowered to refer cases to the court, has done so only three times in twenty years, leaving a vast enforcement gap that no other body has moved to fill.
  • Over 250 completed cases and nearly 150 judgments prove the court can act with substance and precedent — but Central, North, and Southern Africa remain nearly absent from its docket due to access barriers.
  • Amnesty International is pressing for full ratification, restoration of direct-access declarations, and genuine compliance with binding judgments before the court's structural marginalization becomes permanent.

Two decades after its founding, the African Court on Human and Peoples' Rights stands as a testament to the continent's aspirations for justice — and to the gap between institutional promise and political will. Amnesty International's anniversary report reveals that only 34 of 55 African Union member states have ratified the court's founding protocol, and a mere seven permit their own citizens to bring cases directly before it. The court has delivered landmark rulings on press freedom, indigenous land, and environmental harm, yet its judgments too often go unimplemented, and its docket remains thin where access is denied. What is at stake is not merely a regional legal mechanism, but the question of whether governments will honor the human dignity they pledged, in writing, to protect.

Twenty years after opening its doors, the African Court on Human and Peoples' Rights remains one of the continent's most consequential and most underused instruments for justice. Amnesty International marked the milestone this week with a report carrying an uncomfortable message: the court's potential is being squandered by the governments that built it.

The numbers are stark. Only 34 of the African Union's 55 member states have ratified the protocol establishing the court, and just seven allow their citizens and civil society organizations to file complaints directly. Five countries — Benin, Côte d'Ivoire, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Tunisia — once granted that access, then withdrew it, shutting the door on their own people's ability to seek continental justice.

The court's record, where it has been allowed to function, is substantive. Since 2006 it has finalized more than 250 cases, issuing landmark rulings on press freedom in Burkina Faso, indigenous land rights for Kenya's Ogiek people, environmental harm off Côte d'Ivoire's coast, and discrimination against people with albinism in Tanzania. These decisions set precedent that extends far beyond the individual cases.

Yet the court's reach is geographically lopsided. Central, North, and Southern Africa are severely underrepresented — a direct consequence of access restrictions. The African Commission, which holds the power to refer cases to the court, has exercised that right only three times in two decades.

A second failure compounds the first: implementation. Governments routinely drag their feet on complying with the court's binding judgments, and the AU's Executive Council has not applied sufficient pressure to change that pattern. Amnesty's call is direct — full ratification, restored individual access, and genuine enforcement of decisions already handed down. The court has shown it can deliver justice. What remains missing is the political will to let it.

Twenty years after opening its doors, the African Court on Human and Peoples' Rights remains one of the continent's most important but underutilized instruments for justice. Amnesty International released a report this week marking the milestone, and the message was clear: the court's potential is being squandered by the very governments that created it.

The numbers tell the story. Of the 55 African Union member states, only 34 have ratified the protocol that established the court. More striking still: just seven nations have taken the additional step of allowing their own citizens and civil society organizations to bring complaints directly to the bench. Five countries—Benin, Côte d'Ivoire, Rwanda, Tanzania, and Tunisia—had previously granted this access, then withdrew it, closing the door on their people's ability to seek justice through this regional avenue. The result is a court that exists in law but remains inaccessible to most of the people it was designed to protect.

Since the court began operations in 2006, it has completed more than 250 cases and issued nearly 150 judgments finding human rights violations. The work has been substantive. The court strengthened protections for journalists in Burkina Faso after the Zongo and Konaté cases in 2014. It affirmed indigenous land rights for the Ogiek people in Kenya in 2017. In 2023, it developed new jurisprudence on environmental protection and the right to health after examining the dumping of chemical waste off Côte d'Ivoire's coast. Most recently, in 2025, it issued a decision addressing discrimination and violence against people with albinism in Tanzania. These are not abstract legal victories; they establish precedent that ripples across the continent.

Yet the court's reach remains geographically lopsided. Central Africa, North Africa, and Southern Africa are severely underrepresented in its caseload, a direct consequence of access restrictions. The African Commission on Human and Peoples' Rights, another AU body with the power to refer cases to the court, has done so only three times in two decades. Other actors entitled to bring cases—AU member states and regional organizations—have rarely exercised that right.

Amnesty's report also documents a second critical failure: implementation. States have been slow to comply with the court's binding judgments. When the court orders remedies for human rights violations, governments drag their feet. The AU's Executive Council, which should be monitoring compliance and pressuring states to act, has not been sufficiently proactive. A judgment is only as powerful as a government's willingness to enforce it.

Japhet Biegon, Amnesty's Deputy Regional Director for East and Southern Africa, framed the challenge plainly: the court is essential for people who cannot obtain justice at home, yet it remains hamstrung by the very member states that should be strengthening it. The solution requires three things. First, every AU member state must ratify the protocol. Second, those states must make the declaration allowing direct access by individuals and NGOs. Third, governments must actually implement the court's decisions when they lose cases.

The court's 20-year track record shows it can deliver. What it needs now is the political will of African governments to let it work.

The African Court is an essential judicial avenue for individuals and civil society organizations who cannot obtain prompt, effective and adequate remedy for human rights violations in their own countries.
— Japhet Biegon, Amnesty International Deputy Regional Director for East and Southern Africa
Limited access remains one of the African Court's biggest obstacles.
— Japhet Biegon, Amnesty International
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