
There is a familiar pattern that emerges whenever pseudo academic political actors run out of substance: they reach for shadows, conjure phantoms, and invoke powerful names they cannot substantiate. This is precisely the spectacle currently unfolding around the Enugu State Government, the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN), and a politically abandoned former APC state chairman, Ugo Agballah. Instead of presenting verifiable evidence before a competent court of law regarding their long-paraded allegations of certificate forgery against Uche Nnaji, they have resorted to a tired and dangerous tactic—swinging fake news around supposed probes by federal agencies, particularly the ICPC.
In any democracy governed by the rule of law, allegations are proven with documents, witnesses, and judicial scrutiny—not press whispers, proxy propaganda, or phantom investigations. One must therefore ask: if the claims of forgery are genuine, why has there been no conclusive judicial process? Why the constant detours into media trials and the sudden appearance of “federal agency involvement” whenever the narrative begins to collapse?
The alleged tampering of Uche Nnaji’s academic records remains the Achilles’ heel—and indeed the Golgotha—of these political adventurers. That allegation, rather than being tested transparently in court, has been recycled endlessly in the public space, each time wrapped in a new layer of deceit. First, it was a dubious letter attributed to the Public Complaints Commission—later exposed as fake. Now, it is the ICPC, once again dragged into a political mud fight without any official confirmation or due process.
This reckless deployment of federal agencies as props in local political vendettas is not only irresponsible; it is corrosive to institutional credibility. Agencies like the ICPC are not tools for political survival, nor are they decorative stamps to legitimize fraud. When politicians casually invoke these bodies without evidence, authorization, or official communication, they undermine public trust and cheapen institutions meant to fight corruption, not manufacture it.
The desperation is even more glaring when one considers the calibre of the actors involved. A state government that should be focused on governance, development, and accountability is instead entangled in propaganda wars. A university vice-chancellor, custodian of academic integrity, is dragged into murky political narratives rather than defending the sanctity of records through established academic and legal channels. And a former party chairman, abandoned by relevance and political capital, appears eager to trade credibility for attention.
One must interrogate this obsession with shortcuts. Why the fear of courtrooms? Why the addiction to federal agency name-dropping? Why the persistent avoidance of sworn affidavits, forensic document examination, and judicial outcomes?
The answer is simple: desperation thrives where evidence is absent. These actors are clinging to quicksand—fabricated probes, forged letters, and media sensationalism—hoping it will hold. It will not. In the end, institutions will outlive propaganda, truth will outlast noise, and those who abuse the names of federal agencies to mask fraud will be buried by the very lies they manufactured.
By: Onyema Idoko
