The dangers of misreported news

BY HUSSEIN ADOTO

A recently published news report about DNA paternity tests in Nigeria has sparked widespread discussion. But while headlines have claimed that “25% of paternity tests in Nigeria reveal non-biological fathers” and “25% of Nigerian men are not biological fathers of their children”, they are based on a fundamental misinterpretation of the data.

The reports were on data from a single Nigerian laboratory, SmartDNA, which tested parents seeking foreign citizenship between July and June 2025, and found that “paternity exclusion rate remains at 25 per cent.” The reports didn’t feature a copy of the report for independent review.

The paternity exclusion rate is the probability that a paternity test will correctly identify a man as not being the biological father of a child. If the PER is 25%, then it’s correct to suggest that 1 out of 4 men who did their test with SmartDNA are NOT the father of their children.

But it is sensational for the headlines to claim that “25% of paternity tests in Nigeria” when the data came from a single, private laboratory; or to say “25% of Nigerian men” when only a portion of Nigerian men did paternity tests, or did the test at SmartDNA laboratories.

Although the reports went on to detail the data, the headlines and framing had already taken on a life of their own, leaving readers with the false impression that one in four Nigerian men is not the biological fathers of their children. That’s a dangerous impression to have.

The data is NOT representative of the entire country. Generalising the results in this way is more than a simple oversight; it is a dangerous example of how misreported facts can create unnecessary fear, project dangerous narratives, and undermine trust in science itself.

The only generally “Nigerian” aspect of the report is that the lab is located in Lagos and the subjects are Nigerians. So the headline can accurately say, “1 in 4 paternity cases in a Nigerian lab showed non-biological fathers.”

Generalising the report to cover “Nigerian men” as a whole is inaccurate and misleading for two key reasons. One, the report is not representative of Nigerian men. For it to be, a critical number of Nigerian men would have to be selected at random from different zones, religions, and cultures, and their DNA screened. Then, we could generalise the result to the entire population. The reports do not suggest that Smart DNA did that.

A single private lab report is not the same as a large, nationally representative study you’d expect from institutions like the Nigerian Bureau of Statistics (NBS) or in reports like the Nigerian Demographic Health Survey.

Two, the report captured a high-risk population. The typical Nigerian father would not doubt the paternity of their children. Those who do are the most likely to go for a paternity test. They belong to a high-risk population where there are already risk factors for paternity fraud, such as infidelity and disputes, or for immigration purposes. Their results are not representative of the millions of Nigerian families who never undergo such testing.

Let’s look at this differently. Say you want to screen for the prevalence of sexually transmitted infections in Nigeria. It would be inappropriate to sample only high-risk populations like commercial sex workers and drivers and then project the result onto other Nigerians who are not as exposed. That sampling bias restricts the interpretation of the results.

In any case, the report was narrated without adding key context about how it should be interpreted and what its limitations are. I have already highlighted the sampling bias and the high-risk population. There’s also the issue of the adequacy of the sample, which was not well explained.

The report is a news item, not public relations. That suggests that reporters should validate the claims and provide adequate context. Many of the reports didn’t do that. They relied on a single source for the results and humanised it with quotes from the CEO. No expert commentary was added, which is problematic.

News reports are not just the “first draft of history”; they also set the agenda and shape public opinion. Paternity is a sensitive issue tied to family trust, stigma, and gender relations. Reporting on paternity without situating the report in the right context can create unnecessary fear or mistrust within families.

We’ve already seen instances of such misleading headlines exaggerating the facts and creating the wrong impressions about the country. In 2018/19, media reports were awash with headlines that 77% of Nigerian women bleach their skin. International magazines like Vogue, The Guardian, and BBC featured that data in their stories. From newspapers, the data entered our journals. “77% of Nigerian women bleach their skin” became a fact.

Some attributed the data to a WHO report, which is no longer available on their website. A reasonable conclusion is that the reports are a wrong interpretation of a survey on the use of skin-lightening cosmetics among traders in Lagos. The study done in Lagos in 2002, and the results suggested that 77% of respondents used bleaching products.

The author told Africa Check later, in 2019, that her “study was conducted among traders in Lagos. Hence, the right interpretation of the prevalence of skin lightening cream of 77% should be limited to the traders and not generalised to all Nigerians.” Still, many news reports and journal articles continue to carry the erroneous claim that 77% of Nigerian women bleach their skin.

Taking this example alongside the recent misrepresentation of DNA test results, we see a troubling pattern: numbers are lifted out of context and turned into sweeping national claims. Once published, these claims are difficult to correct. They gain traction internationally, enter academic literature, and shape how Nigeria is perceived at home and abroad.

We cannot continue like that. Good science journalism is already difficult in the face of anti-science advocacy, misinformation, and disinformation. Misreporting scientific data complicates the situation even further. It reinforces errors, validates stereotypes, creates social mistrust, and undermines scientific credibility. That’s a dangerous combination.

We must rewrite the narratives, first by understanding the science and the data, and then by finding the correct language to represent it. Our journalists and commentators must hold themselves to a higher standard of evidence-based reporting and analysis so that their words can truly inform rather than misrepresent what should be a simple scientific reality.

Hussein Adoto is a Nigerian journalist and award-winning essayist published in The Punch, TheCable, Daily Trust, Punocracy, BellaNaija, and The Guardian Nigeria. With a background in microbiology and medicine, he writes on health, science, education, and society. He writes via [email protected].