Tinubu’s directive is a necessary first step, but its value will be judged by the inquiry’s independence, scope, and outcomes, argues PAT ONUKWULI
Nigeria is familiar with scandal, but familiarity must not become surrender. It has seen oil subsidy fraud, pension theft, the Maina affair, and, more recently, the Humanitarian Affairs ministry was placed under anti-corruption scrutiny following Betta Edu’s suspension. Yet the current controversy surrounding the office of the Chief of Staff to the President poses a more delicate danger. It sits near the nerve centre of power and places a heavier burden on the Presidency itself.
At the heart of the matter is the alleged Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council, a body the Presidency says does not exist. Prince Adeniyi Adeyemi Matthew is accused by the Presidency of falsely presenting himself as its Director-General, forging appointment and approval documents, and operating what officials describe as a fraudulent structure centred on a fictitious government body. Reports further allege that he maintained 34 bank accounts linked to such entities and was arraigned before the Federal High Court in Abuja on charges of fraud and forgery.
The controversy has gained wider traction because Adeyemi was allegedly not operating in obscurity. Reports suggest that he had offices at the Federal Secretariat in Abuja, was associated with senior government figures, engaged with National Assembly leaders, had civil servants posted to the alleged office, and received foreign delegations under the guise of official authority. If established, these details would shift the matter from alleged impersonation to a disturbing question of institutional access, administrative vigilance, and how easily symbols of the state can be borrowed or abused.
Adeyemi has denied wrongdoing and accused the Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, of falsehood and corruption. He maintains that the controversy is not a one-person fiction but a deeper story of official proximity, alleged payments and disputed authority. That dispute must be tested by evidence, not emotion. If documents were forged, the law should say so. If public officials enabled or concealed any part of the scheme, the office must not serve as a shield.
President Bola Tinubu’s reported directive to the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission to investigate the alleged fake agency, with a 30-day deadline, is welcome. But it must not become a ceremonial response to a damaging headline. Its value lies not in the announcement, but in the independence, reach and consequences of the inquiry. It must establish not only whether documents were forged or an agency fabricated, but also whether negligence, internal collusion, or abuse of proximity gave the alleged structure the appearance of state authority.
That is the Presidency’s burden of trust. It is not merely to deny what it deems false, but to prove that the state can distinguish truth from theatre, authority from impersonation, and access from abuse. Government must not become a marketplace of seals, signatures and whispered proximity. It must prove that the house of power has doors, rules and consequences.
Such controversies wound the public psyche. They teach citizens to distrust the seal, doubt the signature, suspect the memo, and laugh bitterly at reform. A public burdened by inflation, insecurity, and sacrifice begins to see governance not as service but as a transaction; not as stewardship but as performance. The scandal then becomes larger than the accused: a referendum on governance itself.
The external cost is equally severe. Every controversy near the Presidency weakens Nigeria’s image among investors, diplomats, development partners and its diaspora. It suggests a state struggling to police its corridors, authenticate its documents and protect its institutions from impostors, intermediaries and insiders. It tells the world that procedure may be porous, proximity may outweigh the law, and influence may be passed to authority.
What is required now is a response that is measured, not muted; decisive, not reckless; transparent, not performative; and loyal to the Presidency without indulging those around it. The office must be protected from falsehood, but never used to shield misconduct. Due process must guide the inquiry, but it must not become a veil behind which uncomfortable truths are hidden. To defend the institution credibly, the Presidency must first dispel the shadows around it.
A credible investigation should establish whether access was misused, whether any official or intermediary solicited or received money, whether internal collaborators gave the appearance of authority, and whether negligence allowed a fictitious structure to appear legitimate. If the accuser lied, prosecution should follow. If insiders assisted him, exposure should follow. If senior figures are implicated, rank must not be a refuge. There must be no sacred cows, no privileged silences, no cosmetic probes, and no convenient ambiguities.
Adjectives, denials, and crafted statements will not restore the government’s image; only evidence, accountability, and consequences can. President Tinubu’s reported directive is a necessary first step, but its value will be judged by the inquiry’s independence, scope, and outcomes. Ultimately, this is a test of whether power can investigate power, whether proximity can submit to scrutiny, and whether Nigeria can choose cleansing over concealment, principle over protection, and public trust over private convenience.
Ultimately, the Presidency’s burden of trust will be lifted not by announcing a probe, but by proving that no door is beyond its reach.
Dr. Onukwuli is a legal scholar and public affairs analyst. [email protected]
