By Sa’adiyyah Adebisi Hassan
In the sacred hallways of academia, professors are custodians of truth. They deal in evidence, not impulse. In facts, not feelings. So, when a public intellectual like Farooq Kperogi chooses gossip over grounded reporting, speculation over source-verification, and Facebook likes over academic integrity he doesn’t just stumble, he crashes the very podium he once stood on.
And now, the aftermath has arrived not in the form of clarity, but in the costume of a half-hearted apology.
Kperogi’s rebrand: From analyst to apologist
Days ago, Farooq Kperogi served Nigerians a scandalous tale: that the late President Muhammadu Buhari and former First Lady Aisha Buhari had divorced before his death, and that Aisha only visited him in his final hours after “intense persuasion.”
No documentation. No direct quote. No credible confirmation. Just a “source with unimpeachable integrity” that he now admits never meant for the information to be public.
And then, like a magician caught mid-trick, he offers an apology. Not because the facts changed. But because the backlash became unbearable.
That is not journalism. That is cowardice dressed in remorse.
The apology no one asked for:
Kperogi’s so-called apology is littered with contradiction:
“My source is unimpeachable…but I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“The information is accurate…but the First Lady’s truth is supreme.”
“I had no ill motive…but I published a story that publicly questions a widow’s dignity.”
This isn’t accountability. It’s damage control. He’s trying to salvage a reputation that his own arrogance torched.
When a man claims he has access to secret truths, publishes them without consent, and then retreats behind a curtain of “I’m only human” he’s not being honest. He’s being manipulative.
The real damage: Weaponising grief
Let’s remember the core cruelty here: a woman had just lost her husband. A president had just passed. The nation was in mourning. And while Nigerians were navigating a wave of reflection, Farooq Kperogi saw an opportunity to sow division, cast doubt, and feed cynicism.
He didn’t just question the state of a marriage, he weaponised a funeral to push a narrative. He politicised personal pain and repackaged it as “exclusive insight.” That’s not journalism. That’s tabloid behavior in a tweed jacket.
Professor or parody?
It is time we stop pretending that verbosity equals credibility.
For too long, Kperogi has masked his bias behind polished grammar. He’s used academic prestige as a battering ram to push unverified opinions. And like many who fall in love with their own voice, he has confused eloquence for authority.
But now, stripped of the intellectual smoke and mirrors, we see him for what he has become: a cautionary tale of what happens when ego overtakes ethics.
To the public: Don’t be fooled again:
The real lesson here is not about Aisha Buhari. It’s not even about Buhari’s family.
It’s about discipline, restraint, and responsibility in public commentary.
If a professor with years of training can casually publish personal, unverifiable claims about a former First Lady at her lowest moment, what does that say about the state of informed discourse?
Kperogi wants us to believe that this was an “honest mistake.” But honest mistakes don’t come wrapped in sensationalism and ego. They come with humility from the start not only after public outcry.
Dear Professor Farooq Kperogi,
You may have written the apology, but you cannot unwrite the harm. You cannot undo the disrespect. You cannot silence the fact that in a time of grief, you chose gossip over grace.
You said you’re only human. We all are. But not all of us abuse our platforms in the name of “insight.”
Your credibility isn’t just on life support it’s already buried under the very lies you refused to verify.
And if this is the future of public commentary, where prestige permits propaganda, then perhaps it’s time we demand more from our so-called intellectuals.
Not more words.
Not more drama.
But more truth.
