
By Emeka Nnaji Jr
There is a saying in Akpugo that elders often repeat whenever a son brings public disgrace upon his people and yet appears completely oblivious of it. They say the mad man dancing naked at Oriemba market never feels ashamed of himself, but his kinsmen do. The mad man laughs loudly, beats his chest, and continues his strange dance as though nothing is wrong, utterly unaware of the embarrassment he has caused, while his people are left to pass through the same market with their eyes lowered, quietly enduring the humiliation that someone from their own kindred has turned himself into a public spectacle before the entire community.
That local saying has suddenly become painfully real for many sons and daughters of Akpugo today, because what we are experiencing at this moment mirrors exactly the kind of shame those elders spoke about.
Our son, Chief Uche Geoffrey Nnaji, the former Minister of Innovation, Science and Technology, has dragged the good name of Akpugo through the mud in a manner so appalling that it has now become a constant conversation, and the painful truth is that the disgrace echoes loudly across the country.
When the first murmurs of the certificate controversy surrounding Uche Nnaji began to circulate months ago, many of us in Akpugo initially dismissed the allegations as the usual mischief of Nigerian politics, where accusations are often peddled, sometimes driven by rivalry, jealousy, or the relentless struggle for power. After all, Nigerian political life is crowded with smear campaigns, and it is not unusual for public figures to be accused of things that later turn out to be exaggerated, distorted, or entirely fabricated.
But this particular story refused to fade away. Instead, it lingered stubbornly, gathering more evidence, and attracting more scrutiny in a way that made it increasingly difficult for any discerning observer to dismiss as mere political gossip.
For nearly two years, investigative journalists at Premium Times searched for documents, spoke with university officials, filed Freedom of Information requests, and examined records that had long been buried. As these revelations began to surface, the scandal exploded with extraordinary force. The shit literally hit the ceiling fan!
The entire country was stunned that the man entrusted with overseeing scientific research and technological innovation in Nigeria could find himself entangled in a scandal involving forged academic credentials, an irony that might have been amusing if it were not so embarrassing.
Even those who were prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt were thrown into confusion when, in a self-indicting overreach, he rushed to the Federal High Court in Abuja and filed a suit against UNN, with a sworn affidavit supporting his motion wherein he admitted that he had not been issued a degree certificate by UNN, even though a certificate bearing the university’s name had earlier been submitted by him to the Nigerian Senate during his ministerial screening. How then did he come into possession of the one he submitted to the Senate, many people asked?
To the credit of the federal authorities, rather than rushing to conclusions or reacting impulsively to the media storm, the presidency reportedly moved discreetly, dispatching a team of DSS officers directly from the Abuja headquarters to the UNN, where they conducted their own verification of academic records and examined the files connected with Uche Nnaji’s student history. The operatives reportedly examined the registry archives, scrutinized correspondences, and verified documentary evidence relating to his academic history. Their findings reportedly corroborated the mounting evidence that had already begun to surface in the public domain.
Once the facts had been assembled and verified, the information was reportedly relayed to the highest levels of government. When Uche Nnaji was subsequently summoned to Aso Rock, the outcome was his quiet exit from the seat of power as an ex-Minister. His purported resignation was widely interpreted as a move to save the image of the government before the scandal could inflict grave reputational damage on the administration both within Nigeria and in the eyes of the international community.
But the matter did not end there. The federal government set up an investigative panel under the Federal Ministry of Education to determine the truth once and for all. The panel did not rely on hearsay or political narratives. Members of the panel physically travelled to the UNN, where they examined the institution’s archives, reviewed Senate graduation lists, inspected registry movement logs and academic files, and interviewed university officials who were directly involved in keeping academic records.
When the panel eventually submitted its report, the conclusion was devastating. It found that our brother had indeed forged his UNN degree certificate, confirming earlier investigative findings which had already raised serious questions about the authenticity of the documents he submitted when he was nominated and confirmed as minister.
The records examined by the panel showed that although he had been admitted to study Biological Sciences at the UNN in the 1981/82 academic session, he never graduated from the university because he failed a core course, Virology (MCB 431). His name did not appear on the Senate-approved graduation list for the class of 1985, and correspondences found in his academic file showed that he was still communicating with the university in 1986, requesting for permission to retake the same failed course.
Yet somehow, despite these records, a certificate dated July 1985 surfaced, the very certificate he presented to the presidency and the National Assembly as proof that he had graduated from one of Nigeria’s most prestigious universities.
When the details of this investigation became public two weeks ago, the scandal again spread across the country like wildfire.
But for many of us in Akpugo, the shock went beyond the scandal itself. What worsened the embarrassment was the astonishing mediocrity of the inconsistencies surrounding the documents. If someone were attempting to deceive the entire country in such a serious matter, one would at least expect that the deception would be executed with careful attention to detail. Instead, what Nigerians saw were contradictions so glaring that even a primary school pupil could detect them without difficulty.
Imagine claiming to have graduated from university in July 1985 while records show that you wrote a letter in your own handwriting in 1986 applying to resit the exam for the same course that had prevented you from graduating. Imagine presenting an NYSC discharge certificate claiming that you began national service in April 1985, three months before the supposed graduation that made you eligible for service in the first place. The absurdity of such a claim leaves one wondering whether the basic chronology of university education and national service was ever considered in constructing that narrative.
But it got even worse. The NYSC certificate that was presented bore the signature of Colonel Animashaun Braimoh, who only served as Director-General of the National Youth Service Corps between 1988 and 1990, yet the certificate was supposedly issued in 1986.
Even the serial numbering exposed the forgery. NYSC certificates issued during that period were known to carry six-digit numbers without alphabetic characters, yet the certificate attributed to him carried the serial number A231309, complete with a letter prefix that did not exist in the numbering format of that period.
At that point, many of us in Akpugo began to ask a painful question. Who actually handled the contract for this forgery, and why was it done so carelessly?
For those of us who have known Uche Nnaji over the years, especially as Minister of the Federal Republic, always immaculately dressed in sparkling white attire, projecting confidence, speaking with bravado, and presenting himself as a man of class and sophistication, the revelations were shocking because they suggested a man operating at a surprisingly low, inept and dull-witted level.
It was not merely the allegation of forgery that hurt us the most, it was the clumsiness, the mediocrity, and the lack of intellectual rigour reflected in the inconsistencies that riddled it.
For a community like Akpugo that prides itself as one of the most human-resource rich communities in Nkanuland, perhaps even in Enugu State, the humiliation has been profound.
When the revelations exploded across the country, something unusual happened within our community. Akpugo WhatsApp groups fell silent. The chatter that usually fills our platforms disappeared almost immediately. Nobody seemed able to muster a convincing defence. Nobody could confidently explain what was happening. The silence itself spoke volumes.
Many of us expected that our son would at least address his people directly, perhaps by releasing a brief statement assuring us that the allegations were false and that he would clear his name.
Instead, a group of young men whom he had helped secure federal appointments suddenly emerged as his defenders, flooding social media with accusations against political enemies and elaborate theories about conspiracies orchestrated by opponents.
They blamed political enemies, they blamed Governor Mbah and anyone who could possibly be blamed, while leaving the the central question unanswered. But even if we assume that political rivalry played a role in exposing the matter, the question that still demands an answer is: Did Uche Nnaji forge the certificates or not?
The federal government’s investigative panel has already delivered its conclusion with findings that leave very little room for ambiguity, and the next logical outcome is arraignment and prosecution before a court of competent jurisdiction. Why that has not happened is a matter for lawyers to enlighten us on.
Yet what has been happening since then has been even more bewildering. Even by Nigerian standards, when a public figure is caught in a scandal of such magnitude, humility usually follows. The person withdraws from the spotlight, keeps a low profile, and allows time and reflection to restore whatever dignity remains. But what we are witnessing instead is a relentless attempt to project normalcy. An aggressive social-media campaign filled with praise songs, banners, and political slogans announcing grand ambitions for the future suddenly appeared everywhere, with posters declaring “Uche Ndi Enugu Ga Eme” and “Uche Nnaji for Governor 2027” circulating as though nothing had happened.
It leaves many observers wondering which political party would willingly entrust its governorship ticket to someone whose academic credentials have been publicly discredited in such a dramatic fashion. Even more troubling is that since the scandal erupted, Uche Nnaji himself has carefully avoided direct engagement with the press to answer questions on the certificate saga. At one point he invited journalists to a press conference but failed to appear, leaving proxies behind to answer questions they could not adequately address. Yet if there is anyone who can narrate the story of his academic records better than anyone else, it is Uche Nnaji himself.
This is why the situation pains many of us in Akpugo to the marrows of our bones. Our community has never been associated with this level of public scandal. Our elders often boast that Akpugo have it all. Our land has produced true legends and giants whose contributions have brought honour to our people. From distinguished military officers like Navy Commodore James Aneke, who once served as a military governor, and Colonel Anthony Obi, another respected former military governor, to national figures like Ogbonnaya Onovo, the first Igbo Inspector-General of Police, Akpugo has produced individuals whose careers were defined by excellence and integrity. The intellectual and spiritual leadership of Very Rev. Father Emmanuel Edeh, founder of Madonna University, Caritas University, and the Osisatech institutions, has shaped generations of students and professionals. Scholars such as Prof. Onyemaechi Ogbunwezeh, Prof. B. A. Okorie, Prof. Gozie Ogbodo (current Rector of the IMT Enugu), to mention but a few, have continued that tradition of academic excellence.
These men and women represent the values of hard work, honesty, discipline, and integrity that Akpugo holds dear. That is why this scandal hurts so much.
Our elders must call our son home, sit him down, and remind him that wherever he goes he carries the name of Akpugo with him, and that name must not be dragged through the mud of public scandal.
So with heavy hearts, we say to our son Uche Nnaji, Enough is Enough. Although we still love you as our own flesh and blood, although we can longer disown you, you must however be a man, face the truth and clear your name if you can. But please, do not continue to parade this disgrace before the world.
Because whether you feel the shame or not, your shame dey shame us!
- Nwobodo writes from Akpugo, Nkanu West LGA.
