Nigeria’s Senate President, Godswill Akpabio, has stirred controversy after publicly praising former Delta State governor James Ibori, a man once jailed in the United Kingdom for laundering tens of millions of pounds stolen from public funds.
During Wednesday’s plenary, Akpabio described Ibori as “a political colossus, a leader of leaders, and an amiable character” while welcoming him to the Senate chamber. The former governor had accompanied two newly sworn-in senators to witness their inauguration. “Let me start from Chief James Ibori,” Akpabio declared. “He is a political colossus, a leader of leaders, an amiable character, a man we all admire and respect.”
Akpabio even joked that senators would have given Ibori a standing ovation if not for Senate rules prohibiting applause during plenary sessions. “Sir, you’re welcome to the chamber of the 10th Senate of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. Unfortunately, we don’t clap here , we would have given you a standing ovation,” he said.
Ibori, who governed Delta State between 1999 and 2007, was convicted in the UK in 2012 after pleading guilty to 10 counts of fraud, conspiracy to defraud, and money laundering involving nearly £50 million. He served half of a 13-year prison sentence and was released around 2016.
Despite his conviction and continued asset forfeiture proceedings in the UK including a 2023 order to repay £101.5 million or face another eight years in jail, Ibori remains an influential figure in Delta politics.
The former governor’s political network has produced two successive governors and several lawmakers, including his daughter, Erhiatake Ibori-Suenu, now a member of the House of Representatives.
Analysis:
Akpabio’s effusive praise of James Ibori inside the Senate chamber speaks volumes about Nigeria’s enduring culture of political amnesia and elite solidarity. It reveals how, in the country’s corridors of power, conviction for corruption rarely erases influence, it often reinforces it.
Ibori’s return to the national stage, and the Senate President’s public celebration of him, reflect a disturbing normalization of corruption in Nigeria’s political narrative. For many observers, Akpabio’s words were not merely a courtesy to a political elder, they were a symbolic endorsement of impunity.
In a country where millions face economic hardship and public institutions struggle for credibility, such gestures risk deepening citizens’ cynicism toward government and the justice system. The optics are damaging: a lawmaker convicted abroad for stealing public funds being applauded even if silently by those entrusted with making laws at home.
Politically, Akpabio’s remarks can be seen as a calculated nod to Nigeria’s powerful political networks, where loyalty often outweighs morality. Both men share similar trajectories as former governors turned national power brokers and their alliance underscores how influence in Nigeria often survives scandal, trial, and even jail time.
Beyond personalities, the incident raises a bigger question: What message does the Senate send when it celebrates a man once found guilty of defrauding his state? For many Nigerians, it reinforces a painful truth that political rehabilitation in Nigeria does not require reform, only relevance.
