-by- AMECHI. P
When a presidential aide like Bayo Onanuga takes to X to sling mud at Senator Ali Ndume, calling him “allergic to facts” and “addicted to theatrics,” you’d expect a masterclass in evidence-based rebuttal.
Instead, we got a petulant, personal attack that reeks of unprofessionalism and betrays an unsettling disdain for the glaring truth Ndume dared to voice.
Onanuga’s broadside isn’t just unethical—it’s a textbook case of shooting the messenger when the message hits too close to home.
Let’s rewind. Ndume, the Borno South senator, went on Arise TV’s Prime Time on April 7, 2025, and pointed out what many Nigerians have whispered for months: President Bola Tinubu’s appointments don’t reflect the diversity mandated by Section 14(3) of the 1999 Constitution. That’s the federal character clause, for those who need a refresher—a bedrock principle meant to ensure no region or group dominates the levers of power.
Ndume didn’t pull this out of thin air; he’s echoing a critique that’s bubbled up from civil society, opposition figures, and everyday citizens watching key posts stack up with familiar faces from certain corners of the country.
Enter Onanuga, Tinubu’s Special Adviser on Information and Strategy, who on April 8 fired back via X with a post dripping in sarcasm and spite. He didn’t just dispute Ndume’s claim—he branded it “hypocrisy” and “selective perception,” accusing the senator of grandstanding while ignoring that two of his “kinsmen” scored top gigs at the Nigerian National Petroleum Company Limited (NNPC).
The NNPC chairman, Onanuga crowed, is from Ndume’s own senatorial district. Checkmate, right? Not quite.
Here’s where the ethics collapse. Onanuga’s response sidesteps the core issue—whether Tinubu’s broader appointment pattern aligns with federal character—and pivots to a gotcha moment that’s as flimsy as it is irrelevant.
Ndume never denied Borno got a few nods; his point was about the national picture, not his backyard. By zeroing in on two NNPC slots, Onanuga cherry-picks a convenient outlier to dodge the harder question: does the administration’s roster, from ministers to agency heads, reflect Nigeria’s mosaic? Data suggests it doesn’t.
A quick tally shows the southwest, Tinubu’s home turf, holding a disproportionate share of high-profile roles—think Finance, Justice, Works—while other zones, like the northeast, scrape by with scraps. Ndume’s not wrong to call that lopsided.
Worse, Onanuga’s tone crosses a line. Labeling a senator “allergic to facts” isn’t an argument—it’s a playground taunt. This isn’t some random X troll; it’s a senior official representing the presidency. Public servants, especially those in Onanuga’s perch, owe Nigerians a higher standard: engage the critique, bring receipts, and skip the name-calling.
Instead, he opts for character assassination, implying Ndume’s just a headline-chasing rabble-rouser. That’s not a defense of Tinubu’s record—it’s a tantrum meant to intimidate and deflect.
The unprofessionalism compounds when you consider the power imbalance.
Ndume’s a legislator doing his job—holding the executive accountable, as the Constitution demands. Onanuga’s a mouthpiece for the most powerful office in the land, wielding influence that dwarfs a single senator’s.
To punch down with such venom isn’t just petty; it’s a signal that dissent, even from within the ruling party, will be met with venom over reason.
That’s a chilling precedent for a democracy already straining under mistrust.
Let’s be real: Ndume’s no saint. He’s a politician with his own baggage and motives. But his critique isn’t baseless, and Onanuga knows it. The federal character principle isn’t a suggestion—it’s a legal and moral guardrail against tribalism.
If Tinubu’s team can’t handle that conversation without resorting to insults, they’re not just unprofessional—they’re scared of the truth.
Nigerians deserve better than a presidency that swats at facts like flies instead of facing them head-on. Onanuga’s attack doesn’t bury Ndume; it exposes a deeper rot.
