“In 2022, Nigeria amended its biosafety law to explicitly allow genome editing for crops. We distinguish CRISPR from traditional GMOs. We have accepted that gene editing needs legal oversight when applied to plants.”
Imagine a couple flying to Dubai. Not for a holiday. For what a clinic calls “genetic optimisation.”
They select height. They select intelligence. They select sex.
Using a powerful gene-editing tool called CRISPR, the clinic edits their embryo’s DNA—promising a child designed for success.
Months later, they return to Lagos with a baby whose genetic code was shaped not by nature alone, but by human choice.
This exact story has not been documented. But it is entirely plausible. And Nigeria has no law to stop it, regulate it, or even know about it.
We are entering the age of programmable humans. Our laws are silent. That silence is dangerous.
CRISPR: The Technology Is Already Here
CRISPRCas9 is a tool that allows scientists to cut and modify DNA with remarkable precision. It was developed to treat genetic diseases like sickle cell anaemia.
But it also opens the door to enhancement—altering traits that have nothing to do with illness: physical ability, intelligence, even eye colour.
The most important distinction is germline editing. When genes are changed in embryos, sperm, or eggs, those changes are permanent. They pass from parent to child to grandchild.
A single decision in a laboratory today can shape an entire bloodline tomorrow.
In 2018, a Chinese scientist named He Jiankui shocked the world. He announced the birth of the first gene-edited babies.
The global reaction was swift. He was prosecuted. Scientists condemned the experiment. The World Health Organisation (WHO) said heritable human genome editing remains irresponsible until safety is proven and society agrees on the rules.
To date, no country has a clear, widely accepted law that permits heritable genome editing for healthy people. Yet, the technology travels faster than the law.
Clinics abroad, especially in parts of the Middle East and Asia, offer procedures that wealthy Nigerians can access through medical tourism.
What is forbidden or uncertain at home becomes available abroad. The result is genetic enhancement by passport.
This Affects Every Nigerian, Not Just The Rich
You might think this is a problem for the wealthy few. It is not. Every Nigerian will feel its consequences.
In a country already struggling with inequality in healthcare, education, and jobs, gene editing introduces a new and more permanent divide: biological inequality.
The wealthy may soon not only live better—they may be born better. Inequality, once economic, risks becoming genetic.
We Can Learn From South Africa’s Mistakes
We do not need to guess what happens when regulation is unclear. We can look at South Africa.
In May 2024, South Africa’s health ethics council issued guidelines that appeared to permit heritable human genome editing research.
The global scientific community reacted with alarm. The journal, Nature, reported that South Africa might become “the first country to explicitly permit genetically modified children.”
By December 2024, more than 120 scientists had called for a rethink. They warned of “designer babies” and a slide toward modern eugenics. In August 2025, the guidelines were withdrawn entirely.
The episode exposed a hard question: should such technologies be banned outright, or cautiously regulated? Supporters of regulation said it would allow oversight. Critics warned that giving any permission, even for research, risks irreversible harm.
Nigeria has not yet confronted this dilemma. We have no guidelines to debate, no regulatory body to consult, no national conversation to guide us.
Nigeria Already Regulates Gene Editing—For Plants, Not People
The silence is striking because Nigeria has already recognised the need to regulate gene editing in another area.
In 2022, Nigeria amended its biosafety law to explicitly allow genome editing for crops. We distinguish CRISPR from traditional GMOs. We have accepted that gene editing needs legal oversight when applied to plants.
For humans, however, the law is mute. The National Health Act 2014 contains no provisions on gene editing. The Child Rights Act says nothing about genetic identity. There is no national bioethics commission with the power to oversee emerging biomedical technologies.
At the same time, Section 51 of the National Health Act prohibits the commercialisation of human organs. It recognises that some parts of the human body must be protected from market forces. Yet genetic enhancement, arguably far more profound, remains entirely unregulated.
The Dignity Question
We must ask the hard questions.
Is it dignified to be born programmed? To inherit, not only your parents’ genes, but their preferences—selected, purchased, and engineered before you ever existed?
Is it just to create a future where some children are genetically optimised, while others are left to chance?
Who owns the human genome? The parents who commission its editing? The child who must live with its consequences? Or society, which must face the long-term impact of irreversible biological change?
These are not abstract questions. They go to the heart of what it means to be human in an age where biology itself becomes editable.
What Nigeria Must Do Now
We do not need to wait for a crisis. The lessons from elsewhere are clear.
First, establish a National Bioethics Commission with a clear legal mandate to regulate emerging biomedical technologies, including gene editing.
Such a body must be independent, include scientists, lawyers, religious leaders, and ordinary citizens, and be accountable to the public.
Second, adopt a precautionary position: prohibit heritable human genome editing for enhancement purposes until safety is proven and global consensus emerges.
Third, bring medical tourism for genetic procedures within regulatory oversight. Disclosure requirements, reporting obligations, and clear prohibitions are needed to stop Nigerians from outsourcing ethical risks to other countries.
Fourth, hold public engagement. These decisions cannot be left to scientists or politicians alone. They must reflect our values, our cultures, and our collective moral judgment.
The Bottom Line
The couple we imagined flying to Dubai has not been documented. But they could exist tomorrow. And Nigeria has no law to say yes, no, or maybe to CRISPR.
We have learned how to edit DNA. But we have not yet learned how to govern it.
If we remain silent on CRISPR, the marketplace will decide what counts as a person, what traits are desirable, and who is worthy of enhancement. That is not a future guided by law. It is a future driven by power and privilege.
We may soon master the science of rewriting life. But the law we have refused to write may rewrite us first.
That must not be Nigeria’s future.
