The word ‘gbajue’ is a Nigerian Southwestern regional idiolect and slang that references deception, trickery, con artistry, and cascading crookedness. In the dirty game of politics, Nigerians use it for a plethora of devious acts of politicians and their buddy-buddies they deem duplicitous, depraved, and deceptive. In our nation and with men in political power, the vice of corruption, lust and love for money has gained metastatic momentum. Every nook and cranny of our government is ‘gbajue’ in its full-blown cavalcade.
Over the last 15 years or so, I must have written hundreds of thousands of published words via varying outlets about greed, graft, and gluttony in the Nigerian crevices of government. But the more men and women of conscience write, the more the politics of ‘gbajue’ in public service grows a longer tail. And the more Nigerians with upbeat character shout down guileful and underhanded acts of politicians and their nabob cronies outside of the purlieu of power, the more we question the truth in the phraseology that Democracy is a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. My friends, we will continue to ask even if we don’t get an answer from people in government: Is Democracy in Nigeria ‘gbajue’ for all intents and purposes?
This week, I’m revved up to lend my vicarious voice to this trending stenchy story. It’s about a man, Prince Adeniyi Adeyemi, believed to be a defiant ‘conman’, his dead friend, Tanimola Babatunde, who was the facilitator of underhand and slimy activities, and a presidency in stout and strong denial of any complicity of the Chief of Staff to the President of the Giant of Africa. The ‘conman’ was alleged to have forged a presidential letter of appointment that named him as director-general of a cooked-up multi-billion Naira agency of government called the Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council (PFIPC). The forged appointment letter, which was written on a fake State House letterhead and falsified reference numbers, bore the forged signature of the President’s Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila. The ‘conman’ allegedly opened at the nation’s apex bank, the Central Bank of Nigeria and a fantasised monetary figure was burrowed into the Nigerian budget signed by the President and presented to the 2026 Appropriation Bill to NASS.
Although no kobo was paid out to the agency by the government, the fake agency was prepped up to receive about N1.3bn ($944,300) in the national budget. The funding was structured to cut across personnel, overhead and capital lines, including N182.5m for World Investment Summit logistics. A palatial office space was allocated to the agency at the Federal Secretariat office allocated at Phase III, 2nd Floor, Abuja. Adeyemi allegedly requested the deployment of five civil servants from the Office of the Accountant-General. His request was obliged. He then swung into presidential action, hosting foreign dignitaries in Abuja without the knowledge of the Foreign Affairs Ministry. The ministry was ticked off, triggering a petition to the NSA and the Chief of Staff, demanding clarification. Gbajabiamila’s office petitioned the DSS and police to investigate the move, claiming it was news to them that such an agency existed. Adeyemi was arrested and slammed in the calaboose for over a month. His accomplices took to their heels and were nowhere to be found till the time of this piece. Shortly after, Tanimola, the man Adeyemi told the police helped him procure the forged appointment letter, died in a fire accident at Kachi Hotel, Utako, Abuja. Tanimola was a Christian, and it was not the Holy Ghost fire that razed his hotel room. The Holy Ghost fire does not kill. It purifies. Some strange fire killed that young man. May his soul rest in peace. Last month, sensing that a whopping sum of N400m he paid as cushioning-cumshaw had gone down the drain, Adeyemi held a press conference accusing the Chief of Staff to our President of many dirty deals, including N400m paid to him through a proxy.
Readers, this is a sickening story. When a nation’s image is battered at home and abroad because of the activities of fraudsters in the veranda of power, it is disheartening. In the unfurling saga between Adeyemi and Gbajabiamila, someone inside the presidency must know about this big fraud that found its way onto the President’s desk. Who? At least for now, we don’t know until a competent court of jurisdiction hears the whole story. And that will be on July 27. The presidency is standing by his man, Gbajabiamila. The defence is stout, and the confidence in him is strong. And a denying presidency insists that Adeyemi is a serial con-artist. But something is not adding up here. Adeyemi has been sighted in many significant government events in Abuja. He was in a showing with legislative bigwigs, held a meeting with a Chinese investment delegation, posed with the EFCC Chairman in a visit, and 314 civil service staff members were ploughed into the fake agency to help do his fake work. Who and what gave him access to power? This is an inside job. Somebody somewhere connected to the presidency ought to know something. Are they not telling us? We just don’t know.
The President has directed the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission to conduct a thorough investigation into the activities of the fake agency and all related matters, and a comprehensive report should be submitted to him within 30 days.
From his corner, Gbajabiamila has given Prince Adeyemi 72 hours to withdraw what he described as false and defamatory allegations made against him or face civil and criminal action. He is also demanding a public apology, the removal of the alleged defamatory publications from all media platforms, and a written undertaking that no further allegations would be made against the Chief of Staff.
The 3rd President of the United States, Thomas Jefferson, once said, “The time to guard against corruption is before they shall have gotten hold on us. It is better to keep the wolf out of the fold, than to trust drawing his teeth and talons after he shall have entered.”
This story is a blotch on our nation. As we try to rebuild our image and character abroad, it is a disgraceful setback. How do sleazy characters find their way so close to the president? The saga is a test and stress test on our government institutions, the same way a virus tests your immune system. It also causes us to ask these questions:
Question of control: Are there checks on who can approve agencies, contracts, permits, or money in our government?
Question of transparency: Can the public see decisions and spending?
Question of accountability: Does anyone get punished if caught doing wrong?
Question of culture: In Nigeria, ‘everybody does it’ makes everyone do wrong. When government institutions fail these tests, public trust collapses. Has the people’s trust in elected officials and public servants collapsed yet in Nigeria?
X-@FolaOjotweet
