Africa
A National Call for Rapid, Transparent Inquiry into Allegations Involving Sitting Senators -By Prof. John Egbeazien Oshodi
This is not an attack on Senator Ned Nwoko or Senate President Godswill Akpabio. It is a national demand for truth, transparency, and prevention. Nigeria has been warned by its own. Two women, both intimately connected to national power, have sounded the alarm. Their testimonies—whether fully accurate or emotionally driven—represent the pulse of a nation weary of silence. The time to act is now, not after tragedy demands explanation.
If These Warnings Are Ignored by the Police and DSS and Harm Follows, It Won’t Be Fate—It Will Be Failure
A Nation Confronted by Two Disturbing Reports
Nigeria is once again at a moment that tests the integrity of its institutions and the moral temperature of its leadership. Within a single week, two major newspapers published disturbing reports involving men who sit at the heart of our legislative authority. The Punch of October 18, 2025, carried an emotional story of distress and possible domestic violence surrounding Senator Ned Nwoko and his wife, Regina Daniels, who appeared distressed in a viral video saying she “could not stand the violence anymore.” Just three days earlier, the Premium Times of October 15, 2025, published explosive allegations from Pat Akpabio, sister-in-law to Senate President Godswill Akpabio, who accused him of being connected to unresolved killings in Akwa Ibom State during his time as governor.
These are not whispers of anonymous accusers or partisan actors; they come from women within the very bloodline and household of power. That alone lifts these stories beyond gossip. When pain emerges from within the private chambers of influence, it becomes a public matter. These women are not random citizens—they are witnesses to both proximity and consequence. Their outcry, whether rooted in verified fact or lived emotion, must be treated with the utmost seriousness. A democratic government that looks away at such a time sends the message that its sensitivity to violence ends where privilege begins.
Why the Government Must Act Immediately
Government inaction in the face of such grave reports would be a tragic abdication of duty. This is not a time for political silence, social media distractions, or bureaucratic delay. Nigeria’s Presidency and Police Force must act not after the storm, but before it breaks. Even if some allegations later prove false, the moral test is whether our institutions responded when danger was first signaled.
The failure to intervene early has cost this nation too many lives. We have buried victims of domestic abuse who cried for help that never came. We have seen political killings brushed aside as “speculation” until bodies appeared and families were silenced by fear. God forbid a tragedy should befall any of these women or others connected to these cases, and it is later discovered that authorities did nothing when public warnings first surfaced. That would not be fate—it would be a conscious failure of governance, a preventable loss born out of arrogance and moral fatigue.
In a democracy that aspires to maturity, no title, office, or immunity can justify indifference to credible risk. The rule of law must be equal, or it ceases to be law at all. The Nigerian government must act not just to protect individuals but to restore national faith that justice still breathes within our institutions.
Two Women, Two Proximities to Power
The most striking feature of these reports is that the alleged victims or whistleblowers are not outsiders—they are family. Regina Daniels speaks from the position of a wife whose life is intertwined with the personal and public identity of a lawmaker. Pat Akpabio speaks as a sister-in-law who once benefited from, and later challenged, the political empire of the Senate President. Their proximity gives their testimonies psychological weight. They are witnesses to the underside of power—where private emotions meet public authority.
It would be intellectually dishonest and socially dangerous to dismiss these cases as mere political vendettas or domestic disputes. Such explanations serve the interests of comfort, not truth. In patriarchal societies like ours, women close to powerful men rarely speak unless pain exceeds fear. The risk of public humiliation, retaliation, or loss of privilege is often enough to keep them silent. When they finally speak, their voices signal that something inside the structure has broken.
Even if their statements later face contestation, the responsible course is to treat them as alerts—as early warnings of possible harm or deeper social decay. Every healthy nation understands that women’s testimonies from within corridors of power often carry the first evidence of danger the public has not yet seen.
The Psychological and Social Cost of Silence
Silence in moments like this is not neutrality—it is a wound inflicted on the collective psyche of a people. When allegations of violence, sexual assault, or killings tied to high-ranking officials go uninvestigated, ordinary citizens internalize the message that justice in Nigeria is not blind but selective. The outcome is emotional erosion. Trust collapses. People begin to see morality as weakness and cruelty as strength.
Each ignored cry of distress reinforces the psychological pattern of helplessness. The public learns that suffering must be endured quietly, that the law is not a refuge but a weapon wielded by the powerful. Over time, this produces a traumatized population—cynical, fearful, and disconnected from civic engagement. It is the silent breakdown of social order, and it does not happen suddenly; it grows each time we let power rewrite reality.
Beyond psychology, the societal cost is measurable. Domestic violence that goes unchecked breeds generational trauma; children learn aggression as communication. Political killings that are never explained normalize impunity, encouraging future actors to repeat the pattern. These two stories, though separate, mirror a single sickness: the quiet acceptance of violence as the cost of influence.
A Direct Message to the President
President Bola Tinubu must not treat these developments as distant or trivial. These are not ordinary reports—they concern two serving members of the Nigerian Senate and involve alleged acts of domestic violence and killings. On an urgent, immediate basis, the President must direct the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) and the Department of State Services (DSS) to jointly review, verify, and act upon the emerging reports.
This is not about politics or perception management; it is about human lives and the integrity of national institutions. The involvement of the DSS is necessary because the individuals named are not private citizens—they are holders of sensitive state privileges, with security attachments and influence networks that could easily intimidate victims or compromise evidence. A combined NPF-DSS response would ensure both personal protection and the prevention of interference in any investigation.
The President’s silence or delay would send a troubling signal, both at home and abroad, that his administration lacks the moral courage to confront wrongdoing within its own circle. Nigeria’s democracy cannot afford the appearance of selective justice at a time when global attention is focused on issues of governance, gender violence, and institutional transparency. The world is watching. Every statement, every step, and every silence from the Nigerian leadership will be interpreted as a reflection of its moral capacity.
This is therefore a moment for leadership, not hesitation. The President must act now, not through committees or rhetoric, but through the full mobilization of the nation’s investigative institutions. Protect the women. Protect the truth. Protect the credibility of Nigeria’s democracy.
What Responsible Authorities Must Do
This is the time for Nigeria’s institutions to prove that they can act without waiting for public outrage or foreign pressure. The Inspector-General of Police should immediately order discreet yet transparent investigations into both reports. The task is not to humiliate or sensationalize, but to preserve lives and truth. Investigators must verify the authenticity of the viral video, collect statements from those present, and ensure that Regina Daniels receives access to safety, medical evaluation, and psychological counseling if needed.
Simultaneously, an independent review of the serious allegations raised by Pat Akpabio should be initiated—drawing from previous records, testimonies of affected families, and historical police files from Akwa Ibom. Even if the incidents are years old, the law does not expire where death and human suffering are concerned.
The Ministry of Women Affairs, NAPTIP, and the National Human Rights Commission should not wait to be petitioned. They have a moral and statutory obligation to intervene wherever there is a public indication of gender-based violence or abuse of power. These agencies can quietly provide safe channels, protection mechanisms, and trauma-informed counseling for anyone in distress.
The Presidency must speak clearly and swiftly—not with political evasions but with moral authority. It should affirm that Nigeria’s leaders are subject to the same moral and legal standards as its citizens. Likewise, the Senate must examine the potential ethical implications of these developments and show that the legislative body values integrity over silence.
The Deeper Meaning: Leadership, Violence, and Accountability
Leadership without accountability is psychological tyranny. The recent developments invite the nation to confront a painful truth: Nigeria’s political culture often treats power as insulation from consequence. But leadership, at its core, is not the avoidance of scrutiny—it is the embrace of responsibility. When men of power are confronted by allegations of harm, the first test of their honor is not how loudly they deny, but how quickly they invite transparency.
History remembers leaders not for the scandals that touched them, but for the honesty with which they confronted those scandals. In a society already worn down by economic stress, insecurity, and moral fatigue, every act of impunity deepens despair. Yet every act of accountability revives hope. The courage to investigate the powerful, to protect victims, and to speak the truth before tragedy strikes is what separates democracy from decay.
The Equal Standard of Justice
The true measure of justice is consistency. The same laws that govern ordinary citizens must govern those in power. A woman beaten by her husband in a village deserves the same protection as a woman married to a senator. A citizen accused of murder is interrogated and investigated; a senator facing similar allegations cannot be treated as untouchable.
Equality before the law is not an ideal—it is the oxygen of democracy. Without it, public faith dies and authority becomes a form of intimidation. Nigeria’s Police Force has often demonstrated efficiency when cases involve common citizens; that same energy must be applied here. The signal must be unmistakable: rank does not exempt anyone from investigation, and justice is not for sale.
Conclusion: Prevention Is Justice in Time
This is not an attack on Senator Ned Nwoko or Senate President Godswill Akpabio. It is a national demand for truth, transparency, and prevention. Nigeria has been warned by its own. Two women, both intimately connected to national power, have sounded the alarm. Their testimonies—whether fully accurate or emotionally driven—represent the pulse of a nation weary of silence. The time to act is now, not after tragedy demands explanation.
If the government, the police, and the Senate respond with transparency and compassion, they will have turned a potential crisis into a defining moment of national maturity. But if they remain silent and harm follows, the country cannot call it fate. It will be a failure of courage, of duty, and of conscience.
Democracy is not preserved by elections alone—it is protected by the daily defense of life and truth. When leaders are accused, the nation is on trial. Nigeria must show that the law serves everyone, that protection extends even to those who accuse the powerful, and that in the republic of human dignity, no one’s title is taller than justice itself.
About the Author
Prof. John Egbeazien Oshodi is an American psychologist and educator specializing in forensic, legal, clinical, cross-cultural psychology, public ethical policy, police, and prison science.
Born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, and the son of a 37-year veteran of the Nigeria Police Force, he has devoted his career to linking psychology with justice, education, and governance. In 2011 he pioneered the introduction of advanced forensic psychology in Nigeria through the National Universities Commission and Nasarawa State University, where he served as Associate Professor of Psychology.
He currently serves as contributing faculty in the Doctorate in Clinical and School Psychology at Nova Southeastern University; teaches in the Doctorate Clinical Psychology, BS Psychology, and BS Tempo Criminal Justice programs at Walden University; and is a virtual professor of Management and Leadership Studies at Weldios University and ISCOM University. He is President and Chief Psychologist at the Oshodi Foundation, Center for Psychological and Forensic Services, United States.
Prof. Oshodi is a Black Republican whose work promotes individual responsibility, community self-reliance, and institutional democracy. He is the founder of Psychoafricalysis (Psychoafricalytic Psychology)—a culturally grounded framework centering African sociocultural realities, historical consciousness, and future-oriented identity. A prolific scholar, he has authored more than 500 articles, several books, and numerous peer-reviewed works on Africentric psychology, higher education reform, forensic and correctional psychology, African democracy, and decolonized therapeutic models.
