The Dangerous Politics of Defection and Selective Justice in Nigeria
When allegations roar while a politician is in opposition but appear to lose urgency after political realignment, the greater casualty is not merely the anti-corruption war. It is public confidence in the equality of every Nigerian before the law.
There are words that disappear almost as soon as they are spoken. And there are words that refuse to die because, intentionally or otherwise, they capture something larger than the occasion that produced them.
On January 17, 2019, at an All Progressives Congress presidential campaign rally in Benin City, then APC National Chairman Adams Oshiomhole welcomed politicians defecting from the Peoples Democratic Party and uttered a sentence that has haunted Nigerian politics ever since:
“Once you have joined APC, all your sins are forgiven.”
The remark was made publicly .
What Oshiomhole was saying was that corrupt suspects would have criminal charges extinguished by joining the APC.
That distinction explain why the sentence has survived for years.
It survives because many Nigerians believe they have repeatedly witnessed something disturbingly similar in practice: politicians facing allegations, investigations or prosecutions while outside the ruling establishment who subsequently cross over politically, after which the intensity, visibility or apparent urgency surrounding their cases seems to change.
That perception—whether justified in every individual case or not—is itself profoundly dangerous.
For when citizens begin to suspect that political affiliation influences the temperature of criminal investigation, the problem is no longer merely corruption.
It becomes an institutional crisis of credibility.
And that is the real tragedy behind the phrase, “Your sins are forgiven.”
A CANCER BEYOND THE CONVENTIONAL SCALE
If political decay could be described as a cancer, Nigeria’s crisis of selective accountability increasingly resembles a malignancy that has spread beyond one institution.
Call it, metaphorically, a political “Stage Five” cancer—a disease beyond the conventional medical staging scale because it appears to have penetrated several vital organs of the republic.
It has entered politics.
It has entered public administration.
It has infected public perceptions of prosecution.
It has damaged confidence in law enforcement.
It has raised questions about the justice system.
And, most dangerously, it has entered the psychology of ordinary citizens.
The greatest danger is no longer simply that politicians may steal public money.
The greater danger comes when society begins to believe that stealing public money is politically survivable so long as the alleged offender remains sufficiently useful to those who control power.
That belief destroys deterrence.
The civil servant watching begins to ask: Why should I fear consequences when powerful people appear able to negotiate their way around them?
The politician begins to think: Perhaps my greatest protection is not innocence but alignment.
The contractor concludes that relationships may matter more than compliance.
And the ordinary citizen begins to suspect that justice is not blind after all—that it can recognise party colours.
That is how corruption stops looking like an offence and begins to resemble a political business model.
Indeed, some politicians who joined the APC continued to have the cases and prosecution against them dropped abruptly without any reason rather than that they aligned with the ruling party . We are yet to see any conviction from all the serious allegations of corruption . Some obtained judicial acquittals related to party membership.
That fact must be acknowledged.
But acknowledging it does not erase another equally important fact: there have been several highly controversial cases involving politicians associated with the ruling party in which prosecutions were withdrawn, defendants were discharged, convicted former governors were pardoned, investigations remained unresolved for years, or proceedings ended in circumstances that generated legitimate public questions.
The issue, therefore, is not whether an APC membership card possesses some mystical legal power to extinguish criminal liability.
Yes It does.
The more important issue is whether Nigeria’s institutions operate with enough independence, consistency and transparency to convince citizens that political affiliation makes absolutely no difference.
That is where the real argument begins. And the answer is resounding and vociferously NO
THE CASE FILES
Danjuma Goje: When Timing Became the Story
Former Gombe State governor Danjuma Goje had been prosecuted by the EFCC for years.
Of the original 21 counts against him, 19 were dismissed in March 2019, leaving two counts on which the Federal High Court held that he had a case to answer.
Then came the contest for the presidency of the Ninth Senate.
Goje withdrew his Senate presidency ambition and supported Ahmad Lawan, the APC leadership’s preferred candidate.
Shortly afterward, the Office of the Attorney-General of the Federation took over his prosecution from the EFCC. The remaining charges were subsequently withdrawn and Goje was discharged.
Then Attorney-General Abubakar Malami later said the case was discontinued because the evidence against Goje was weak.
That explanation deserves to be recorded.
But government must also recognise a fundamental principle:
Justice must not merely possess a legal explanation. It must possess public credibility.
The timing inevitably attracted questions. Those questions do not establish that a political bargain occurred. Corruption is a very serious issue therefore any proof of interference must be taken seriously.
But when politically advantageous conduct is followed closely by prosecutorial relief, transparency becomes indispensable.
Government cannot demand public trust while withholding the information capable of producing it.
Abdullahi Adamu: Discharged, But Not Acquitted
Former Nasarawa State governor Abdullahi Adamu was arraigned in 2010 alongside others over allegations involving approximately ₦15 billion.
He later became part of the APC political establishment.
In 2016, prosecutors applied to withdraw the case. The Federal High Court discharged Adamu and the other defendants but refused to acquit them, meaning a fresh prosecution remained legally possible.
That distinction is critical.
A discharge is not necessarily an acquittal.
Yet where such a serious case disappears from public attention without a transparent explanation of whether it was reviewed, abandoned, re-investigated or closed, citizens are entitled to ask what became of it.
An anti-corruption file involving billions of naira should not simply evaporate into institutional silence.
Timipre Sylva: A Case Complicated by the Courts
Former Bayelsa State governor Timipre Sylva’s case demonstrates why political analysis must distinguish prosecutorial decisions from judicial decisions.
He faced EFCC proceedings concerning allegations that billions of naira belonging to Bayelsa State had been improperly moved.
Federal High Court judges subsequently struck out or dismissed charges, including on grounds that repeated prosecutions arising from substantially the same subject matter constituted abuse of court process.
The EFCC at one stage filed fresh charges after an earlier case was struck out.
But the history nevertheless demonstrates the confusion produced when high-profile corruption prosecutions travel repeatedly between withdrawal, refiling and dismissal without producing a clear final public understanding of what happened.
Godswill Akpabio: Investigation Before and After Defection
Godswill Akpabio, former Akwa Ibom governor and now Senate President, was questioned by the EFCC beginning in 2015 over allegations concerning his administration.
He joined the APC in August 2018.
Akpabio denied the allegations and rejected suggestions that his defection was motivated by fear of prosecution. He said at the time that the EFCC had found nothing against him.
Yet one month after his defection, then EFCC acting chairman Ibrahim Magu publicly stated that the investigation was still ongoing and insisted that changing political parties did not terminate EFCC investigations.
That distinction matters.
Akpabio was investigated; the older case was not a criminal conviction subsequently erased by his defection.
The legitimate question is therefore not to pronounce guilt where no conviction exists, but to ask what eventually became of investigations of such public importance.
When government agencies announce enormous allegations, they acquire a corresponding obligation to tell the public how those investigations ended.
The cases of former Plateau governor Joshua Dariye and former Taraba governor Jolly Nyame are fundamentally different.
These were no longer merely allegations.
Both men were prosecuted.
Both were convicted.
Both had their cases tested through the appellate judicial system.
Dariye’s sentence eventually stood at 10 years, while Nyame’s stood at 12 years. Their convictions concerned the diversion of substantial public funds.
Then came executive clemency.
In April 2022, under President Muhammadu Buhari, both men received presidential pardons. They were released from prison in August that year.
The Buhari administration defended the pardons, citing age and health considerations and arguing that the decision would not derail the government’s anti-corruption programme.
The constitutional power of pardon is indisputable.
But so is the symbolism.
A government spends years and enormous public resources investigating corruption. Prosecutors litigate the cases. Judges hear the evidence. Convictions are secured. Appeals proceed. The Supreme Court becomes involved.
Then executive clemency intervenes.
Whatever the humanitarian or constitutional justification, citizens are entitled to debate what such decisions do to deterrence.
A country cannot spend one decade telling public officials that corruption attracts consequences and another moment creating the impression that those consequences may ultimately become negotiable.
Orji Uzor Kalu: The Important Counterexample
Former Abia State governor Orji Uzor Kalu formally joined the APC in November 2016 while facing an EFCC prosecution. At the time, he expressly denied suggestions that he joined the ruling party in order to terminate his trial.
His prosecution did not disappear.
Kalu was convicted in December 2019 and sentenced to 12 years’ imprisonment.
In May 2020, however, the Supreme Court nullified the conviction and ordered a fresh trial because the judge who delivered the judgment after his elevation to the Court of Appeal lacked jurisdiction to continue sitting as a Federal High Court judge in the matter. Subsequent litigation has involved whether Kalu himself may be retried, with the EFCC continuing to contest restrictions on a retrial. (Premium Times Nigeria)
Kalu’s case therefore matters because it demonstrates why sweeping claims are dangerous.
Joining the ruling party did not automatically stop his prosecution.
That reality should make the broader criticism more precise, not less serious.
Gbenga Daniel: Acquittal Is Not Political Pardon
Former Ogun State governor Gbenga Daniel joined the APC in February 2021.
He had faced an EFCC prosecution dating back to 2011 involving allegations of financial impropriety and abuse of office.
In April 2022, after approximately 11 years of litigation, the Court of Appeal discharged and acquitted him of the charges.
An acquittal by a court must be respected.
It cannot legitimately be rewritten as proof that a political party “forgave” an offence.
The rule of law cuts in both directions: society must prosecute wrongdoing vigorously, but it must equally respect the rights and innocence of anyone whom the prosecution fails to convict according to law.
Murtala Nyako: A Decade Without Resolution
Former Adamawa governor Murtala Nyako’s case illustrates another Nigerian problem—the extraordinary lifespan of corruption prosecutions.
Nyako was charged by the EFCC in 2015 over an alleged ₦29 billion diversion of public funds.
A decade later, there was still no final conviction or acquittal.
In July 2025, lawyers for Nyako and the EFCC informed the Federal High Court that discussions were underway toward an out-of-court resolution.
Whatever ultimately happens, a corruption prosecution should not require a generation to answer a basic question:
Did the accused commit the offence or not?
Justice delayed for 10 or 15 years damages everyone.
It damages the defendant if he is innocent.
It damages the public if he is guilty.
And it damages confidence in the judicial system regardless of the eventual outcome.
Bello Matawalle: The Unresolved ₦70 Billion Investigation
Former Zamfara governor Bello Matawalle, now Minister of State for Defence, governed originally on the PDP platform before defecting to the APC.
In 2023, the EFCC publicly disclosed an investigation into allegations involving approximately ₦70 billion, including alleged phantom contracts and diversion of funds during his tenure as governor.
In May 2024, the EFCC publicly maintained that the investigation remained open.
Matawalle has not been convicted over those allegations, and an investigation must never be treated as proof of guilt.
But therein lies the institutional problem.
Where spectacular allegations involving tens of billions of naira are publicly announced, there must eventually be a transparent conclusion.
Charge the suspect if the evidence supports prosecution.
Close the investigation if it does not.
But leaving politically sensitive investigations suspended indefinitely between accusation and resolution damages both the accused and the credibility of the anti-corruption agency.
The Current Test
Former Delta State governor Ifeanyi Okowa presents perhaps one of the clearest contemporary tests of the “sins forgiven” perception.
The EFCC detained and questioned Okowa in November 2024 over allegations concerning approximately ₦1.3 trillion in derivation funds.
In April 2025, five months after the investigation became public, Okowa defected from the PDP to the APC alongside his successor, Governor Sheriff Oborevwori, and several Delta political officeholders.
Predictably, the familiar question returned:
Would another political defection be followed by another disappearing investigation?
At least on the publicly available evidence, that conclusion cannot presently be made.
In October 2025, the EFCC specifically stated that Okowa’s defection would not stop its investigation.
And on June 22, 2026, The Cable reported that Okowa visited the commission’s Lagos office in connection with the continuing investigation.
This is therefore not a case in which guilt should be presumed.
Instead, it is a case in which Nigerians are entitled to demand institutional clarity:
What has the investigation established?
Has sufficient admissible evidence been found?
Will charges be filed?
If not, will the investigation formally be closed?
What happened to the evidence collected?
The public deserves an answer.
If there is sufficient evidence, prosecute.
If the evidence cannot sustain prosecution, say so.
A corruption investigation must never become political purgatory—a file neither prosecuted nor closed, capable of remaining indefinitely available for political interpretation.
THE REAL CANCER IS SELECTIVE ACCOUNTABILITY
Taken together, these cases in Nigeria has establish that every politician who joins the ruling party automatically escapes justice.
The record is more complicated clearer in Okowa’s monumental case, we don’t even hear of the case against Okowa anymore.
Have charges been withdrawn?
Or has he been discharged ?
This is egregiously opprobrious, we as a country cannot continue like this, this is like animal kingdom where certain animals have immunity because of their species.
Some investigations lingered without prosecution.
Some prosecutions ends immediately after defection.
Some defendants were actually convicted after joining the ruling party but the sentence suspended, from there they will be either pardoned or released
That complexity weakens the argument for accountability.
It strengthens impunity and encourages corruption.
Because the real danger is inconsistency, opacity and the perception of selective justice.
Party membership must never determine guilt.
But neither should party membership determine investigative enthusiasm.
If the EFCC begins investigating a PDP politician on Monday, that investigation should proceed with precisely the same vigour if the person becomes APC on Tuesday.
If an APC officeholder defects to an opposition party on Wednesday, an investigation should not mysteriously accelerate on Thursday unless new evidence justifies that acceleration.
The file must follow the evidence.
The evidence must never follow the party card.
Once citizens cease believing that institutions are politically neutral, every legitimate prosecution becomes vulnerable to accusations of persecution.
The guilty politician claims victimisation.
The innocent politician makes the same claim.
Citizens can no longer distinguish between genuine anti-corruption enforcement and political warfare.
Eventually, the anti-corruption system itself becomes politically devalued.
HOW DOES NIGERIA ESCAPE THIS OPPROBRIUM?
Nigeria does not need another anti-corruption slogan.
It needs institutions so transparent and independent that the political affiliation of a suspect becomes irrelevant.
First, every major anti-corruption investigation should have a traceable public status. If the EFCC announces an alleged ₦10 billion, ₦70 billion or ₦1.3 trillion scandal, Nigerians should eventually be told what happened. Was the suspect charged? Was the file closed for insufficient evidence? Was it transferred? Is the investigation continuing? Government cannot announce allegations loudly and dispose of outcomes silently.
Second, party defection must have absolutely no effect on investigation or prosecution. This should be demonstrated institutionally, not merely repeated rhetorically.
Third, withdrawal of major corruption prosecutions should be accompanied by transparent reasons. The Attorney-General has constitutional prosecutorial powers, but extraordinary public-interest cases require extraordinary transparency.
Fourth, presidential pardons for persons convicted of grand corruption deserve the highest level of public scrutiny. Clemency is constitutional, but constitutional power and wise public policy are not necessarily the same question.
Fifth, corruption trials must have reasonable timelines. Cases should not wander through Nigerian courts for 10, 12 or 15 years until witnesses disappear, documents become difficult to locate and the population forgets what the case was originally about.
Sixth, anti-corruption institutions require genuine operational independence. Their investigations, budgets, appointments and prosecutorial decisions should be protected as far as constitutionally possible from partisan interference.
Seventh, investigations must be evidence-led rather than media-led. Announcing gigantic figures before investigators possess courtroom-ready evidence can turn anti-corruption into political theatre. Charge what can be proved.
Eighth, acquittals must be respected. The objective of fighting corruption cannot be to convict everybody accused. An independent judiciary must remain capable of saying that government has failed to prove its case.
Ninth, political parties should stop treating every high-profile defection merely as the capture of another electoral trophy. Public integrity should matter regardless of which party benefits politically from the defection.
And tenth, exactly the same standard must apply to every party—APC, PDP, Labour Party, ADC or any political organisation that controls governm
