By jacobEDI
Mallam Nasir El-Rufai has re-emerged on the national stage with his familiar intensity, and in a recent interview on Arise Television, the former Governor of Kaduna State made assertions of such gravity that they transcend partisan banter.
He alleged that the telephone of the National Security Adviser, Nuhu Ribadu, was intercepted and that he listened to conversations purportedly discussing plans to arrest or abduct him upon his return to Nigeria. When pressed by the interviewer, Charles Aniagolu, on the illegality of such interception, he reportedly acknowledged the infraction but rationalised it on the premise that government actors “also listen to our calls.” This is not trivial.
The principle of onus probandi, the burden of proof, is neither decorative nor discretionary. It is foundational to jurisprudence and civic order.
A former governor alleging criminal surveillance at the apex of Nigeria’s security architecture is not engaging in political theatre; he is levelling claims with constitutional, criminal and diplomatic ramifications.
If, as suggested, a private individual unlawfully tapped the line of a sitting NSA, the issue extends beyond personal grievance. It signals a potential breach of national security protocols.
More troubling still is the admission of benefiting from such interception. One cannot
simultaneously assume the posture of aggrieved victim and detached beneficiary of an acknowledged illegality. The law does not indulge moral equivalence.
In the same interview, El-Rufai alleged complicity by former Kano State governor, Abdullahi Umar Ganduje, in the 2019 disappearance of Abubakar Idris, known widely as Dadiyata. Ganduje has denied the allegation and countered that questions regarding the incident should be directed at El-Rufai, under whose governorship the disappearance occurred.
Here, too, conjecture cannot substitute for proof. Political rivalry may generate motive on
multiple sides, but courts adjudicate on evidence, not inference. Allegation without substantiation is not accountability; it is destabilising rhetoric.
There is, moreover, an unavoidable moral paradox. During his tenure in Kaduna, El-Rufai was repeatedly accused by critics of executive high-handedness. His administration was characterised by an assertive, sometimes abrasive, conception of state authority.
He defended that approach as necessary decisiveness in a volatile environment.
It is therefore difficult to reconcile that record with his current presentation as a sentinel against state overreach. The rule of law cannot be invoked selectively; moral consistency cannot be seasonal. This tension is not novel in his political evolution.
Former President Olusegun Obasanjo, under whom he served as FCT Minister, described him in his memoir as intellectually formidable yet temperamentally deficient, questioning his steadiness for higher office while acknowledging his technocratic competence.
Subsequent political fallouts with the late Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, with Goodluck Jonathan, and later shifts in
allegiance involving Muhammadu Buhari and Bola Ahmed Tinubu, reinforce the perception of a political career punctuated by rupture, often at moments of thwarted ambition.
Politics is inherently dynamic; alliances recalibrate. Yet when each rupture appears to coincide with personal disenchantment, public scepticism is inevitable. It becomes incumbent upon the principal actor to demonstrate that principle, not grievance, animates his dissent.
None of this forecloses the possibility of governmental excess. Democracies demand vigilance.
But vigilance is anchored in evidence. If El-Rufai maintains that institutions are weaponised
against him, he must submit his own claims and admissions to the same institutional scrutiny he demands of others.
For a statesman of his experience to make such disclosures on national television, while conveying an air of defiance, is disquieting.
He is sufficiently versed in the fragility of Nigeria’s security ecosystem to appreciate that public assertions of this magnitude reverberate beyond partisan contestation.
Undermining confidence in national security structures, whether advertently or inadvertently, carries implications far graver than personal rivalry.
Government’s response, therefore, must not be animated by vindictiveness but by duty; by the imperatives of precedent, deterrence and institutional integrity. If a telephone was indeed hacked, those responsible must be identified and subjected to due process. If the allegation is unfounded, that too must be established transparently.
El-Rufai should be required to disclose the identity of any individual who unlawfully accessed the NSA’s communications.
Likewise, both he and Ganduje must account fully for whatever knowledge they possess regarding the disappearance of Dadiyata since 2019. The unresolved
absence of a citizen cannot be reduced to a rhetorical device in elite political quarrels.
History has a way of retrieving buried testimonies.
Individuals such as Luka Binniyat, who
endured harsh and inhuman treatment under El-Rufai’s Kaduna, may yet add their voices to the broader narrative of power and accountability.
Nigeria deserves sobriety, not spectacle. Public confidence in state institutions is too delicate to
be imperilled by unguarded declarations. The integrity of the Republic must not be rendered vulnerable to rhetorical recklessness.
In the final analysis, the burden of proof rests where it has always rested; on the one who asserts.
JacobEDI is a public affairs commentator and strategist and writes from Abuja.
