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There are two kinds of stories that begin with a Nigerian prince. The first is the familiar one: the email promising millions of dollars trapped in a foreign account if only you would kindly provide your bank details and a modest processing fee. It is the joke that has followed Nigeria around the world for …
Continue reading "The Nigerian Prince Who Budgeted Himself Into Government by Lawson Akhigbe"
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Lifusprudence: An Introduction to a Judicial Hitman” by Chidi Anselm Odinkalu introduces “Lifusprudence” as the controversial judicial brand of Justice Peter Lifu of Nigeria’s Federal High Court. It contrasts Lifu’s predictable, politically aligned rulings — often accused of disregarding constitutional guardrails, ignoring higher court orders, and inventing convenient interpretations (e.g., the recent political parties de-registration case) — with the legacy of Nigeria’s illustrious judges. The piece portrays Lifu as a dependable “judicial hitman” for ruling party interests, framing his style as a dangerous form of clientelism masquerading as law, especially ahead of elections.
"Nyesom Wike, the current Minister of the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) and former Governor of Rivers State, stands out in Nigerian politics as a bold, combative, and highly strategic operator. His recent dominance in PDP internal court battles—securing roughly 14 out of 15 favorable rulings in analyzed cases—has drawn attention to what the article satirically terms the 'Abuja advantage' and 'judicial hospitality': leveraging control over prime land, infrastructure projects, and judicial welfare schemes in the capital to create an environment where power, proximity, and perception intersect."
In the theatre of Nigerian political history, certain names dominate the marquee lights. Azikiwe got the airport. Awolowo got the statues. Ahmadu Bello got the reverence of an entire region. Tafawa Balewa got the tragedy of martyrdom. History, as usual, rewarded the dramatic and the deceased with suitable generosity. But lurking in the corridors of power, armed with elite connections, Savile Row suits, and the constitutional instincts of a man who had clearly read more than one law book, was Remilekun Fani-Kayode one of the First Republic's most sophisticated political operators, and one of its most thoroughly forgotten. Today, the Fani-Kayode name conjures images of fiery television appearances, combustible social media dispatches, and the particular rhetorical energy his son Femi brings to every available platform. But long before hashtags became a substitute for statesmanship, the elder Fani-Kayode was doing something considerably more difficult: trying to hold Nigeria together through elite negotiation in a federation that was, structurally speaking, a hostile inheritance dispute among suspicious cousins. He failed, as did everyone else. But the question he was asking how do you keep Nigeria together without anyone feeling cheated remains the one question no Nigerian government has successfully answered since independence.
