Tonia is a businesswoman, a safety and first-aid officer at an oil-servicing company, and a passionate Nigerian citizen. In March 2023, during the state governorship elections, this passion was put on centre stage when police officers invaded her polling unit to hijack ballot boxes. Tonia caught the entire event on camera. This is Tonia鈥檚 story, as told to Tezor Dedam.

It all started in March 2023, at the polling unit situated at Holy Family Catholic Church, Woji, Port Harcourt, during the governorship election. On that fateful day, we had all cast our votes, and it was time for counting. Suddenly, we saw a Hilux and a Sienna pull up, driving quickly right into the compound and parking directly in front of us.

At the time, we were already hearing reports that other polling units were being attacked by unknown people, so seeing them appear out of nowhere made evryone tensed. Some people stood far away, and some were close by. I was among those who stood around. Their arrival was abrupt, but I noticed the workers (INEC officials) did not run; they stood their ground.

That was when I immediately turned on my video and started recording. I just held my phone close to my chest, so no one would really know that I was making a video. In that moment, one of the men who had arrived then started instructing them,

鈥淐arry the box!鈥�

鈥淭hey should take everything and move, take it into the car!鈥�

Then people started to lightly protest, asking 鈥淲here are you taking our boxes to?鈥�

Throughout all of this, I was still recording. One of the police men then walked past me and noticed I was making a video. He walked past the first time, then he walked past again and grabbed my phone.

Meanwhile, I could see that the Sienna was still parked there, filled with young men who didnt look like police officers but had come with them. After the officer grabbed my phone, I started shouting, 鈥淕ive me my phone, give me my phone!鈥� I followed them and kept shouting.听

When people saw that I was unafraid and making a stand, they joined in: 鈥淕ive her her phone!鈥� I think that overwhelmed the officer; he didn鈥檛 see that coming. And God so kind, the video was still on, and I then dragged my phone from him. 

He entered the vehicle with the polling boxes and one of the men from the accompanying Sienna came from behind and pointed at me, saying, 鈥淵ou, I will kill you鈥�. He repeated this a few more times. He then got into the Sienna as they drove off with the police.

I remember saying to myself that I had their plate number. And that was how they left with their boxes. Fortunately, people started coming back to ask for the video and sharing it on social media. Over the next few days, I had gotten calls and messages from people saying that they had seen my video and heard my voice. I started seeing it get reposted on major channels and on media stories, that was pretty much how that unfortunate incident made me go viral.

What killed them?

The NSCDC’s Niger State Commandant, Suberu Siyaka Aniviye, said the deaths were by a suspected disease outbreak, with the suspected disease being diphtheria.听The Minister of Interior, Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo, has since Commandant Aniviye pending the outcome of the investigation.听

Niger State Governor, Umar Bago, who the death toll at 37 during a Thursday press conference in Minna, however, said the cause of death hadn’t been officially established, and it was too early to draw conclusions. 

Bago disclosed that investigators were examining several possible causes, including exposure to hazardous chemicals. Meanwhile, an AFP intelligence report overcrowding and poor ventilation inside the detention facility may be the reason for the deaths.

A filmed during the Minister of Interior, Olubunmi Tunji-Ojo’s, visit to some of the survivors has added another layer to the dispute. In it, one survivor says: “They sprayed something in the cell after putting us inside, and people started falling down.”

The clip has circulated widely on social media, with other survivor accounts say that around 65 to 66 people were packed into a small cell.

VIDEO: They sprayed something in the cell after putting us inside, and people started falling down.'

– One of the survivors of the NSCDC horror cell in Niger states

— Rinu Oduala (@SavvyRinu)

Families of the deceased are not buying the disease explantion and are questioning how a sudden infection could kill dozens of healthy youths in a single night while leaving facility guards untouched. The bodies have been to the General Hospital, Minna, for autopsy.

Who鈥檚 telling the truth?

The NSCDC’s Commandant General, Professor Ahmed Abubakar Audi, has an internal panel, led by the Deputy Commandant General for Intelligence and Investigation, to examine the arrests, detention conditions, medical care provided, and the circumstances of the deaths. 

Separately, the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) has opened its own , with its spokesman Wasiu Abiodun confirming this on Thursday, September 17.

What are people saying?

The deaths have protests in Niger State, with families and residents gathering at Minna General Hospital and demanding answers. Some protesters are calling for criminal charges if negligence is confirmed.

The bigger picture

Niger State is in gold and attracts thousands of small-scale miners, many of whom are from poor communities. Security agencies have stepped up on illegal mining sites in recent years, arguing the informal trade is smuggling and armed criminal activity. 

A 2024 found much of the region’s gold moves through global supply chains largely untracked, which is part of why crackdowns like this one keep happening.

We need answers

As of the time of this report, we don’t know the actual cause of death, and that shouldn’t take long to establish. Both investigations need to conclude quickly, and whoever’s responsible needs to be held accountable for their actions or inactions.

In 2008, Collins moved to Malaysia at 19 years old. For the next 12 years, he lived in Malaysia, the Maldives, and Singapore. For most of his stay in Asia, his girlfriend鈥檚 father鈥檚 company had been sponsoring his visa. In 2020, he returned to visit his family in Port Harcourt. During this time, he had a fallout with his girlfriend, and over the next few weeks, she had his visa cancelled.

Later that year, he made a friend through his younger brother. This friend, a travel agent, had assured Collins that he could help him get a job in Europe, since the agent had lived and worked in Cyprus.

鈥淚 trusted him, and I gave him 鈧�2 million to get me a job鈥�

A month later, the agent called Collins with news of a job in Norway. He sent the job agreement, which Collins took to Abuja to further the process. At the end of this process, he spent an additional total of 鈧�4.38 million on biometrics, authentication of results, verification of bank statements, work permits, domestic flight tickets, etc. 

A few weeks later, he got an email from the Royal Norwegian Embassy in Abuja, stating that he had been banned from entering Europe for the next five years for forging a job agreement. He tried to reach out to the agent, who was back in Cyprus, but to no avail.

According to the Nigerian Immigration Service (NIS), between 2022 and 2023. This represents a growing number of people like Collins who have successfully relocated in the past. But it also represents a wider group of people, like Collins, who are still trying to leave Nigeria. That鈥檚 a wide pool of people who can get scammed. So we did the hard work for you. Here is where to get help if you have been scammed by a travel or 鈥渏apa鈥� agent.

Alert your bank, ASAP

You may sense you鈥檝e been scammed in an instant, or it may slowly dawn on you. Either way, the moment everywhere starts to blur, contact your bank. Give them all the details: the amount, transaction date, recipient bank details, etc. You should probably also provide evidence of your communication with them. If the bank is too slow, contact the  after a few days. The bank can freeze the said account if you act promptly and with enough evidence.

National Association of Nigerian Travel Agencies (NANTA)

The National Association of Nigerian Travel Agencies (NANTA) oversees travel agents and tour operators in Nigeria. You should have checked with them to verify your agent, but it鈥檚 probably too late at this point, so you should to them. NANTA can use unspecified measures to sanction the agent. But if they are not a NANTA member, then this will not help much.

Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC)

The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) has an , an app, and an email address where you can contact them. Be prepared to apply more pressure and visit their offices in this case, because responses can be slow. You should also document all correspondence with the EFCC for evidence if you have to escalate the matter beyond them

Federal Competition and Consumer Protection Commission (FCCPC)

The FCCPC is typically used for consumer protection and can be overlooked in this case. But if the scammer used a registered agency that provides goods and services to consumers as a cover-up, the FCCPC has enforcement power to order refunds and escalate the matter further. Being that it serves as the apex consumer protection and anti-trust authority with a broad mandate across commercial sectors. You can reach them for free at or by email at contact@fccpc.gov.ng. 

Report in the person鈥檚 country – if they are abroad

If the scammer is abroad, you can also find the agencies responsible for fraud and scams in the respective countries. In the US, the FBI’s IC3 () takes reports. If they are in the UK, is the way to go. If they are in Canada, the is the responsible agency. If you can do this concurrently with filing complaints here in Nigeria, it could have a much stronger chance.

One of the saddest things about japa scams is that they prey on the simple desire for a better life. This better life is worth chasing; it just shouldn’t cost you everything.

Raimot (30) had always wanted to study abroad. So, when the opportunity presented itself, she jumped at it and said goodbye to Nigeria. In the midst of adjusting to a new life and settling down, she experienced a mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Where do you live at the moment, and when did you leave Nigeria?

I’m currently in Italy, and I left Nigeria in October 2022.

Why did you move to Italy?

I relocated because I got a scholarship to study. 

Was that your plan all along?

Yes, when I was at university in Nigeria, I knew if I was going to get a master’s degree, it wouldn’t be in Nigeria. I had been trying to study abroad since around 2017 or 2018. Initially, Italy wasn’t even part of the plan. It was all about the US. One of my biggest priorities was securing full funding. I started applying to US universities around 2018, and in 2020, I finally got an adviser. For people in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Maths (STEM) and research fields like mine, you often need an adviser who can support or fund your research.

So what happened?

Everything seemed to be going well. The professor told me I could apply by around July, but then COVID-19 happened. After that, I stopped hearing from him.

To be honest, I still don’t know what happened to him because he used to be very responsive. I even checked his website, but there was no updated information. At some point, I just thought, Maybe we lost him. So, I moved on.

Then one day, I was scrolling online and came across the . I checked the requirements and immediately noticed that they had scholarships. By then, I’d been applying for years, so I understood the process a bit better. I looked at everything and thought, It looks like I have a better chance here. Let me shoot my shot.

The application opened in November, and I submitted mine in the first week because I was already prepared. I just had to edit a few documents.

Twenty-four hours later, I got an email saying my application had passed the first evaluation stage. I was happy, but I had been through this process before, so I knew that wasn’t the main issue. The biggest thing was funding.

What happened after you passed the evaluation stage?

The scholarship list was supposed to come out in March, so we waited and waited. I remember the day the results came out. I was at work and just praying, God, I beg. The information was that successful applicants would get an email, and the list would also be published online.

So I kept refreshing my email. Then, around noon, I saw an email pop up. I was in the cold room at work, and the moment I saw the highlight, I hadn’t even opened the email yet, I screamed. That was what changed everything for me. Honestly, that was the beginning of Italy.

What was your family’s reaction to the news? 

My family knew about the process, so they were very excited that I would be leaving because it鈥檚 something I鈥檝e always wanted.

How did you fund your travel and living expenses in Italy as a student?

I was awarded the Padova International Excellence Scholarship, which funded my studies and living expenses in Italy at the time. 

Did anything impress you when you finally arrived in Italy?

To be fair, I don’t think I was impressed when I first arrived. I came during winter, and everything was strange. It was also my first international flight, so I was just taking everything in.

Really? So, when did your first big impression happen?

The first time I actually thought, 鈥淥h, wow, I think I like this place鈥�, was when I started classes. I found out that, depending on the university, you could rewrite an exam up to three times. And not just because you failed. If you got a score you weren’t comfortable with, you could choose to rewrite the exam.

So, if the grading was over 30, maybe you got 20 and wanted 28 instead. You could reject the score and try again. I’m someone who really loves excellence in everything I do, so when I heard that, I was like, Wow. This is good. It gave me the feeling that I could pursue the level of excellence I actually wanted from my degree. 

What course did you study at Padova?

I studied Marine Biology and specialised in aquaculture production and management 

The Big Daily is your weekday shortcut to the biggest news shaping Nigeria. We cut through the noise, connect the dots, and explain why the news actually matters, all in one quick read.

Outside the classroom, what was your first real struggle with life in Italy?

The language barrier. Italy isn’t an English-speaking country. Though my programme was taught in English, and my professors spoke English to us, the community itself wasn’t English-speaking.

It was very difficult and frustrating to communicate. Even with a translator, it wasn’t always easy. Sometimes, someone would literally tell you, 鈥淚’m sorry, I don’t speak English,鈥� in English. 

Why do you think this is?

It was obvious. They weren’t interested in communicating in English. It was either Italian or they wouldn’t speak with you at all. That was probably the biggest challenge I faced when I first arrived.

How did you navigate this challenge of language?

I am so poor at learning the language. I tried registering for an Italian class and using Duolingo, but most of the time, it’s the Google Translate app to the rescue.

Sounds like a culture shock. Were there any others you experienced?

Yes, one would be paying for nylon bags to pack their groceries. They also value family time. Italians have a particular lunchtime everywhere, both in corporate environments and local communities. By 1鈥�2 p.m., everywhere will be closed, including pharmacies. I’ve had that experience a couple of times when I needed to buy something. I’d forget they’d be closed and already walk for minutes, or even take a bus, before I realised it. So, I had to wait until they reopened their shops.

I actually like that culture. Some people can even be inside their shops during lunchtime, but they won’t attend to anyone. Some may go home to their families for a meal and then come back to their shops.

How did you sustain yourself after graduating?

I didn’t get a job immediately after graduating. One good thing about Italy, though, is that you get a one-year post-study period to look for a job. During that period, you can legally remain in the country while figuring things out.

Another thing is that the job doesn’t necessarily have to be in your field. As long as you get a job that gives you a contract, you can use it to apply for a work permit.

At first, I was looking for research assistant roles and other opportunities in my field, but I couldn’t find any. It was challenging.

So I had to go back to the odd jobs I used to do. I worked in a supermarket, helping with stock arranging and all. I did that for months before I eventually got my current job in my field.

What do you currently do in Italy?

I work as an aquaculture technician. The job is to care for aquatic species and ensure they grow well in their habitats. 

Would that be your advice for any Nigerian abroad struggling to get a job in their field of study?

Sometimes, you have to survive first before you find the career you actually want. You can’t always insist that it has to be your field. Bills have to be paid. You have to eat. You have to be okay.

Who or what helped you survive emotionally during that period of job scarcity?

One thing I always say is that going abroad isn’t a journey you should do alone. You need good people around you. You need people with similar interests and people you can confide in.

I have colleagues here who have become more than colleagues. We share opportunities and support each other. And back home, I have a very strong community of friends. Honestly, my friends can lay down their lives for me.

So during that period when I was trying to transition into the career I actually wanted, that’s how I survived. Financially, I took the jobs that were available. Emotionally, I had support both in Italy and back home.

Was there anything about the Italian system that made you think, 鈥淎h, Nigeria could actually emulate this鈥�?

For me, it was the willingness of professors to help students. I’m not saying every professor is perfect. I don’t expect everyone to like me, just as I don’t like everybody. But I believe that if you’re in a room of 100 people and 80 of them are willing to help you, you focus on the 80.

In my experience, most of my professors were willing and ready to help, especially if you showed up, participated in class and made an effort. You didn’t always have to know somebody or pay somebody before you could get support.

What’s one experience that gave you this impression?

One of the best examples was when I was looking for an internship. I’d planned most of my journey from the beginning, and I knew I didn’t want to do my internship in Italy. I wanted to explore another part of Europe.

I was applying through LinkedIn and other platforms, but nothing was working. It was always, 鈥淯nfortunately鈥︹��. Then one day, I decided to speak to one of my professors. I liked his course and participated actively in his classes, so I felt comfortable approaching him.

I told him I wanted to do my internship outside Italy. He started mentioning Spain and Portugal, but I said, 鈥淧rofessor, I love Europe, but maybe Germany, Canada or the Netherlands?鈥� I wanted to explore places with stronger economies. He said he’d look into it. 

What then happened?

Two or three days later, he sent me an email saying one of his colleagues had reached out because they needed an intern in Germany. He asked if I was interested.

I was like, 鈥淎h! I love Germany!鈥� He simply forwarded me the person’s email and asked me to send my CV and application. There wasn’t even a formal application process like that. They needed someone, reached out through their network and found someone through a recommendation. That’s how I got my internship in Germany.

And that taught me something important about the European job market. Sometimes, your grades and skills aren’t enough. Recommendations and relationships can open doors, too.

That’s why I always advise people not to just go to class, say hello, and go home. Build genuine relationships because those relationships can help you long after you finish studying.

When life gets overwhelming, what do you do to unwind?

I love videos and pictures. If I’m overwhelmed, I make myself happy by dressing up, visiting places, taking pictures and making videos. The memories make me happy.

Hmm, sounds nice. Italy is popular for romance. Any gist for the timeline?

No gist oo. I  got married two months before my relocation. So, there’s no space for any relationship that is strictly not business or just a casual friendship.

Nigerians abroad usually say they encounter racism. Can we say you’re an exception?

No, I’ve actually experienced racism a couple of times, actually.

Could you share one?

The first one I can’t forget happened with a bus driver. I had an exam that morning, and my school was about an hour away, so I had to leave early.

It was winter. I got to the bus station and waited for the bus. I was the only person at the bus stop at the time. When the bus came, I waved it down. But instead of stopping, the driver just drove past me.

I cried that day. And it wasn’t because I was going to miss an exam. It was because the driver didn’t see me as important enough to drive me. Another bus came about 30 minutes later, and I got on it. Thankfully, I’m a 鈥渨hat if 鈥� person, and that’s why I left my house very early. Otherwise, I’d have missed that exam.

How did that make you feel?

What hurt was that I’d already been standing outside in the cold for about 45 minutes. I had my jacket and gloves on, but I was already freezing. Then the bus finally came, and the driver just left me there.

I stood there crying and asking myself, What is the meaning of this? To me, there was only one reason he did it: I was Black and the only person at the bus stop. That experience has stayed with me since. There’s another one that was as heavy as that.

That’s a lot. And you said there was another experience?

Yes. This one happened in an academic setting, and I feel like people don’t talk about this type of racism enough. There was a professor whose course was closely related to an area I was very interested in. I actively participated in her classes, and at one point I thought she could be a good supervisor for my project.

So I reached out to her by email, which is the normal process. But she wouldn’t respond. Even if she replied today, the next reply could come weeks later. I kept wondering what was happening.

Then I was talking to another international student who mentioned that they had found a supervisor. I asked who it was, and when they mentioned the same professor, I realised they had sent an email just the day before, and she had already responded positively.

I’d sent my own email weeks earlier. I thought, 鈥淥kay, maybe she didn’t see it鈥�. So I sent a follow-up to my last email, but she didn’t respond. I sent another one, still no response. I sent the third one. I didn’t get any response. That was when I stopped reaching out. But I thought she could have just said no. Meanwhile, I used to notice a certain attitude with her during classes. I was pained because she could have just responded.

Sorry about that. So, how do you navigate dealing with racist people and places that may not be too comfortable for you?

Racism is everywhere. I just focus on the good ones. There are days their actions make me question why I am there but then, some of them have been so nice and kind to me when they don鈥檛 have to.

Is there any plan to come back to Nigeria?

Yes. I’ve lived here for a while, but I’m not an abroad person. I’m a proper Yoruba. I like going out and parties. Sometimes, I feel like life is short here. If you don’t make time for fun stuff, you’ll realise you’re just working and working.

It might sound strange to people, but I might come back after weighing my long-term options. However, I have to be strategic about it.

What’s one thing you’d want any Nigerians thinking of coming to Italy to know?

Bureaucracy is very real here. Many things take a long time. And to find good jobs in Italy and progress in any career, you cannot joke with the language. You must learn Italian. Otherwise, you may not get a job at all, or you may end up with a job you can’t survive on.

How would you rate your experience in Italy on a scale of one to ten?

I’d say 7.5. Italy is treating me well to a large extent. So, I give them their flowers. 

Central to the policies and strategies unveiled is the idea of a technology-driven government that delivers services digitally from the start, where data drives decisions, and citizens can interact with public institutions as easily as they use their phones. The Digital Government Policy Framework (DGPF), an ambitious blueprint launched in 2020 for a smarter, more responsive state, outlines this vision across six pillars, with initiatives like Digital by Design and Proactive Governance. However, ambition alone doesn鈥檛 build systems; it requires execution.

In theory, Digital by Design operates on the philosophy that government services should be created with technology at their core. In practice, progress has been slowed by fragmented regulations and uneven capacity across states. While some parts of the country are moving forward, others are playing catch-up, leading to a fragmented system instead of the unified digital experience that these innovations are meant to achieve. 

A similar pattern is evident in the push for a data-driven public sector. There are indeed signs that the Nigerian government is beginning to take data governance more seriously. For example, in trying to achieve a geo-political system of equity and inclusion, all 36 states were reached through the Build-A-thon programme, with learning communities set up that focused on youths and female groups. But what鈥檚 missing is consistent, disaggregated data that reflects differences across factors like gender, geography, and income levels. Without this level of detail, policies run the risk of missing the people who need them most, and data can not be effectively used to create inclusive solutions. 

The same pattern appears in Government as a Platform鈥檚 vision, which envisions an interconnected, efficient, and accessible public service. While infrastructure investments like the installation of 145,000km of fibre optic cable, which was laid, suggest that the foundation is being built, only 27% of rural LGAs are connected against a target of 60%, making the experience of navigating them still feel disjointed. The promise of seamless digital governance has yet to materialise.

Perhaps more telling is the lingering gap between openness and transparency. While the government has made efforts to engage citizens through consultations, signalling a willingness to be more transparent, limited visibility into program performance makes it difficult to assess how policies are actually working. This disconnect becomes even clearer in user-driven governance. In principle, citizens should help shape the services they use; in practice, feedback channels are often weak or inaccessible, particularly for rural areas or underserved communities. 

On the brighter side, Nigeria appears to have made real progress in building its digital backbone with broadband infrastructure expansion and continued growth in the telecommunications ecosystem. However, only about 27 percent of local governments have reliable connectivity compared to their urban counterparts. This means that for millions of Nigerians, the digital economy still feels out of reach, a divide with real consequences.

Beyond infrastructure, a deeper structural challenge is coordination. Nigeria has a deep-seated challenge of aligning efforts across different agencies working toward similar goals. Policies are developed and launched in isolation, creating a system that moves while being pulled in different directions. The startup ecosystem, for example, boasts over 12,000 registered startups and billions in investment, but still lacks stronger institutional support, which means this growth may be difficult to sustain.

Yiaga Africa鈥檚 assessment report on President Tinubu鈥檚 Renewed Hope Agenda, legal and regulatory framework is described as transitional, with important tools like the National AI Strategy and the Digital Economy Bill still in development and facing delays in enforcement. The Federal Ministry of Communications, Innovation, and Digital Economy (FMoCIDE) has demonstrated leadership, but execution is uneven as a result of poor interagency cooperation and limited connections in local governments. According to the policy assessment brief facilitated by Yiaga Africa, more than 12,000 registered firms and 鈧�21 billion in investments raised in 2025, the Startup Ecosystem is referred to as emerging but is not institutionalised and threatened by issues including poor budgetary integration and sluggish tax incentive disbursement.

Similarly, the national Build-A-Thon STEM effort emphasises the importance of human capital development; nonetheless, inclusion mechanisms remain inadequate, particularly for rural areas, gender-specific data, and disability inclusion. Only 7.7% of young people with training are employed in northern states due to a lack of investments in digital infrastructure. 

The path forward is one where rural connectivity must be improved through reforms like reducing right-of-way costs and investing in alternative power solutions. Policies like the Digital Economy Bill must move from draft to implementation, and coordination across different local governments must become more deliberate and unified. Ultimately, progress must be measured not just by policies announced, but by outcomes experienced by everyday Nigerians.

Read more on the #Fulfillit campaign by Yiaga Africa here

If his political career still doesn鈥檛 ring a bell, during the #EndSARS protests in 2020, he was also accused of tagging Nigerians using social media as 鈥�,” It was during this time that he pushed for the censorship of social media. An allegation he .听

And if this still doesn’t ring a bell, then there is another chance to catch up because the new gist is that brother Elliot has found himself in the news for another dramatic reason.

On Sunday, September 14, 2026, Desmond Elliot was filmed before Femi Gbajabiamila, the Chief of Staff to President Bola Tinubu, and apologising for his remarks during the of the All Progressives Congress (APC) in the state. This may be a sign that personal loyalty has become entangled with political survival in Nigeria.

• Elliot on his knees/ Photo: Vanguard

What happened?

Elliot apologised to Gbajabiamila over the disagreement that followed the recent APC primary for Surulere Constituency I. He said he was sorry, had no excuse for his actions, and hoped he would be 鈥渃ultured鈥� in the future. He also appealed for forgiveness and reintegration into the Lagos APC political structure.听

The incident followed a dispute over the APC primary, which saw Elliot the party’s ticket to Barakat Odunuga-Bakare. Elliot had initially the process before eventually accepting the outcome and apologising to Gbajabiamila.

Before then, he had also come out to some powerful elements in the party were intimidating his supporters ahead of the primaries, while the same powerful deciders had withdrawn his security team. 

There is nothing wrong with apologising after a political disagreement. Politicians, like everyone else, can make mistakes, offend people and attempt to repair relationships. What’s concerning is that such an attempt shows how access to power is often tied to obedience to powerful individuals.

When political relationships equal political ownership

This Elliot issue and a few others suggest that in Nigeria, politicians can spend years building political careers around the support of a godfather, party leader, or influential political family. Once that relationship becomes strained, their position in politics can become weak, regardless of how many citizens voted for them.

That culture has been around for decades, and Lagos has provided some of its clearest examples.

Akinwunmi Ambode became Lagos governor in 2015 after he was anointed as the by Tinubu. By 2018, however, his relationship with influential figures within the Lagos APC structure had . He eventually lost the party’s governorship primary to Babajide Sanwo-Olu, ending his attempt to secure a second term.

The episode became one of the country’s most prominent examples of the influence political godfathers can have over the careers of elected officials.

Academic research on Nigerian godfatherism has also identified the Ambode-Tinubu relationship as a notable case of how powerful political actors can influence who gets a party ticket and who does not.

The same pattern appeared in Edo State. Godwin Obaseki became governor of Edo State in 2016 with the of Adam’s Oshiomhole, his predecessor and a major figure in Edo politics and the APC.

Their relationship later . By 2020, Obaseki was fighting to secure the APC’s ticket for a second term while Oshiomhole was the party’s national chairman. Obaseki was eventually from the APC primary process over issues relating to his credentials. He left the party, the PDP, and went on to win the governorship election against the APC candidate, Osagie Ize-Iyamu.

There is an interesting irony in all of this. Nigerian politicians themselves understand how damaging this culture can become.

On May 31 2025, Senate President Godswill Akpabio governors not to choose successors simply because those politicians were submissive to them. He specifically warned against selecting people who 鈥渒neel鈥� before them, arguing that governors should instead look for people with the capacity and vision to govern.

That warning gets to the heart of the problem because a politician who is selected primarily because they are obedient to the person who selected them may eventually have difficulty separating personal loyalty from public responsibility. 

The people lose when politicians cannot stand independently

Political slavery might look like an internal party matter when it happens between politicians, but its consequences eventually reach ordinary Nigerians.

When politicians spend considerable energy maintaining relationships with godfathers and political patrons, public office can become less about delivering on a mandate and more about preserving political relevance. A lawmaker may hesitate to oppose a powerful party figure. A governor may avoid confronting an influential political ally. A prospective candidate may accept a weak party primary because challenging the process could mean losing access to the political structure that determines their future. See the case of our brother, Elliot. 

All of these instances create a strange situation in which voters elect politicians, but powerful individuals sitting in one corner of their room can determine whether those elected politicians are allowed to continue.

It also affects the quality of people who enter politics. If obedience is rewarded more consistently than more useful qualities, politicians who are good at building relationships with powerful figures may have an advantage over people who are better equipped to govern but unwilling to become political slaves.

The Big Daily is your weekday shortcut to the biggest news shaping Nigeria. We cut through the noise, connect the dots, and explain why the news actually matters, all in one quick read.

Political mentorship versus political independence

Before you say the criticism of political godfatherism can easily become a criticism of political relationships themselves, there’s an explanation for that. 

Politicians need mentors who can advise them, support their campaign, and help them navigate political institutions. Younger politicians can also legitimately show respect to older politicians who have helped them. None of that is the problem.

The problem exists when a politician’s relationship with a powerful mentor becomes so important that they cannot act independently without risking their political existence.

A quick look at what happened in Osun recently. Soon after the governorship election, which got Ademola Adeleke from the Accord Party a second term in the government house, he travelled to Abuja to his certificate of return to President Tinubu of the APC.听

The Federal Capital Territory Minister, Nyesom Wike, in his usual manner, came out to say he was the one who Adeleke to pay a thank-you visit to the president. 

This was after the Minister of Aviation and Aerospace Development, Festus Keyamo, congratulated Adeleke on his re-election and said 鈥�.鈥� We wonder what the agreement was that made the APC and Osun State Accord Party align to that extent. 

Where do we go from here?

Desmond Elliot’s decision to apologise to Gbajabiamila may ultimately be a personal and political matter between two people who have known each other for years.

Elliot is entitled to decide how he wants to manage that relationship, and an apology does not automatically mean that he has done something wrong by showing respect to a senior politician.

But the reaction to the video is valid because Nigerians have watched this style of politics play out repeatedly. Political careers are now built around powerful patrons. And politicians who fall out with those godfathers can quickly learn just how impossible it is to survive when thrown underwater in Nigerian politics.

Nigeria’s democracy needs political parties with stronger internal institutions, candidates who can build genuine relationships with voters, and elected officials who understand that their first responsibility is to the people they represent.

While political loyalty and personal relationships will always matter, neither should become a substitute for democratic institutions.

Until that changes, Nigeria will continue producing politicians who know how to navigate powerful people but struggle to build people-centred administrations strong enough to outlive them. And that wouldn’t help Nigerians, would it?

Who is Senator Buba?

For many who have never heard of this man, let鈥檚 have a bit of a history class. was born on October 2 1976, in Nabordo village, Toro LGA, Bauchi State. He began his career as a classroom teacher before as a Special Assistant and then a Senior Special Assistant under then-Governor Isah Yuguda’s administration. He built out a business portfolio, too, serving as of business development at Aquawave Oil and Gas.

In February 2023, Umar the Bauchi South Senatorial District seat with 175,505 votes, defeating the People Democratic Party鈥檚 (PDP) Garba Dahiru. By July that year, he had chairman of the Senate Committee on National Security and Intelligence, a position that put the first-term senator at the centre of legislative oversight of the agencies tasked with identifying illegal armed groups and preventing terrorist attacks. That鈥檚 why this story is almost unbelievable; somehow, the man overseeing Nigeria’s security intelligence is now the man accused of funding terrorists and bandits

Where did the rumours come from?

The allegations against Buba trace back to September 2024. Then-Bauchi Governor Bala Mohammed wrote to President Tinubu after Department of State Services (DSS) operatives flagged two people who were registered for the 2024 Hajj through the state pilgrims’ board.听

Governor Mohammed’s alleged that Buba had sponsored a bandit kingpin for the pilgrimage through an aide named Yahaya Ibrahim. One of the two travellers, Abubakar Idris, was detained by the DSS on suspicion of banditry and kidnapping in Zamfara State.

Around the same time, a civil society group, the Nigeria Democratic Front (NDF), Buba was affiliated with a notorious bandit linked to kidnappings across Zamfara. 

Since 2024, Buba’s defence has remained consistent: that he has only pilgrims whom local traditional rulers recommended to him, not people he personally vetted.

In November 2024, Buba was as chairman of the Committee on National Security and Intelligence and moved to chair the Committee on Livestock and Animal Husbandry instead.

Governor?

Afterwards, Buba left the All Progressive Congress (APC) for the Peoples Redemption Party (PRP) and its 2027 Bauchi State governorship candidate. That’s when the allegations resurfaced, and this time with more fire.听

In September 2026, a content creator known as “D English Alhaji” with a man named Hassan Husseini, who accused Buba of harbouring bandit kingpins at his residence and claimed people connected to bandit leader were taken to Abuja for training with help from the senator’s aide.

Buba called the videos fabricated and politically motivated, tied the timing directly to his defection and governorship run, and filed criminal defamation complaints against his accusers in in both Nigeria and Niamey, Niger Republic. That defamation case is now proceeding in a federal court.

鈥淚 have nothing to hide鈥�

To prove his innocence, Buba the State Security Service (SSS), the Defence Intelligence Agency (DIA), and the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) to formally investigate the allegations against him. He also voluntarily submitted himself to the SSS for questioning and publicly challenged anyone with actual evidence to hand it to security agencies rather than social media.

Keep your eyes and ears open

This story is far from over, and here’s what to track: Watch the federal court defamation case; its outcome will shape whether these allegations are ever legally tested.

Follow up on whether the SSS, DIA, and police actually publish the findings from the investigation Buba himself requested, since that’s the clearest path to the facts. 

This is a test of whether Nigeria’s institutions can hold powerful people accountable when the accusations point at their own. That’s worth watching, no matter how the Buba case ends. 

The Director-General of the National Agency for Food and Drug Administration and Control (NAFDAC), Mojisola Adeyeye, has faced growing criticism over the prominence of fake products in the Nigerian market.

In an engagement with journalists in Lagos on Monday, September 7, 2026, she was asked about calls for her resignation amidst concerns around her and the agency鈥檚 impact. She laughed quite dramatically, then dismissed the claims around her incompetence in office, citing her personal achievements.

Here鈥檚 a rundown of just how much the NAFDAC Director-General has done in her nine years in office.

Adeyeye鈥檚 report card

When Adeyeye was appointed in 2017, she prioritised to international standards. In her first meeting with the World Health Organisation (WHO), she called for the improvement of laboratory services in Oshodi and Yaba, Lagos State, to qualify NAFDAC for WHO accreditation. This also included training agency staff and improving customer service between the agency and the Nigerian market. 

Under Adeyeye鈥檚 administration, NAFDAC also claimed to commence for nationwide drug registration, leading to in international regulatory standards.

However, NAFDAC鈥檚 was to reduce substandard medicine in Nigeria by 5% or less by 2025. As of 2026, no unified figures can weigh the 5% target, but shows as much as a 25% prevalence of fake medicine and drugs without specification in open markets and from licensed vendors alike.

A flawed background

Adeyeye鈥檚 personal performance can be viewed distinctly from NAFDAC鈥檚 performance. It is important to consider factors like government funding, customs policing, and such as supply chain leaks and poor packaging disposal. 

In December 2024, Adeyeye mentioned that , hindering its regulatory duties. By January 2025, she again, claiming a workforce of 2,000 and tagging the number as grossly inadequate. According to her, ; the Office of the Head of the Civil Service of the Federation (HOS) does. 

On Wednesday, September 9, 2026, Adeyeye that counterfeit drugs are still in circulation due to gaps in regulation. She claimed that there are patents on drugs, and when these patents are removed, it allows for low-level versions of these drugs to enter circulation.

Where does Adeyeye鈥檚 responsibility end, and where does the Nigerian system鈥檚 accountability begin?

Nigeria and eye-service politics

Time after time, we have seen politicians deflect pressing issues with fancy grammar or surface-level achievements. 

We鈥檙e in a cost of living crisis, but President Tinubu to the stock market, infrastructure and foreign reserves as progress. When Nyesom Wike was accused of borrowing money for FCT projects without National Assembly approval, House of Representatives Deputy Spokesperson Rep. Philip Agbese responded by heaping praise on Wike instead of facing the matter at hand. Meanwhile, Nigerians are still waiting to be addressed on the issues that actually matter.

Finding a house is supposed to be straightforward: decide what you want, find an agent who can help you find it, and pay for it. Unfortunately, house-hunting can sometimes feel like a test of patience, finances, and blood pressure. We asked Nigerians to share some of their house-hunting experiences, and their stories expose a huge regulatory gap in Nigeria鈥檚 housing and real estate sector, and the urgent need to fill it.

Promise, 26 (F), Benin

I had just finished NYSC in 2025 and wanted to move out of my parents鈥� house, so I started looking for a self-contained apartment with specific features. I could message about 10 agents in a day and still get no response. When they eventually replied, the houses they showed me were not even close to what I asked for.

Some would insist they had exactly what I wanted and invite me for inspections, only for me to get there and wonder if we’d been discussing the same house. After paying inspection fees to several agents for houses I wasn’t interested in, I had spent almost 鈧�60,000.

Tobi*, 29 (F), Lagos

I started house hunting earlier this year and spent months at it. I paid inspection fees to at least 15 agents, between 鈧�10,000 and 鈧�20,000 each, only to be taken to houses that looked nothing like what I wanted. Sometimes, the agents didn’t even know the locations, and I’d still have to pay for their transport. Now I’m technically homeless despite paying for a house in May because the agent and developer handed me a structurally defective apartment where water pours through the walls and mould covers everything. I packed out in July, and instead of refunding me, everyone has become shady. At this point, I just want to buy my own house. 

Oladayo*, 28 (M), Oyo State 

I was relocating from Ogun State to Oyo State around June 2026, and paid an agent 鈧�400,000 as a commitment fee for a 鈧�1.2 million apartment. The agent later told me someone else had taken the house and kept promising to refund me. When I eventually visited the apartment, I found someone else living there and discovered from the landlord that the agent had never even remitted my 鈧�400k. For three months, the agent kept asking for my account details and promising to pay, but nothing happened. I eventually had to borrow money to rent another apartment, and he still hasn’t returned my money.

Fiyin, 26 (F), Abuja

I would explain exactly what I wanted to several agents, but they preferred to just collect inspection fees. On one occasion, I paid an agent and waited at our meeting point for more than four hours while he kept saying he was almost there. The rain beat me that day. I called him several times when I got back home, but he wasn’t answering my calls. The next day, he called and asked me to come for another inspection, claiming he had a better deal. I still went, and he showed me an apartment that I’m sure even he couldn’t choose to live in. When I asked for my money back, he said I either had to continue with the inspection or leave without a refund. He eventually walked away and left me there.

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Joseph*, 29 (M), Lagos

Houses in Lagos are ridiculously small. I once inspected a two-bedroom apartment that cost 鈧�2.2 million, and one of the rooms didn’t even have a window. The agent also kept taking us from one place to another without knowing where the keys were, so we’d sometimes wait for one or two hours before we could even enter a house. Most of the places were terrible, and even the roads leading to them were awful. The one week I spent doing house inspections was one of my worst weeks this year.

Olalekan, 31 (M), Oyo State 

I paid an agent an inspection fee. On the day of the inspection, he called another agent to show me around. The second agent had already shown me the same apartments, and I had already rejected them. When I asked for my money back, the new agent told me I either follow him to see the same houses again or forget about my money. That was when I decided I was done with agents. I started spending my weekends walking around the areas where I wanted to live, looking for available apartments myself and speaking directly with landlords.

Abdullah, 36 (M), Kogi

In 2025, our landlord sold the house a few weeks after I renewed my rent, and the new landlord gave us short notice to move out. I had to search for another place while also chasing the former landlord for my money. Most of the houses I found were either too expensive or came with additional charges, with some agents demanding fees and commissions that were almost half the annual rent. I kept paying inspection and transport fees without getting an apartment, and eventually, the pressure forced me to co-rent with a friend. What made everything worse was that the former landlord didn’t refund my money promptly, even though I hadn’t planned to move in the first place.

Before September 30, 2011, my life was on track. I studied geography and regional planning at the university, but there were no jobs when I graduated, so I chose what I actually loved: movies.

By 2008, I was working with one of the biggest production companies in Nigerian entertainment, Wale Adenuga Productions (WAP), doing motion graphics and visual effects. I was the go-to person for opening title sequences on shows like Papa Ajasco and Company, , and This Life. I had opportunities to leave the country, but I turned them down because I believed I could contribute something to the industry here.

My plan was to spend five years at WAP, learn everything I could, and then start directing my own shows. I’d already started shooting music videos on the side. I was 32, and everything was pointing in the direction I wanted it to go.

Then came September 30, 2011.

We’d just wrapped preparations for a children鈥檚 Independence Day event, Nnenna and friends, at the National Theatre. I was supposed to sleep at the office, but around 9:30 pm I decided to head home instead. I picked up a friend on the way, and by 10:15 pm, we reached the police checkpoint I pass almost every night.

The officer asked for my ID; I handed it over, and while I waited for him to hand it back, I heard shouting from further down the road, then two gunshots.

I didn’t even see what happened next. The third gunshot came through the boot of my car and hit my right arm, which was resting on the armrest. I felt my whole arm jerk forward, and blood was everywhere. It felt like something out of a horror movie.

My friend took cover from being shot while I got out shouting that I’d been shot. The officer who’d been questioning me looked back at the others, and they just scattered, like someone had given them a signal to run. My friend and I ran toward the nearby police station instead, and I remember tearing off my shirt to tie around my arm to slow the bleeding, 

I don’t remember much after that. I collapsed near my car and blacked out. When I regained consciousness, I woke up to a crowd surrounding me, people were shouting that the police had killed somebody, and a woman nearby was crying, convinced I was dead. It turned out the officers manning that checkpoint had been drinking since 6 pm, celebrating the eve of October 1st.

We eventually got a police report and identified the officer who shot me. His name is Ayuba Philip, tag number: 257745. I can never forget it. Afterwards, I was rushed to Lagos State Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), where I spent the next month.

The bullet had hit the major artery supplying blood to my arm. The first surgery, where doctors took a vein from my leg to try to restore blood flow, failed within 72 hours. I passed out again from blood loss and had a second near-death experience in that hospital. Doctors told my family they might have to amputate. We prayed instead, and tried physiotherapy, but by the time I was discharged, my doctor’s advice was that the only way to save the hand was to undergo reconstructive surgery in India.

WAP held my position and helped where they could, but the hospital bill was mine to pay. When the Divisional Police Officer (DPO) finally visited a few weeks later, they brought Milo and milk. I remember this so clearly because there was no sugar, and I kept asking for sugar. The DPO promised that the police would cover the bill, but that promise never materialised.

When I eventually found a hospital in India for the surgery, they saidand the entire procedure would cost  $10,000. In order to raise the money, I sold everything I owned that was worth selling, including the car I got shot in. I borrowed from my family and took out a loan from my office. 

In India, doctors told me the hand needed nine separate procedures across three stages: restoring blood supply, then flexibility, then transplanting new tendons, since mine had died from lack of blood flow. I could only afford the first stage. I came home, unable to raise money for the second time, and that’s what pushed me to get a lawyer.

I wrote to the DPO first and got no response. I hired a Barrister who wrote to the Commissioner of Police and received no response for eight months, until we took the case to court in 2012. It dragged on for four years. The police sent one lawyer to the proceedings, a very subpar lawyer, if I say so myself. 

In 2015, we got a judgment from the Federal High Court; the police were held responsible for my medical bills and trauma, close to $47,000 combined, part of it in naira for the trauma I’d suffered.

Getting the judgment turned out to be the easy part. When we tried to get the money from the police accounts, every bank we approached said the police no longer held individual accounts; everything had moved into the Treasury Single Account (TSA) set up under the Buhari administration, which meant we needed the Attorney General’s consent to touch federal funds at the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). My lawyer wrote to every Inspector General who came and went after that, but still nobody replied.

Around 2020, my story got picked up by the BBC during the heat of the EndSARS movement. Punch and Vice News interviewed me, too. My case got admitted into the panel set up on Lagos Island to review police brutality cases, but the panel couldn’t override a federal court judgment; it could only compile findings and forward them to the federal government. That went nowhere as well.

In 2024, after the AGF finally acknowledged our petition and formally requested comments from the police, months passed with no response. So I did what I had learned works: I put the Inspector General on blast online, with a wanted poster and everything. That got a reaction, but only a promise to follow up again. When that AGF was replaced, we lost that thread entirely. I’ve since done the same to the current IGP, and my lawyer, who has some access through his current role, was invited to Force Headquarters. We submitted a fresh petition earlier this month. I’m still waiting.

I’ve told this part of the story before. What I haven’t talked about as much is what living with this injury actually did to me.

I went back to work at WAP, and they were generous; they even assigned someone to assist me, knowing I’d struggle to work at my former pace. But learning to do everything with my left hand, tying my shoes, buttoning a shirt, eating, was its own kind of hell. The moment that broke something in me was realising I could no longer shake someone’s hand. That’s when it hit me: I was disabled now, not just injured.

During a company reorganisation a while later, WAP eventually had to let some staff go, and it affected me. Finding new work afterwards was nearly impossible. I could still do the job; I’d adapted to using my left hand for everything, but employers would see my hand and say they’d get back to me and never did. I leaned on my wife and my family to survive, and i鈥檓 currently raising funds to complete the second and third stages of reconstructive surgery on his hand in India. 

The pain never left. It’s still there right now, as you鈥檙e reading this. I switched from painkillers to nicotine because the veins relax and it eases things, though it comes back whenever I need to use the toilet. My hand is permanently stiff. I can’t turn my palm to look at it. I had to invent my own ways of coping with the pain because there was no other option.

There were years when I thought about suicide, more than once, without knowing that’s what it was. I tried a couple of things that didn’t work. I’ve survived on remote gigs, ten dollars here, twenty there, and the belief that something will eventually change if I don’t give up.

In the years right after the shooting, I wasn’t looking for justice. I was looking for vengeance. What pulled me back was talking to actual police officers and realising most of them are victims of the same broken system; underpaid, undertrained, some of them drunk on duty because nobody’s holding them accountable either. The ones who pull triggers carelessly are the exception, not the rule, but the system protects them exactly the same way.

Justice for me now isn’t revenge. It’s the Nigerian police obeying a Federal High Court judgment that’s been sitting unenforced for over ten years. It’s an institution meant to enforce the law and actually respect it.

Amnesty International has documented close to 10,000 Nigerians killed by the police over two decades, and almost nobody outside those families is talking about it. Everyone’s debating police reform and state police right now, but nobody’s asking how any of that protects the next person who gets caught in a bullet meant for someone else.

I’m 47 now. I was a young man with a dream when this happened. If I could tell anyone one thing, it’s this: know your rights before you ever interact with the Nigerian police. Know what they can and cannot do to you. If you understand the law, you’ll instinctively resist unlawful treatment, and if you’re recording, they’ll usually back off once they realise you know what you’re doing. There are always bad actors within the force, no matter how clean the public image looks.

I’ve survived for a reason, and I still believe something will give. But surviving shouldn’t require this much.

Emmanuel Tomori is currently raising funds to complete the second and third stages of reconstructive surgery on his hand.