A big shadow of doubt is now cast on the Friday announcement of ceasefire between the Islamic extremist group, Boko Haram and the Nigerian military with the latest killings in the north-eastern part of Nigeria.
There have been at least five attacks since the cease fire was declared and more than a dozen people have been killed in the attacks.
General Alex Badeh, Nigeria's Defence chief of staff had announced the ceasefire agreement on Friday. He had added that the new development meant that the more than 200 schoolgirls abducted by Boko Haram in Chibok, about six months ago would be freed any time soon.
The announcement had been received with a mixed reaction of joy and doubt. Leading the group swallowing the story with a pinch of salt is the United State. They described the claim as a possible political propaganda.
U.S. officials who did not want their names in print, had pointed out that Shekau has denied negotiating with the Nigerian government. They had also pointed out that whenever the Nigerian government claimed to have reached any agreement with the sect, the response from the sect had always been a brutal attack.
Experts in U.S. and Nigeria had also noted that there was no official confirmation of a ceasefire from Boko Haram, questioning the credibility of the man whom Badeh claimed had acted as Boko Haram’s spokesman.
"I have never heard of such a man and if Boko Haram wanted to declare a cease-fire it would come from the group's leader Abubakar Shekau," said Shehu Sani, who had, at one time, negotiated with Boko Haram on behalf of Nigeria.
To add to the doubts, the federal government issued a statement shortly after the ceasefire announcement, stating that while it is engaged in talks with Boko Haram, no agreement has been reached to halt hostilities.
"We can confirm that there have been contacts between the government and representatives of Boko Haram," the National Information Center statement signed by Mike Omeri said.
"The discussions are essentially in relation to the general insecurity in the Northeast and also the need to rescue all captives of the terrorists, including the students of Government Girls Secondary School, Chibok.
“… From the discussions, they indicated their desire for and willingness to discuss and resolve all associated issues. They also assured that the schoolgirls and all other people in their captivity are all alive and well."
Some parents of the abducted girls, whose hope had already been raised by the ceasefire announcement, expressed great disappointment at the indications emerging that there really may have been no ceasefire.
"We were jubilating. We had every reason to be happy ... but since then the ceasefire has been broken in quite a number of places already," Lawan Abana, a parent of the one of the missing girls, told Reuters by telephone.
"Can we trust him that he can deliver on this promise of releasing the girls when he has not delivered on the promise of the ceasefire?"
There have also been suggestions from several quarters that the ceasefire announcement was only a political publicity stunt that was planned to herald the declaration of President Goodluck Jonathan’s re-election bid.
But the government insists that the attacks may not have been Boko Haram but one of several criminal groups exploiting the chaos of its insurgency, since there are strong evidences that the sect is heavily factionalised.
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The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) has declared a former Minister of Humanitarian Affairs Sadiya Farouq, wanted over alleged diversion of public funds, abuse of office and alleged criminal conspiracy.
The EFCC posted the notice on its website on Saturday.
“The public is hereby notified that Sadiya Umar Farouq, whose photograph appears above, is wanted by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission in an alleged case of criminal conspiracy, abuse of office, and diversion of public funds,” the EFCC wrote.
According to the anti-graft agency, those with relevant information can reach the commission’s offices in Ibadan, Uyo, Sokoto, Maiduguri, Benin, Makurdi, Kaduna, Ilorin, Enugu, Kano, Lagos, Gombe, Port Harcourt, or Abuja, or call 08093322644, or email
She was the minister of humanitarian affairs, disaster management and social development under the administration of ex-President Muhammadu Buhari from 2019 to 2023.
The latest development came weeks after a court issued a warrant of arrest against her and a permanent secretary in the ministry, Bashir Alkali.
Justice Jude Onwuegbuzie of the Federal Capital Territory High Court issued the warrant of arrest over their inability to attend court for their arraignment on a charge linking them to an alleged fraud involving $1.3 million and N746.6 million.
Justice Onwuegbuzie issued the arrest warrant while ruling on an ex parte motion filed by the EFCC prosecution counsel, Rotimi Jacobs (SAN), after the two defendants failed to appear in court for their planned arraignment.
The anti-corruption agency had filed a 21-count charge against them, accusing the duo of criminal breach of trust, fraudulent award of contracts, abuse of office, and diversion of public funds.
According to the EFCC, the defendants were involved in the alleged mismanagement and diversion of $1,300,000 and N746,574,303.
They were said to have allegedly converted $1.3 million meant to be refunded to the ministry by a company. The funds were said to be excess payments under the National Social Safety Net Coordinating Office programme for validating Rapid Response Register beneficiaries.
The EFCC counsel said the charges were filed on December 15, 2025, but the first and second defendants have not been available for arraignment.
French energy major, TotalEnergies is preparing to announce a long delayed Final Investment Decision (FID) on the Ima gas field after nearly three years of negotiations with its junior partner, Amni International, according to senior industry sources familiar with the talks. Huhuonline.com understands that the decision, expected as early as July 2026, marks the company’s most significant upstream commitment in Nigeria since it began aggressively pruning its onshore and shallow water oil portfolio.
The move comes at a delicate moment for Nigeria’s energy sector, where international oil companies (IOCs) have spent the past decade divesting from high risk oil assets while deepening their focus on deepwater and gas centric projects. TotalEnergies has been at the forefront of this shift, selling multiple onshore blocks and repeatedly signaling that its future in Nigeria lies in gas, LNG, and lower carbon offshore developments. The Ima field, gas rich, commercially viable, and located in shallow offshore waters, fits squarely into that strategy.
TotalEnergies’ expected FID does not represent a reversal of its divestment policy. Instead, it underscores a more nuanced approach: exit oil heavy, high risk assets; double down on gas focused, lower carbon projects and partner with indigenous operators to reduce exposure. Amni International’s co ownership of the Ima field has been central to unlocking the deal. By sharing operational and community management risks with a Nigerian partner, TotalEnergies can invest without inheriting the full burden of Niger Delta volatility. The Petroleum Industry Act (PIA) has also helped. The law’s clearer fiscal terms for gas development have removed some of the regulatory uncertainty that previously deterred investment.
Why the Ima FID Matters for Nigeria
If confirmed, the FID would be a rare bright spot for Nigeria’s upstream sector, which has struggled with declining oil output, stalled deepwater investments, IOC divestments, and chronic underinvestment in domestic gas supply. A new gas project from a major IOC could boost feedstock for power generation, support industrial gas demand, strengthen Nigeria LNG’s long term supply base, and signal to global investors that Nigeria remains investable under the right conditions. It also aligns neatly with Abuja’s “Decade of Gas” agenda, which has so far produced more rhetoric than results.
The implications for TotalEnergies’ divestment policy are many and varied. To begin with, gas is now the centre of gravity. The Ima project reinforces the company’s global pivot toward gas and LNG. Nigeria remains strategically important—but only for the right type of assets. Secondly, success at Ima could accelerate TotalEnergies’ exit from legacy oil blocks, freeing capital for gas centric developments. Thirdly, IOC–local partnerships are the new model. If Ima works, other majors may replicate the structure: local operator plus IOC capital plus gas focused asset, equals to viable investment. Lastly, Nigeria’s regulatory reforms are finally gaining traction.
The PIA’s gas incentives appear to be doing what years of policy drafts could not: attracting fresh IOC commitments. Negotiations between TotalEnergies and Amni International have dragged on since 2023, slowed by ownership and operatorship questions, fiscal clarifications under the PIA, global portfolio reshuffling by TotalEnergies, and Nigeria’s shifting regulatory environment. The breakthrough suggests that both sides now see the commercial and political stars aligning.
The Bottom Line
TotalEnergies’ expected FID on the Ima gas field is more than a routine upstream announcement. It is a strategic signal: first, the French major is not abandoning Nigeria—it is re shaping its footprint. Second, gas, not oil, will define the next chapter of IOC investment. Third, Nigeria’s energy future increasingly depends on selective, lower risk, gas driven partnerships rather than broad IOC engagement. If the FID is announced in July, it will be the clearest indication yet that Nigeria’s gas narrative is finally beginning to convert into concrete investment.
Business
In The Spotlight
There are few miracles in Nigerian politics, but Goodluck Jonathan once performed one. In 2015, after losing a fiercely contested election, he conceded defeat peacefully and handed over power without dragging the republic through the familiar swamp of judicial acrobatics, military whispers, and elite sabotage. In a political culture where incumbents often cling to office with the emotional desperation of passengers clinging to the last bus before curfew, Jonathan did something startlingly civilized: he left.
That single act elevated him from ordinary politician to something rarer - a statesman.
It is therefore mildly tragic, and faintly absurd, to watch whispers of a 2027 presidential comeback gathering around him like retired musicians attempting one reunion concert too many. Nigeria, apparently incapable of allowing former presidents to enjoy retirement in peace, has once again produced the ritual procession of flatterers, coalition merchants, and political undertakers disguised as supporters, chanting that only Jonathan can “save Nigeria.” Save it from what exactly? Its addiction to recycling old politicians? The former president’s response: “I’ve heard you, I will consult widely” has only intensified the speculation. One suspects that sentence was intended as polite ambiguity. In Nigerian politics, however, ambiguity is treated as a blood oath.
This is unfortunate, because there is almost no conceivable scenario in which a Jonathan comeback improves either Nigeria’s politics or Jonathan’s legacy. Indeed, the danger is precisely the opposite. Having exited office with unusual grace, Jonathan now risks returning to politics long enough to discover the cruelest law of public life: history is kinder to those who know when to leave the stage. There is a reason Nelson Mandela served one term. A reason George Washington declined a monarchical presidency. A reason many respected statesmen avoid the temptation of resurrection campaigns. Retirement, properly managed, can elevate political figures into national symbols rather than partisan combatants. Jonathan’s greatest political asset today is not electoral machinery or populist fervor. It is dignity. And dignity, once dragged back into Nigeria’s electoral trenches, tends to emerge badly bruised.
The constitutional argument alone is enough to turn a 2027 bid into a legal soap opera. Lawyers are already sharpening clauses like machetes over whether Jonathan, having completed Yar’Adua’s tenure before winning his own in 2011, remains eligible under the post-2018 constitutional amendments. The matter may eventually be decided in court, but the mere existence of such litigation is politically toxic and poisonous. No former president seeking to preserve a statesmanlike aura should voluntarily reduce himself to arguing eligibility technicalities before weary judges while supporters scream outside court premises. A man once praised globally for strengthening democratic consolidation in Nigeria should not spend his retirement debating term arithmetic.
But the deeper objection is political rather than legal. Jonathan’s admirers speak as though Nigeria suffers from a shortage of former leaders. On the contrary, Nigeria suffers from an excess of political recycling. Every electoral cycle increasingly resembles a reunion tour of familiar faces insisting they alone possess the sacred recipe for national salvation. The country’s political elite moves in circles so tight that one half expects INEC eventually to issue reusable ballot papers.
Jonathan’s potential candidacy would not signal democratic renewal. It would signal elite exhaustion.
Moreover, the mythology surrounding his presidency has grown considerably kinder with time than it was during his actual tenure. Memory is a generous editor. Today, many Nigerians recall Jonathan as calm, accessible, and comparatively tolerant. They forget the paralysis, the corruption scandals, the incoherent energy policy, the Boko Haram escalation, the fuel subsidy chaos, and the administration’s astonishing talent for appearing simultaneously overwhelmed and incompetent. This is not to say Jonathan was uniquely bad. Nigerian presidencies are rarely judged against Scandinavian standards. But nostalgia is not governance. The fact that subsequent governments disappointed many Nigerians does not automatically transform every predecessor into a misunderstood genius.
And politics, unlike archaeology, punishes those who disturb buried evaluations. Jonathan currently occupies an enviable global niche. He is Africa’s “good loser”- the former incumbent praised in diplomatic conferences and democracy forums as evidence that peaceful transitions are possible on the continent. He chairs observation missions, delivers keynote speeches about democratic norms, and enjoys the soft prestige reserved for elder statesmen who no longer need to chase office. It is a remarkably comfortable arrangement. Why jeopardize it?
There is an old legal maxim: interest reipublicae ut sit finis litium - it is in the public interest that there be an end to litigation. Nigerian politics might benefit from a companion principle: it is in the republic’s interest that former presidents eventually discover hobbies. The danger for Jonathan is not merely losing an election. Losing is survivable; he has already done so honorably once. The danger is that a comeback campaign would inevitably drag him into the swampy tribalism, propaganda, factional horse-trading, and political bitterness that now define Nigeria’s electoral ecosystem. He would cease being a father of the nation and become merely another potential sore loser in the national wrestling match. Statesmanship would give way to survival politics.
And for what reward? Suppose, against all odds, he wins. He would inherit a deeply polarized country, a battered economy, fiscal pressures, regional suspicions, security crises, and a political class even more transactional than the one he left behind. He would spend his years in office battling expectations inflated by nostalgia and supporters convinced that resurrection automatically guarantees redemption.
But suppose he loses. Then the symbolism changes completely. The statesman who once exited gracefully becomes the retiree who returned unnecessarily. The global reputation carefully polished over a decade risks collapsing into the far less flattering image of another African former leader unable to resist the gravitational pull of power.
Politics is littered with distinguished figures who stayed too long. The tragedy is rarely immediate. It unfolds gradually, through diminished stature, needless controversies, and the quiet erosion of public affection. Jonathan should resist the seduction of applause from political pilgrims urging him to “save Nigeria”. Nigerian politicians frequently urge retired leaders to return not because the nation requires them, but because factions require a vehicle. Today’s chants of loyalty are often tomorrow’s strategic abandonment. He should remember that history has already granted him something rare: a respectable exit. That is no small achievement in a republic where too many politicians view retirement the way medieval monarchs viewed abdication; with existential horror.
There is life after the presidency. In fact, for many leaders, the presidency is the least dignified chapter of their public biography. Jonathan’s post-office years have arguably strengthened his reputation more than his years in office ever did. He became larger after leaving power because he stopped fighting desperately to keep it. He should not reverse that lesson now. The wisest service Jonathan can render Nigeria in 2027 may not be another candidacy, but restraint itself; a demonstration that democratic leadership includes knowing when one’s role has changed from contender to custodian. Nigeria does not need another comeback tour masquerading as national rescue. It needs stronger institutions, fresher leadership, and a political culture capable of imagining a future beyond the permanent recycling of familiar surnames. Jonathan already made history once by leaving. He should be careful not to damage that achievement by trying, unnecessarily, to return.
Opinions
In The Spotlight
Perhaps. We have heard from Senate President Godswill Akpabio many times, sometimes in strange ways, including embarrassment, such as when he could not pronounce a number he had written down and brought into the chamber.
There have been gaffes of various dimensions, indicating a man who arrived unarmed.
But perhaps his most distressful utterance came recently when he declared that under his leadership, the legislative arm of the government is behind the President Bola Tinubu “2000%.”
Mathematically-speaking, there is no such thing, of course. But Akpabio simply wanted the president to be assured that he has consolidated the legislative arm as a department of the executive.
The Senate President was speaking at the commissioning of a piece of infrastructure in Lagos, but he clearly intended to be understood more broadly.
“We are 2000 per cent behind him, and we will make sure that your son returns a hero after he has delivered the dividends of democracy to Nigeria,” he told the people of Lagos.
This is a confirmation that the legislature is in this for the ruling APC to remain in power, not to serve the Nigerian people, including providing oversight.
In Akpabio’s hands, the National Assembly has emerged as a bumbling playground and the most indolence and complacent legislature in the Fourth Republic.
Elsewhere during the past 12 years, I have drawn attention to the Akpabio issue, flagging his greed in 2014, and in 2023, his place in the dearth of credibility in the Tinubu era.
In Akpabio’s hands, the Electoral Act 2026 has been put in place more as a tool for guaranteeing APC continuation in power than for Nigeria enjoying credible elections.
Around the world, there is growing concern that Nigeria may be heading towards even worse elections than it experienced not only in 2023, but at any time since the beginning of the Fourth Republic nearly three decades ago.
African Arguments last week cited Nigeria’s Road to Undemocratic Elections in 2027, warning that Nigeria is engineering an “uncompetitive 2027 election through legal, institutional, and judicial capture” with accountability coverage conspicuously absent.
In the United States, lawmakers are moving to slash aid to Nigeria by 50%, concerned that the Tinubu administration is “spending millions lobbying Congress while failing to adequately address the genocide Nigerian Christians face daily.”
It is yet another reminder that the election ahead will be deeply challenged by Nigeria’s most pre-eminent problem, one that the ruling party appears to embrace..
The bill specifically cites failure to prosecute perpetrators of violence and protect civilians. The truth is that Nigeria specialises in protecting and elevating her criminals, especially the biggest. While EFCC and ICPC are currently pointing fingers at the judiciary for delays in the prosecution of corruption cases, for instance, they never mention their own complicity, for which judges berate them all the time.
Consider that in October 2025, for instance, Akpabio tried to rephrase the anti-corruption stakes in which he is involved, calling on the EFCC to publish reports of all petitions investigated, especially politically motivated ones found to be frivolous, because Nigerians always assume petitions mean conviction or crime, particularly for politicians.”
This sound like a reasonable argument but only because the Senate never demands the annual report of that agency, which would automatically include such cases.
And that explains Dataphyte’s recent scandalous finding of a 60% futility rate in 393 public corruption cases reviewed between 2013 and 2026, underscoring a pattern of systemic non-consequence for powerful people while the anti-corruption agencies celebrate “recoveries.”
That permits the wrong people to overrun Nigerian politics, corrupting and corroding everything in their path.
Keep in mind: in that same October 2025, the Senate curiously considered a motion to praise the EFCC, Akpabio speaking of the EFCC undertaking “more than 10,000 convictions.”
That figure is fake, and I challenge the EFCC, or Akpabio, to publish the list.
But that is the background to the Electoral Act 2026, irresponsibly shoved into play by Akpabio’s Senate with the “manual transmission” proviso allowing results to revert to paper-based collation if technology fails. It has been dismissed by opposition parties and civil society as a legalised manipulation loophole ahead of 2027.
In February, Yiaga Africa’s Samson Itodo wrote about the threats to the forthcoming elections. He was encouraged by the declaration of INEC Chairman Joash Amupitan on the five non-negotiable pillars that would guide the commission’s work.
But talk is cheap, and Professor Amupitan’s words have proved to be the cheapest, as he was thereafter irredeemably exposed as a possible APC plant in Nigeria’s electoral prospects, including being blackmailed, which he has not denied.
He has resisted calls to resign, as is often the case in Nigeria, further weakening INEC and the prospects of credible elections.
Predictably, President Tinubu has also ignored opposition calls for him to remove Amupitan, confirming what appears to be a plan.
If these things have happened in public, what other maneuvers are taking place behind the scenes?
How does a citizen find faith, for instance, in the fact that President Tinubu assented to his ₦58.18 trillion 2026 budget on April 17 but that it is still unpublished, three weeks later?
Is Nigeria’s 2027 election settled before it has been run?
Consider that five opposition governors defected to APC within six months; courts have reshaped PDP, LP, and ADC leadership at politically sensitive moments; the legalized manipulation loophole; the collapse of the ADC-led coalition, leading to the emergence of the newly registered Nigeria Democratic Congress, all before Tinubu has even declared he will run again.
In normal times, Tinubu’s candidature would be so weak as to be untenable. He came into office as a compromised political entity, locally and internationally; has performed atrociously in office; and continues to provide more embarrassment than inspiration for the average Nigerian.
He has forgotten both the APC manifesto and his own Renewed Hope agenda, driving Nigeria into greater indebtedness and insecurity, and deeper into corruption, poverty, and division.
There is something else: in 2023, Tinubu declared himself unfit for a second term if he failed to resolve the national electricity conundrum during his first term.
This is a self-evaluation and disqualification that extends to his overall performance. That promise is a valuable cudgel that exists inescapably on video and audio, and ought to be on every Nigerian’s phone.
Actually, Tinubu ought to have said that if he failed, he would resign or decline to run. But instead, he asked people not to vote for him, suggesting he recognised the manipulation loophole and the Amupitan card.
No, the problem with defeating Tinubu is not Tinubu himself. It is whether the individual egos within the opposition believe more in themselves than in Nigeria.
Because Nigerians simply need to be assisted to implement what Tinubu himself has already identified as the right and respectable option in February: reject incompetence.
It is a 100% opportunity.
Sonala Olumhense
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