PHOTO:Mr Peter Obi
By: Daniel Kanu
In the marketplace of ideas, allegations are cheap. Evidence is not.
And when public figures trade in accusations they cannot defend, they risk exposing not just their targets, but themselves.
Last year, activist and lawyer Deji Adeyanju publicly accused former presidential candidate of the Labour Party, Mr Peter Obi, of corruption and other laughable, unspecified malpractices.
The claims, amplified across social media and news platforms, were serious enough to demand proof.
They struck at the heart of Obi’s reputation — a political brand largely built on prudence, transparency (go and verify) and fiscal discipline.
Obi’s response was neither theatrical nor combative. He simply asked Adeyanju to either retract the allegations and apologise or be prepared to defend them in court.
It was a straightforward proposition: substantiate your claims with evidence or withdraw them.
Adeyanju chose defiance — at least initially.
He declared he would not back down.
But when the matter moved from the noisy arena of social media to the sobering halls of the courtroom, the script appeared to change.
Faced with the legal obligation to present facts rather than hashtags, Adeyanju reportedly declined to fully pursue or substantiate his claims in court.
The man who had spoken loudly, loquaciously in public suddenly grew quiet when evidence was required.
That silence speaks volumes.
Activism is not licence for recklessness.
In a democratic society, dissent is vital, scrutiny is healthy and criticism of public officials is necessary. But responsible activism must be anchored in facts.
Without evidence, allegations become defamation.
Without proof, outrage becomes performance.
When an accuser retreats at the point of accountability, credibility suffers.
Adeyanju’s refusal to robustly defend his claims in court has inevitably raised questions about whether those claims were ever grounded in verifiable facts.
If the accusations were solid, the courtroom would have been the perfect platform to lay them bare.
Courts demand proof — and proof is the currency of truth.
Instead, what Nigerians witnessed was a gradual fading from the public radar.
The once-vocal critic appeared to go underground, no longer pressing the allegations with the same fervour.
For many observers, the retreat suggested not strategy, but surrender.
This episode underscores a larger concern in Nigeria’s political discourse: the growing culture of trial-by-media.
Social platforms can amplify unverified claims at lightning speed, damaging reputations long before due process has its say. Yet when legal scrutiny arrives, some accusers shrink from the very standards they claim to uphold.
An activist’s legitimacy rests on moral authority.
That authority is strengthened by consistency, courage and commitment to truth — even when truth must be tested under oath.
When those qualities falter, the activist label begins to look more like branding than conviction.
Critics argue that Adeyanju’s conduct in this matter reflects a troubling pattern in contemporary political commentary — a tendency to weaponise allegations for relevance, attention or alignment.
Whether fair or not, such perceptions thrive when bold public claims are not matched with courtroom resolve.
No public figure, including Peter Obi, should be immune from scrutiny. But scrutiny must be evidence-based.
If accusations are made, they must be defended with facts. If they cannot be defended, integrity demands retraction.
In the end, the lesson here extends beyond two individuals.
It is a reminder that accountability cuts both ways.
Those who accuse must also be prepared to answer.
In politics and activism alike, credibility once lost is not easily regained.
Adeyanju lost my respect.
