Imagine scrolling through your social media feed and seeing a video of a respected public figure saying something outrageous. Your heart pounds, your jaw drops, and in a moment of righteous anger or excitement, you hit share. Within hours the clip has travelled across the country, fuelling arguments at bus stops, family dinners and mosque or church gatherings. Later, it emerges that the voice was not real. The face was cloned. The words were engineered by a machine. This is the world we now live in, and it is precisely why Otunba Olusegun Runsewe, the former Director General of the National Council for Arts and Culture, has raised a strong and timely alarm. He warns that Artificial Intelligence, or AI, is not bad in itself; it is a powerful tool that can do tremendous good. But when it is used carelessly, especially on social media, it can become a weapon of deception. The danger is not the technology but how humans choose to use it. The same technology that can help a student learn, a doctor diagnose and a business grow can also be turned into a factory of lies, producing false images, fake voice recordings and fabricated stories designed to mislead, confuse and divide.
Runsewe’s message is not a rejection of progress. On the contrary, he acknowledges that AI is freely available and holds enormous potential to enhance communication, boost research, unleash creativity and solve difficult problems that have troubled humanity for generations. In responsible hands, AI can help us translate languages in seconds, draft complex reports, create art, assist in medical research and even predict natural disasters. It is like electricity: dangerous if mishandled, but indispensable when properly directed. The problem, he argues, is the unguided and irresponsible use of AI on social media platforms. Because these platforms are open, fast and largely unregulated, false content can spread faster than the truth. A single manipulated image can travel around Nigeria before any correction can catch up. A deeply convincing but entirely fake voice note can cause panic in a community, destroy a reputation, or sway a voter’s decision. The technology itself is neutral, but the outcomes are not. When lies are dressed in the guise of reality, they become particularly dangerous, because people are more likely to believe what they see and hear than to question it.
The human cost of AI-driven misinformation is not abstract. Runsewe points out that fake AI images and voices are capable of tearing families apart. Imagine a wife receiving a fabricated audio clip that appears to be her husband saying terrible things about her. Imagine children seeing a fake video of their father making a criminal confession. Even if the truth later emerges, the damage has already been done. Trust, once broken, is hard to restore. The same applies to social institutions. Religious leaders, traditional rulers, public officials and ordinary citizens are all vulnerable. A fake image of a religious leader making an inflammatory statement could spark inter-religious conflict. A manipulated video of an ethnic leader could ignite inter-ethnic violence. In a country as diverse as Nigeria, where tensions already simmer beneath the surface, such content is not merely annoying; it is a threat to peace and stability. Runsewe also warns that government itself can be discredited and destabilised by false content. Political opponents or malicious actors can use AI to create fake speeches, fake policy announcements or fake scandals, leaving the public confused and distrustful. When people no longer know what to believe, they stop believing in anything. This erosion of trust is one of the most dangerous consequences of unregulated AI use.
Education is another battlefield where the impact of AI is being felt deeply. Runsewe expresses concern about students in higher institutions who are increasingly depending on AI for assignments, research and even final projects. What was once considered a tool for assistance has become a substitute for thinking. Students can now generate an essay in seconds without reading a single book. They can produce a research paper without understanding the subject. They can complete assignments that look polished but contain no original thought. The result is a rise in plagiarism, intellectual laziness and a lack of creativity. Worse still, these habits produce graduates who leave school without the knowledge and skills they need to contribute meaningfully to society. They may hold certificates, but they lack the ability to reason, analyse and solve problems. Runsewe’s warning here is not against technology itself, but against the way it is being embraced without critical thought. AI should be used as a mentor, not a replacement. It should help students ask better questions, not give them ready-made answers. The classroom must remain a place where curiosity, hard work and intellectual discipline are cultivated. If we allow machines to think for us, we will soon lose the very abilities that make us human.
As Nigeria looks towards the 2027 general election, this issue becomes even more urgent. Elections are already moments of high emotion, deep suspicion and intense competition. They are also periods when misinformation thrives. Runsewe cautions against AI-generated content deliberately designed to heat up the polity and create social tension. In the months and years ahead, we can expect to see fake videos of candidates saying hateful things, manipulated images of election officials rigging ballots and fabricated audio clips designed to smear honest men and women. Unless citizens and institutions are prepared, these lies could influence the outcome of elections, not because they are true, but because they are convincing. Runsewe therefore calls on stakeholders in the electoral process to develop proactive and effective information dissemination strategies. The media, electoral bodies, political parties, civil society groups and community leaders must work together to counter fake narratives before they take root. He also advocates a stronger role for conventional media outlets, which remain more trusted and more accountable than anonymous social media posts. When relevant and credible information is shared promptly through newspapers, radio and television, rumours and fake news have less room to flourish.
Ultimately, the responsibility also falls on each of us. Runsewe’s advice is simple: scrutinise every piece of information from social media and cross-check with relevant government agencies rather than swallowing it hook, line and sinker. This is the core of digital citizenship in the age of AI. Before we share a post, we must pause and ask ourselves: who created this? Is it from a credible source? Does it make sense? Have I seen it confirmed anywhere else? The answers may not always come easily, but the habit of scepticism is essential. AI is an innovative technology, but in a society where citizens consume social media content without proper scrutiny, it can become counterproductive. It can flood our lives with lies, divide our communities and weaken our democracy. But it does not have to be this way. We can choose to use AI responsibly, to educate ourselves about its dangers and to guard against its misuse. We can teach our children to question what they see. We can support journalists and institutions that uphold truth. We can refuse to become vehicles for the spread of harmful content. In doing so, we honour not only ourselves but also the social fabric that holds us together. The future will be shaped by technology, but it will be defined by our wisdom. Let us not surrender that wisdom to machines. Let us embrace AI with open eyes, cautious hearts and a firm commitment to truth.