By Harriet Tornguvan
For several months, Nigeria’s immediate past Attorney General and Minister of Justice, Abubakar Malami, SAN, has been at the centre of intense public scrutiny following allegations linked to investigations by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC).
The claims, widely circulated in the media, ranged from terrorism financing and missing trillions of naira from the Abacha loot to the alleged theft of $67 billion through a so-called “golden crude” scheme and the operation of multiple suspicious bank accounts.
These allegations were repeatedly presented in public discourse as established facts, generating widespread outrage and creating the impression of an imminent prosecution of historic proportions.
Long before formal charges were filed, the narratives had taken firm root in the public space, effectively subjecting Malami to what many observers described as a trial by the media.
However, when the EFCC eventually filed charges in court, the scope of the case appeared significantly narrower than earlier claims suggested. Malami and his co-defendants were arraigned on counts bordering on money laundering, including allegations of concealment, control, acquisition and conspiracy relating to proceeds of unlawful activity, as well as transactions involving properties in Abuja and other locations.
While the charges are serious and carry legal consequences, notable omissions have drawn public attention. The charge sheet contains no reference to terrorism financing, no allegation of missing trillions of naira from the Abacha loot, and no mention of the much-publicised $67 billion “golden crude” claim. Equally absent are specific counts relating to alleged fraudulent disposal or auction of assets, which had dominated public commentary for months.
The absence of these allegations in the formal charges has raised questions about the gap between the narratives presented to the public and the case now before the court. Critics argue that allegations of such gravity should not be amplified without being firmly anchored in prosecutable evidence.
Malami has consistently denied wrongdoing and rejected what he describes as a media-driven prosecution. He maintains that the filing of charges in court marks an opportunity for the issues to be resolved through due process rather than public speculation.
According to him, the widely circulated allegations of terrorism financing and missing trillions “collapsed upon the filing of charges,” as they were not reflected in the court documents.
The situation has reignited debate about the conduct of high-profile investigations and the balance between public interest and the presumption of innocence. Legal analysts note that terrorism financing is among the most serious offences under Nigerian law, with far-reaching legal and international implications.
Allowing such accusations to dominate public discourse without being pursued in court, they argue, risks undermining confidence in law enforcement institutions.
At the heart of the controversy is not the question of Malami’s guilt or innocence, which remains a matter for the court, but the broader issue of institutional credibility. Observers are asking whether allegations should be so forcefully promoted before they are tested by judicial scrutiny, and what accountability mechanisms exist when highly damaging claims are not sustained in court.
As the case proceeds, attention will shift to the courtroom, where evidence will be examined and arguments tested in line with the law. Nigerians will be watching closely, not only for the outcome of the trial, but also for answers to lingering questions about how the initial allegations were generated, communicated and later omitted from formal charges.
Ultimately, the case underscores the need for restraint, transparency and adherence to due process in the prosecution of public officials. While the law must take its course, many believe that institutions owe the public clarity when high-profile accusations evolve so dramatically between investigation and prosecution.
