By Kwaku Amoh-Darteh, ESQ.

The law is not always what we wish it to be, but it is what binds society. And for that reason, it demands clarity, discipline, and evidence, not noise, not sentiment, and certainly not personal attacks. In moments when public attention turns to the courtroom, legal professionals carry a solemn duty: to help the public understand not what went viral, but what happened in law.

Following the high-profile defamation case filed by investigative journalist Anas Aremeyaw Anas against Hon. Kennedy Agyapong in the United States District Court for the District of New Jersey, public discourse has been overwhelmed by headlines, speculation, and premature celebration. As a legal professional, I believe that this is precisely the time to offer grounded, nonpartisan clarity on what actually occurred and why it matters.

Kwaku Amoh-Darteh

Under New Jersey law, defamation is not merely the act of speaking negatively about someone. For such a claim to succeed, the plaintiff must prove that a false statement was made, that it was published to others, and that the plaintiff suffered measurable harm as a result. This harm, whether financial, reputational, emotional, or medical, must be backed by evidence. Courts in the U.S. do not award damages based on popularity, fame, or emotion. They rely on proof.

In a civil case like this, the burden of proof lies entirely on the plaintiff, in this case, Anas. He had to demonstrate, by a preponderance of the evidence, that Hon. Kennedy Agyapong’s statements were false and that they caused him tangible harm. Simply put, he had to show that it was more likely than not that defamation occurred and that it resulted in real damage.

He failed to meet that burden. That legal shortfall is what led the presiding judge to set aside the jury’s initial verdict because the jury failed to follow the court’s legal instructions. No judgment was entered into the record. Therefore, legally speaking, the case remains unresolved.

To understand the outcome, it’s critical to distinguish between the types of damages Anas sought. Actual damages cover measurable financial loss; lost income, lost contracts, documented expenses provable through receipts, bank records, and expert testimony. Compensatory damages include both actual damages and non-economic harm, such as emotional distress or reputational injury, but these, too, require credible evidence. Punitive damages are not about compensation but punishment, awarded only when actual harm is already proven.

The Latin maxim nemo dat quod non habet; you cannot give what you do not have, applies here. If actual harm is not proven, then compensatory and punitive damages cannot legally follow.

Because Anas failed to present sufficient proof of actual harm, he became ineligible for compensatory or punitive damages. The court was left to award only nominal damages, $500.00, acknowledging a technical wrong without any substantial injury.

Here lies the sobering truth: while Anas filed suit seeking millions in damages, he now faces the reality of substantial legal costs. These include attorney fees, filing expenses, discovery costs, expert witness fees, and travel. In the American legal system, these costs often run into six figures, and unless specified by the court, each party pays their own.

Since Anas did not win significant damages, he is unlikely to recover those costs. In contrast, Kennedy Agyapong, who did not countersue and made no financial claims, exits the case unscathed and financially unaffected.

So, who won?

If a plaintiff seeks millions and walks away with $500 and a mountain of legal bills, can that be called a victory? And if the defendant pays no damages and bears no penalty, is he not the practical victor?

These are the questions the public should be asking, not who made the loudest statement on social media or who had more airtime.

This is what the public needs, not personal insults, not political chest-beating. The law is not governed by public opinion. It is governed by procedure, evidence, and precedent.

In law, insults, insinuations, and vendettas have no place. The courtroom is not a theater for emotion or ego, but a forum for truth, reasoning, and justice.

It is deeply unprofessional and concerning when lawyers abandon the language of law to wade into the waters of propaganda. The courtroom is not a campaign stage. The law is not a weapon of personal or partisan warfare.

When legal practitioners reduce themselves to pundits and populists, they erode public trust in justice. In emotionally charged cases like this, the public turns to the Bar for clarity. Our duty is to speak the law, not to sensationalize it.

We must remind ourselves that litigation is not only about principle. It is about preparation, evidence, cost, and consequence.

Let us not cheer too quickly. Let us not condemn too soon. And above all, let us not forget that justice is not instant; it is deliberate.

As legal commentators and officers of the court, our highest calling is not to provoke, but to educate. The public looks to us not for slogans, but for sober truth.

And so, I end with this reflection:

To my esteemed colleague Sampson, I offer this solemn counsel:
Let your voice be anchored in the language of the law, measured, clear, and principled. Be not seduced by populist noise nor driven by partisan fervor. For though many Ghanaians may have come into this world under the cover of night, they were not born just last night. They know the difference between law and loudness. Let us honor their trust with integrity, not indulgence.