Nigeria

By Uzair Adam 

The National Hajj Commission of Nigeria (NAHCON) has commenced the return transportation of Nigerian pilgrims from Saudi Arabia, with 1,310 already flown back home from Jiddah.

According to data released by Malam Shafii Mohammed, Principal Information Officer of NAHCON, four Nigerian Hajj air carriers operated a total of four flights as part of the initial phase of the inbound operation.

MaxAir flight VM269 departed Jeddah for Bauchi at 08:07 hrs, carrying 551 pilgrims and seven officials. Flynas flight XY9006 left for Kebbi at 09:45 hrs with 413 pilgrims and six officials onboard. 

UMZA flight UY3534 took off for Abuja at 13:12 hrs with 41 pilgrims and 122 officials, while Air Peace flight APK7901 departed for Owerri at 23:45 hrs, transporting 305 pilgrims and seven officials.

It was gathered that about 63,000 Nigerian pilgrims participated in the just-concluded 2025 Hajj.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

Hakeem Baba-Ahmed, a former Special Adviser on Political Affairs to the Vice-President, has criticised President Bola Tinubu’s administration for not living up to public expectations, especially in terms of improving the quality of life for Nigerians.

Speaking on Channels Television’s Political Paradigm programme on Tuesday, Baba-Ahmed stated that the current government has failed to bring about meaningful governance improvements.

“Clearly, the Tinubu administration has failed expectations that it was going to radically improve the quality of governance,” he said.

Baba-Ahmed, who also served as spokesperson for the Northern Elders Forum, pointed out that positive reports from international bodies should not be the only measure of government performance.

He stressed that the real test lies in how citizens experience daily life under the administration.

“They will tell you they are doing great with all the World Bank statistics, all the international ratings and everything, but that’s not the only measures you use to measure a government; you measure by the way citizens live, and if that is the yardstick by which we are going to measure this administration, then clearly, the Tinubu administration has failed expectations that it was going to radically improve the quality of governance of President Buhari,” he explained.

He further advised President Tinubu to prioritise the fight against corruption, address the worsening insecurity, reduce poverty, and invest heavily in infrastructure and social welfare initiatives.

On the removal of petrol subsidies, Baba-Ahmed observed that the decision has made life more difficult for many Nigerians.

He also urged the president to ensure better management of federal allocations given to state governors, particularly those belonging to the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC).

“So much waste, so much abuse of resources and corruption going on,” he lamented.

He concluded by calling for stronger accountability mechanisms and better governance at all levels.

By Uzair Adam

Maryam Abacha, widow of the late military ruler General Sani Abacha, has denied longstanding allegations that her husband looted billions of dollars while in power, insisting that no credible evidence exists to support the accusations.

In a recent interview with TVC, Mrs. Abacha demanded that those making the claims present verifiable evidence.

“Who is the witness of the monies that were being stashed? Did you see the signature or the evidence of any monies stashed abroad?” she asked.

She further claimed that funds her husband had secured for Nigeria quickly disappeared after his death, alleging mismanagement by successive administrations.

“The monies that my husband kept for Nigeria, in a few months, the monies vanished. People are not talking about that,” she said.

Questioning the motivation behind the persistent focus on her husband’s alleged wrongdoing, Mrs. Abacha asked, “Why are you blaming somebody? “Is that tribalism or a religious problem or what is the problem with Nigerians? I pray for Nigerians. I pray for all of us. I pray that we should have goodness in our hearts. We should stop telling lies and blaming people.”

She also criticized what she described as a media culture of “bastardizing people,” urging journalists to educate Nigerians rather than perpetuate unfounded claims.

“People are not that bad. “Twenty-seven years ago and you are still talking about Abacha. He must be very powerful and loved by Nigerians. We thank God for that,” she added.

Mrs. Abacha, responding to a comment on the relatively stable economy under her husband’s rule—characterized by higher foreign reserves and lower external debt—insisted her husband had not stolen public funds.

“So, where did he steal the money from? So where would he have stolen the money from? And because Nigerians are fools, they listen to everything,” she said.

Emphasizing the need for national unity and mutual respect, Mrs. Abacha declared, “Babangida doesn’t make Nigeria alone. Abacha does not make Nigeria alone. Abiola and everybody, nobody is big enough for Nigeria. We are all very important.

“Even the single man on the street is very important. We are all human beings, for goodness sake. All these wahala should stop. Babangida cannot make things or unmake things.”

By Nura Jibo

Whenever I see sure PDP political power losers and their APC bedfellows making historical myths and inaccuracies about their pseudo performance of national economic growth and development, it reminds one of the gospel according to Barnabas.

As a Muslim, I actually believe in the Gospel of Barnabas as a myth rather than a reality. Though his assertions are very true and apt, they are considered among Christians as a non-canonical, pseudodepigraphical gospel attributed to him. They somehow believed Barnabas was a disciple of Jesus who lived in the 14th or 15th century.

These historical myths and inaccuracies are what the so-called PDP and APC elders would wish to present to ordinary Nigerians. Indeed, their misrepresentation of facts is contrary to a detailed account of Barnabas, who, according to his Torgado Siburian theological belief, explained Jesus’ life. This account includes elements that align with Islamic reality and beliefs, such as the denial of Jesus’ crucifixion and a focus on Jesus as a prophet rather than the Son of God. 

Indeed, the PDP/APC elders’ gospel on Nigeria’s political leadership/claim on its progress is nothing but something to be considered a fabrication, as it contradicts the canonical gospels and includes historical conundrums that even the so-called generals in politics that resort to this falsehood amidst public glare cannot provide an answer to!

The PDP presidency under Obasanjo and Jonathan is nothing but a political disaster.

These two presidents presided over Nigeria with impunity and first-class corruption that drained Nigerians and stripped them bare of their dignity in the comity of nations.

Obasanjo shamelessly accused his National Assembly of being a “den of corruption by a gang of unarmed robbers”.

Indeed, Evan Enwerem’s emergence as Obasanjo’s Senate president against Chuba Okadigbo confirmed his corrupt tendencies as a political but not military leader to Nigerians. This remains fresh in our psyches and memories.

The Siemens and KBR bribery scandals, which the FBI investigated, indicted President Obasanjo’s government internationally.

On the other hand, President Jonathan allowed a corrupt Diezani oil ministerial hubris of over N100 billion, alleged to have been collected by Diezani as undue enrichment.

This is not to rule out the role of his wife, Patience, in the $8.4 million and N7.4 billion linked to her by the EFCC under a file suit dubbed FHC/L/CS/620/18.

What the likes of Governors Sule Lamido, Amaechi, Nasiru El-Rufai, Peter Obi, and even VP Atiku Abubakar want to tell Nigerians after being frustrated and pushed to the periphery of power and out of national and global relevance, one hasn’t the vaguest idea.

Please note:

There is no point in alluding to the APC’s leadership under Buhari and Tinubu. Because doing so will not allow us to see the light of day, it is better not to mention the terrible economic harakiri, democratic suicide, and perturbed insecurity that the APC and, by extension, its PDP rivalries have thrown into Nigeria. Recounting APC ordeals is a déjà vu that this writer is not ready to waste more energy delving into.

Happy Eid celebration!

Nura wrote from Shahrazad Homes, 21 Zerifa Aliyev Street, Baku, Azerbaijan.

By Oladoja M.O

A peculiar tragedy defines the Nigerian state—a complete surrender of responsibility by those elected to bear it, a full-blown case of irresponsibility institutionalised at the highest levels. It is as if we are not being led at all. It is as if we are simply being watched, pitied, and narrated to. Our so-called leaders behave like helpless spectators, not as those with the authority to fix the very problems they moan about.

Shamefully, Nigeria lacks leadership. Instead, it has men and women who love the microphone more than the mandate. We are not governed; we are narrated. Commentators rule us.

Just days ago, a State Governor resurfaced with yet another alarming statement: that Boko Haram has infiltrated the government. Again. This is not the first time he has said something like this. Several times, he has come out to decry the killings, to point fingers, to lament the destruction. And every single time, one question keeps hanging in the air. What exactly has he, as the Chief Security Officer of the state, done about it? What has he changed? What systems has he challenged? What heads have rolled under his watch? Where is the real action beyond the endless news appearances and emotional speeches? It is not enough to wear a bulletproof vest and take a stroll in a burned village. That is not leadership. That is performance.

I mean, this individual is not a social media activist. He is not a political analyst. Not a powerless citizen. He is not a sympathiser. He is a sitting governor, for goodness’ sake! He has the resources, influence, and intelligence at his disposal. If all he can do is complain, then he has failed. And that is the bitter truth. Or how did the weight of office shrink to the mere performance of sympathy and public outrage? Because, for all I know, leaders do not just point to problems. They solve them. They don’t weep when the house burns. They command the water. But what we see here is the opposite. 

It is as if holding public office in Nigeria has been reduced to a loud-speaking exercise. The governor speaks. The senators speak. The representatives hold press conferences. Everybody speaks. But nobody leads. They describe problems they were empowered to solve, like detached observers, rather than active change agents. It is nauseating. It is tragic. It is dangerous because this governor is just one symptom of a far deeper rot. 

Nigeria’s leadership structure is littered with voices that echo sorrow and rage without ever lifting a finger to stop the bleeding. The National Assembly, for instance, has become a festival of talkers. Lawmakers who go to the chambers not to legislate, but to lament. Some of them even act as if their job is to criticise the government when in fact, they are the government. You hear them talk on TV and wonder if they were mistakenly sworn into opposition. These are people elected to craft laws, drive policies, and oversee the executive. Instead, they pick microphones and begin to “express worry”, “condemn in strong terms”, and “call on the federal government”, as though they are not the federal government themselves. It is embarrassing. It is pathetic. It is a national disgrace that the loudest voices in power are often the most passive in a country so battered.

And the tragedy is even louder when we look at the so-called new breed. For instance, Peter Obi has earned some Nigerians’ admiration because they see in him a departure from the past. But in reality, he’s just the same recycled blaming and deflecting game-player. Recently, when asked about the internal crisis tearing through the Labour Party, a party he is seen as the head of, his response was a flat finger-pointing exercise. He explained who caused what and who did what. Zero sense of responsibility. No ownership, nor a plan to fix it. Is it hard to understand that leadership is not explaining the problem but solving it? What are we banking on if someone aspiring to govern 200 million people cannot manage internal party squabbles?

Being soft-spoken and throwing statistics around is not leadership. Nigerians need people who carry the weight of responsibility and act with urgency, not people who are always ready with talking points. 

This country is bleeding. Virtually every region, every sector, every institution is either hoping to set into recovery or picking up the pieces. From poverty to insecurity, from joblessness to healthcare collapse, from fuel inflation to decaying infrastructure, we are a nation gasping for air. And what do our leaders do? They gather at events and in press briefings to express sympathy. They talk. They hold conferences. They issue long tweets. And then they disappear. It is now a full-blown epidemic. Everyone in power wants to talk about the problem. No one wants to be responsible for the solution. They love the headlines. They love the interviews. But they vanish when it is time for hard decisions, bold reforms, and deep accountability.

This is not what leadership looks like. Leadership means bearing the burden of others. It means thinking, planning, executing, sweating, failing, trying again, and never passing the buck. But Nigerian leaders today see power as a shield from responsibility. To them, power is for glory, not for duty. It is for the title, not for toil. And we, the people, must also take some blame. Because time after time, we bring these same people back. We vote them in. We defend them. We hail them. We wash, rinse, and repackage them for another round of useless governance. It is insanity.

A time must come, and it should be now, when Nigerians wake up to the bitter reality that democracy today is mostly a circus—a time when we say it clearly and loudly: enough with all the empty noise. We do not want more commentators, glorified orators, or prophets of doom in positions of power.

We want leadership. Real, practical, accountable leadership.

If you are in the office, your job is not to narrate the problem. Your job is to change it. If you are the governor and your people are being killed, we expect action, not pity. If you are a senator and the economy is crashing, we expect reform, not press conferences. Don’t blame others if you are a party leader and your house is on fire. Fix it. Nigeria can no longer afford leaders who vanish when it matters most. We cannot survive another decade of commentators posing as commanders. The country is on the brink, and what we need now are not voices of complaint, but minds of action and hearts of steel.

Until that happens, let the records reflect it. We are not being led. We are being narrated to. And that is the greatest insult of all.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com

By Sunusi Abubakar Birnin Kudu

Accounting, traditionally seen as the process of recording, summarising, analysing, and reporting financial transactions about individuals, businesses, or other organisations, is currently facing a transformative shift due to technological advancements, especially in Artificial intelligence. AI-powered accounting software has taken over many routine tasks performed by accountants. 

AI now automates core accounting tasks such as categorisation, data entry, and reconciliation. These tools now efficiently deliver real-time financial statements and modern finance metrics. Thus, the shift creates the fear of job displacement and professional irrelevance among accounting students and accountants. This calls for accountants to adapt to those changes and avoid being irrelevant. A study published by Forbes supports these concerns, noting that among the factors that led over $300,000 accountants and auditors to leave their jobs between 2019 and 2021 is a fear of being replaced by automation. 

However, this assertion has a contrary narrative. A recent survey by an automation platform called DataSnipper indicates that auditing/accounting job vacancies rose by 25% in 2024. This was attributed to the high demand for accounting personnel, the retirement of those in practice, and the role of AI in cutting down auditors’ repetitive work. The survey also indicates that 83% of the auditors in the world tend to stay in companies with AI initiatives. 

These findings illustrate a key truth. AI has posed both threats and opportunities to accountants and the accounting profession. However, the determining factor lies in how accountants respond to them. 

Although AI can perform many accounting functions that accountants carry out, it can’t replace the human judgment required to weigh up different variables and make an informed decision. For this reason, accountants might have a respite. However, they need to evolve from being financial reporters to becoming strategic advisors, leveraging financial data analytics (DA) to interpret data, advise their clients, and enhance organisational performance.

Financial data analytics in accounting involves making critical financial decisions for an organisation. It enables accountants to keep track of the overall organisation’s functions. Accountants with DA knowledge can help organisations to make informed decisions. They can assist organisations in maintaining records, budgeting and financial forecasting, and setting targets and projections with high accuracy.

An accountant can use DA to guide company-employee relations by establishing key performance indicators to analyse employees’ overall financial impact on the company. Through AI-driven analytic tools like Zoho and Qlik, accountants can simplify complex financial circumstances into useful information. 

Furthermore, in tax consultancy and advisory services, accountants can use financial data analytics to guide clients through tax planning and compliance. They can also liaise with revenue agencies for efficient revenue collection. Data analytics tools can be harnessed by accountants based on the nature and circumstances of the clients. 

Accountants who transition from ordinary financial data processing to advanced financial data interpretation tend to be more relevant to the accounting profession. Adopting data analytics helps accountants stay relevant in a competitive labour market and improves their professionalism and expertise. 

The accounting profession is no longer limited to classification, summarisation, and reporting. It requires accurate data analysis and informed decisions. AI is an opportunity for accountants, not a deterrent. Accountants shouldn’t resist this development but rather adapt it, harness it, and grow. This is the only way to redefine their relevance in an AI-driven era.

Sunusi Abubakar (ACA in view) wrote this from Arawa B. Akko Local Government, Gombe State.

By Muhammad Lawal Ibrahim, PhD

Another brilliant mind has died. Another Nigerian professor, Prof. Abubakar Roko, has just been murdered by the state,not by bullets, nor by bandits, but by an unforgiving system, deliberate neglect, and a government that treats its academics like disposable rags. He needed ₦13 million for medical treatment abroad. After over 20 years of service to this so-called nation, he could not raise it. He lay bedridden, helpless, abandoned, and now he is dead. We must stop calling this “natural death.” This was murder by government negligence.

In a country that throws billions at political cronies, gives lawmakers millions in wardrobe allowances, and funds endless pilgrimages and jamborees, a professor had to be paraded online like a beggar, with students scrambling to raise funds just so their teacher might survive. Yet even that was insufficient. The system choked him to death slowly, much like it is doing to thousands of others right now.

Where are the salaries? 

As of this writing, tertiary institution workers are celebrating Sallah (Eid-ul-Adha) without salaries. Go and verify. Civil servants in other sectors have been paid weeks ago. But those who teach your children, those who write your policies, those who keep the soul of the country alive—are being starved like prisoners of war. And when it was reported that over 1,000 lecturers have died under this current administration, bootlickers and sycophants ask, “What killed them?” What killed them? What didn’t?

Sickness, hunger, depression, suicide, systemic poverty, lack of medical care, all wrapped in the evil legacy of Buhari’s betrayal and now Tinubu’s reign of economic terrorism, killed them and are still counting.

Tinubu’s “Renewed Hope” is academic genocide

Let’s not sugarcoat it. What’s happening in Nigeria’s higher education system today is academic genocide. The federal government has effectively declared war on the ivory tower. Salaries are frozen. Promotions are denied. Research is dead. Morale is nonexistent. Students are turning to fraud and crime. Lecturers are dying in silence, many too ashamed to beg for help. But yes, the president has just approved ₦90 billion for Hajj. Where is the justice in this madness?

A rotten elite and a silent society

The ruling class in Nigeria treats lecturers like slaves while flying abroad for their checkups, educating their children overseas, and stealing public funds to build mansions in Dubai. Meanwhile, professors die waiting for ₦13 million. We are ruled by demons in agbadas, celebrated by cowards, and enabled by silence.

What’s worse is that many Nigerians have been so brutalised that they now laugh off their own destruction. “Lecturers are always complaining.” Yes, because they are slowly being buried alive.

We will not forgive

To those in power, your days of immunity from truth are over. You will be remembered not as leaders, but as executioners. We will not forgive you for the lives you’ve ruined. Not in death. Not in history. Not in the court of God.

You have destroyed one of the few remaining sectors that held credibility in this country. And for what? Your greed? Your power games? Your bottomless stomachs?

Prof. Roko is dead, and I pray for Allah to accept his good, innocent soul into the highest level in paradise, amin. But this article is not about him alone. It is about every Nigerian academic suffering right now in silence. It is about every student being denied a future. It is about a nation killing its own brain and expecting to survive.

Enough is enough. Let this death be a curse on the conscience of every politician who has contributed to this decay.

Let this be a rallying cry for every Nigerian who still has a soul left.

Muhammad Lawal Ibrahim, PhD, wrote from ABU, Zaria, lawalabusalma@gmail.com.

By Oladoja M.O

How Nigeria’s Traditional Medicine Policy Falters in the Face of a Healthcare Crisis

Traditional medicine remains a lifeline in the heart of Nigeria’s vibrant communities. For millions, the village herbalist is not just a healer but the only accessible one. Yet, despite its ubiquity and potential, traditional medicine in Nigeria remains largely relegated to the fringes of the healthcare system.

Why? Because the one policy that could breathe life into it, the “Traditional Medicine Policy” of 2007, is quite frankly a policy without a pulse.

It exists on paper, yes. But in practice, it drifts in the ether of neglect, underfunding, and governmental lip service. The intent was noble: to recognise, integrate, and regulate traditional and complementary medicine (T&CM) harmoniously with Nigeria’s conventional medical framework. But over 15 years later, the landscape remains fragmented institutions, unrecognised practitioners, and a glaring vacuum of legislation that could bind it all into something functional.

The 2007 policy envisioned institutionalising traditional medicine education, promoting evidence-based practices, and protecting indigenous knowledge. It proposed the development of curricula, collaborations between practitioners and scientists, and most importantly, the integration of traditional health workers into mainstream healthcare delivery.

But here’s the reality in 2025:

Despite repeated attempts to pass the Council for Traditional, Alternative, and Complementary Medicine Practice Bill, there is no functional regulatory council for traditional medicine practitioners.

No constitutionally defined or legally licensed role for herbalists or traditional health workers within Nigeria’s medical profession.

Institutions like NICONMTECH, Ibadan College of Natural Medicine, and African College of Traditional Medicine train thousands annually, but no professional pathway exists to license or employ them formally.

Only National Diplomas or certificates exist; there’s no accredited B.Sc. program, no postgraduate clinical practice recognition, and no universal standard for certification.

The result? A generation of “trained” traditional medicine practitioners with no seat at the healthcare table.

Counting some blessings, Nigeria’s Ministry of Health did establish the Department of Traditional, Complementary & Alternative Medicine in 2018, but its impact has been symbolic at best. NAFDAC mandated herbal product registration and labelling, which doesn’t translate into practitioner recognition or integration. The Natural Medicine Development Agency (NNMDA) was signed into law in 2019 to spearhead research and development, but there is no central governing council, which means that coordination remains chaotic. State governments have made some strides, e.g., Governor Soludo’s Anambra State Herbal Practice Law, but it is an isolated effort with no national backing. Ultimately, it’s like having a beautifully designed ship without a captain or compass.

One might ask, why does this matter more than ever now?

It is no longer breaking news that Nigeria is bleeding professionals. The “Japa” wave has not spared doctors, nurses, or dentists. With over 65% of qualified health workers seeking opportunities abroad, Nigeria’s healthcare system is being hollowed out from within.

To compound this, the country now faces blocked financing from global donors like the U.S., partly due to concerns over poor transparency, suboptimal health data management, and systemic inefficiencies. With this dwindling foreign aid and a crumbling workforce, we should explore every viable alternative, and traditional medicine stands at the crossroads.

But rather than mobilise this ready workforce, we shackle them with policy paralysis, leaving our vast herbal and traditional knowledge base languishing in semi-formal practice, unprotected, unregulated, and unsupported.

Time after time, the National Association of Nigerian Traditional Medicine Practitioners (NANTMP) has repeatedly called on the National Assembly to pass the Traditional, Complementary and Alternative Council of Nigeria (TCACN) Bill. Their plea is simple: recognise, regulate, and give us a voice in the national health discourse. They are not asking for a free ride, but for the years of training at herbal schools, skills acquisition centres, and research institutes across Nigeria to be met with a legitimate path to service.

After all, how do you tell a Nigerian College of Natural Medicine Technology graduate that their diploma is valid, but they are legally invisible? How do you justify decades of policy silence when the country desperately needs all hands on deck?

A living policy evolves with need, responds to gaps, and energises sectors. The 2007 policy is comatose, hanging on by technical documents and departmental charades. What it needs now is:

An active national council to regulate, license, and accredit T&CM practitioners.

Curriculum reform and NUC-approved B.Sc. degrees to professionalise training.

Legal recognition of traditional practitioners under Nigeria’s health law.

Clear collaborative frameworks between conventional health professionals.

Nigeria cannot afford to sideline its heritage medicine when its hospitals are overcrowded, its workforce is thinning, and its people are desperate for healing, wherever it may come from.

We do not need another policy document. What we need is a pulse.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com

By Malam Aminu Wase

Once upon a time, Plateau State was a beacon of peace and prosperity. Nestled in the heart of Nigeria, it was a place where nature, culture, and hospitality came together in perfect harmony. Tourists enjoyed its cool weather, striking landscapes, and vibrant local communities. The Tin City, as Jos was fondly called, bustled with life, creativity, and promise.

But the tragic eruptions of religious and ethnic crises turned that promise into pain. In just a few years, the spirit of unity that defined Plateau faded, and the state began slowly declining economically, socially, and psychologically. What once symbolised Nigeria’s peaceful coexistence became a cautionary tale.

As we reflect on what was lost, we must confront what can still be regained. The nostalgia we feel for those better days is not just sentimental—it is a reminder of what is possible when peace reigns. Plateau’s beauty remains, as does the enduring goodwill of its people. We need a collective recommitment to peace, tolerance, and shared progress.

Let us not be deceived: the divisions that tore through our communities were not inevitable. They were fanned by the greed and political ambition of a few elites, who found power in division. But the people have grown wiser. Today, Plateau has a growing desire to put those dark times behind us and rebuild a society anchored in unity and mutual respect.

The future of Plateau depends on us, ordinary citizens who choose dialogue over conflict, cooperation over suspicion. If we unite sincerely, we can restore trust, attract investment, and lay the foundation for a thriving economy. Peace is not a luxury—it is the bedrock of development.

With stability, there is no limit to what Plateau can achieve. Its tourism potential, agricultural wealth, and strategic location can be leveraged to turn it into a hub of economic activity, perhaps even rivalling global success stories like the UAE, in sha Allah.

Plateau belongs to all of us. It is our shared heritage and responsibility. The time to recover its lost glory is now.

By Usman Muhammad Salihu

I never truly grasped the danger of exposing personal information in the digital space until Mr. Yushau Shuaib, my boss and mentor, handed me a book—Born Digital: Understanding the First Generation of Digital Natives by John Palfrey and Urs Gasser. 

It was an eye-opener, full of prescient warnings about the hidden costs of living in a world where our lives are increasingly mediated by technology. Ironically, neither of us imagined that the warnings in that book would soon play out so personally, and so dramatically.

Mr. Shuaib, a respected public relations expert and founder of PRNigeria, participated in Senior Executive Course 47 at the National Institute for Policy and Strategic Studies (NIPSS). On May 2, 2025, he was abruptly suspended from the course. 

His offence? Publishing articles highlighting and supporting President Bola Tinubu’s Digital and Blue Economy reforms. One article, “Understanding the ‘Blue’ in the Blue Economy,” praised the government’s innovative strides in marine resource development. 

Another, “NIPSS Goes Digital,” celebrated the institute’s transition to a paperless administrative system—part of Nigeria’s broader digital transformation agenda. While he did not write or edit the latter, it appeared on his media platform.

In response to his suspension, Mr. Shuaib petitioned the President, citing harassment, cyberbullying, and professional ostracism. He argued that the action was punitive and lacked due process. 

NIPSS, however, insisted he breached institutional policy by publishing materials related to the institute without clearance—a rule they claim he had previously been warned about.

But a chilling twist escalated the matter beyond internal disciplinary lines: PRNigeria’s editorial email account was allegedly compromised. Confidential communications between journalists and their sources, private story drafts, and editorial exchanges were reportedly accessed without consent. 

The intrusion, attributed to officials of the same institute that suspended Mr. Shuaib, raised serious ethical and legal concerns. This was no ordinary data breach. It directly violated professional boundaries, journalistic independence, and Nigeria’s own Cybercrime Act. 

It represented something more insidious than a lapse in judgment—it was, in many ways, a digital form of trespass. The incident sent ripples through the media and security circles. 

If an elite policy institute tasked with grooming Nigeria’s future strategic leaders could be implicated in such an act, what message does that send about our national commitment to digital ethics and the rule of law?

It is precisely the kind of scenario “Born Digital” warns about—a world where our private digital footprints are vulnerable not just to hackers or corporations but also to institutions that should be protecting those rights.

In one haunting passage, the authors write: “Young people who are living their lives mediated by digital technologies will pay a higher price, sometimes down the road, for the way privacy is handled in this converged, hybrid environment… 

“Most young people are extremely likely to leave something behind in cyberspace that will become a lot like a tattoo, something connected to them that they cannot get rid of later in life.”

That line has stayed with me because it is no longer just about young people; it is about all of us. Our identities, habits, preferences, locations, communications, and relationships are all being recorded, stored, and sometimes exploited through what are now known as digital dossiers.

These dossiers are detailed archives of our lives compiled by apps, platforms, websites, and even institutions. They are often created without our consent or awareness. While they promise convenience and personalised experiences, they also have profound risks.

Privacy has become a currency we are forced to spend for access. And increasingly, it is a luxury only a few can afford. The NIPSS breach is a wake-up call. It reveals the fragile boundaries between transparency and intrusion, policy enforcement and personal violation. 

It is a reminder that digital transformation must be matched by ethical responsibility and legal accountability. As a journalist, I have often lived under the illusion of digital safety. 

But as a parent, I now worry for my young daughter and the millions like her growing up in a world where data is your shadow—and sometimes, your shackle. We must do more. We must demand stronger data protection laws, foster a culture of privacy awareness, and hold institutions accountable, no matter how revered. 

Our digital world should not come at the cost of our humanity, dignity, or freedom. The threats are real, the consequences are near, and the time to act is now.