By Onyema Idoko
There is a familiar pattern that emerges whenever pseudo-academic and political actors run out of substance: they retreat into shadows, manufacture phantoms, and invoke powerful institutions they cannot substantiate. That pattern is once again on display in the unfolding drama involving the Enugu State Government, the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Nigeria, Nsukka (UNN), Prof. Charles Igwe (Otuanya), and a politically isolated former APC state chairman, Ugo Agballah.
Rather than present verifiable evidence before a competent court of law to support their long-publicised allegations of certificate forgery against Chief Uche Nnaji, these actors have chosen a more dangerous route—peddling unverified claims of investigations by federal agencies, particularly the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC). It is a tired tactic, recycled whenever their narrative begins to collapse under the weight of scrutiny.
In any democracy governed by the rule of law, allegations are tested with documents, witnesses and judicial processes—not media whispers, proxy propaganda or phantom probes. This raises unavoidable questions: if the allegations are genuine, why has there been no conclusive judicial determination? Why the constant detours into media trials? And why does “federal agency involvement” suddenly surface whenever facts refuse to cooperate?
At the centre of this controversy is the persistent claim of tampering with Chief Uche Nnaji’s academic records—an allegation that has become both the Achilles’ heel and the Golgotha of its promoters. Instead of submitting this claim to transparent judicial examination, it has been endlessly recycled in the public space, each time wrapped in a fresh layer of deception. First came a letter allegedly from the Public Complaints Commission, later exposed as fake. Now, the ICPC is being dragged into the fray, again without any official confirmation, process or due diligence.
The reckless deployment of federal agencies as props in local political vendettas is not merely irresponsible; it is corrosive. Institutions like the ICPC are not instruments for political survival, nor are they decorative stamps to legitimise falsehoods. When politicians casually invoke these agencies without evidence or official communication, they erode public trust and cheapen institutions established to fight corruption—not to manufacture it.
The desperation becomes even more glaring when one considers the calibre of the actors involved. A state government that should be focused on governance and development is instead consumed by propaganda battles. A university vice-chancellor, entrusted with safeguarding academic integrity, is dragged into murky political narratives rather than defending the sanctity of academic records through established legal and institutional channels. And a former party chairman, long abandoned by relevance, appears willing to trade whatever credibility remains for fleeting attention.
These actions expose an unhealthy obsession with shortcuts. Why the fear of courtrooms? Why the addiction to name-dropping federal agencies? Why the persistent avoidance of sworn affidavits, forensic document examination and binding judicial outcomes?
The answer is simple: desperation flourishes where evidence is absent. Those involved are clinging to quicksand—fabricated probes, forged letters and media sensationalism—hoping it will hold. It will not. Institutions will outlive propaganda, truth will outlast noise, and those who abuse the names of federal agencies to mask falsehoods will ultimately be buried by the very lies they manufactured.
