Femi Adesina, former media adviser to President Muhammadu Buhari, claims in a ThisDay article that the President once shed tears in a private meeting in 2017.
The occasion? Buhari had just learned he was misled into approving a $10 million transaction that was not in Nigeria’s best interest, a decision connected to the Nigeria Bulk Electricity Trading (NBET) under the leadership of Marilyn Amobi. The story humanises Buhari and projects him as a leader moved by remorse. But beneath the tears lies a harder truth: Nigerians are conditioned to be moved by sentiment rather than institutional accountability. A tear from the President generates more public discourse than the corrupt systems that enabled such missteps in the first place.
Generally, tears may symbolise feelings of being overwhelmed in the workplace, but they do not signify effective governance. Crying is not an anti-corruption strategy. Emotion is not a substitute for ethical decision-making. Members of the WhatsApp group who confuse sentiment with accountability must stop.
The issue isn’t that Buhari was misled. The questions to debate are: what actions were taken after he became aware of the situation? Were those who manipulated the process held accountable? Was the $10 million recovered? Were procurement processes reformed or strengthened? Femi’s article offers no answers, instead, he leans on an emotional arc to soften public memory and frame Buhari’s image as caring and sincere. However, will these qualities make governance work for me and you?
Ethical leadership is not measured by how a leader feels but by how decisively they act in the face of wrongdoing. It requires the courage to correct mistakes and enforce consequences, especially when the stakes are high. Globally, we witness instances where leaders have faced accountability for transgressing ethical boundaries. President Park Geun-hye in South Korea faced impeachment in 2017 and jail in 2018 for allowing shadow advisers to influence state decisions. High-ranking officials in Botswana have been successfully prosecuted by the Directorate on Corruption and Economic Crime as part of the Corruption and Economic Crime Act (CECA), an effective accountability framework. Instead of resorting to sentiment or apologies, as is often the case in Nigeria, institutional action effectively addressed these issues.
Nigeria continues to prioritise emotional optics over ethical processes. Buhari’s administration was marred by financial crimes and corrupt procurement processes, selective enforcement by the judiciary and anti-corruption agencies, and unresolved questions about transparency, despite being the African Union’s Anti-Corruption Champion.
åΩåΩSo if a President discovers he was misled into signing away public funds yet takes no public corrective action, Nigerians must question the system, not just the man. The civil servant in the picture, according to the article, Marilyn Amobi, did what public officers are expected to do: document concerns, follow procedure, and raise red flags in a high-stakes environment.
However, another day we will discuss how history will be fair to her or judge her actions, given there are other documented experiences of her corruption allegations. But amplifying her courage should have been a key point to focus on. Programmes like Integrity Icon Nigeria also exist to name and fame such public servants who uphold ethics amid pressure. These are the role models our public discourse should elevate, not emotional anecdotes that shield power from scrutiny.
I think Femi, in telling this story, missed that point. Yes, he’s entitled to his perspective, but he chose to focus on Buhari’s tears instead of highlighting a trendsetter of institutional integrity. In a country where breaches of the Public Service Rules, Procurement Act, and the Code of Conduct happen on a daily basis, the experience was a chance to celebrate the courage to do what’s right. Instead, sentiment took centre stage. Rather than using this story to advocate for ethical reform or to challenge the culture of impunity that enables public sector mismanagement, Femi framed it around personal emotion. In doing so, he missed the opportunity to push for a national conversation about civil servants who take a stand in a system designed to silence them. In a broken bureaucracy where many have gotten away with illegality, a story like Amobi’s is a positive case study worth reinforcing in the Nigerian Public Service Training Institutes.
Research from behavioural science is clear: people’s actions are influenced by what is rewarded, punished, or socially reinforced. According to the World Bank’s 2015 report Mind, Society, and Behaviour, when institutions reward loyalty over competence or ignore misconduct, they inadvertently normalise unethical behaviour. The environment becomes one where silence is safe and courage is costly.
Similarly, the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development’s (OECD) 2020 Policy Framework on Sound Public Governance states that ethical behaviour is more likely to thrive in systems where consequences are predictable and leadership models integrity. Without enforcement, ethical decisions become symbolic gestures with minimal systemic impact.
Every time Nigerians describe a political leader as a father to the nation or highlight their supposed compassion but overlook the decisions they’ve made that undermine the people they claim to love, we reinforce a dangerous disconnection between emotion and responsibility. Governance is not parenting, it is accountability! Nigeria’s over-reliance on personal virtue, whether perceived humility, religious affiliation, or emotional vulnerability, continues to weaken our public institutions.
We have normalised a pattern where leaders offer public prayers, including in their inbox, while overseeing systems that fail their citizens. I am not shocked, the Buhari-Amobi meeting ended with a prayer session. However, although public prayers may provide solace, they do not safeguard public funds or dismantle corrupt networks ingrained in government structures and processes.
When Buhari discovered the truth about the Accugas deal, did he order an audit? Did he issue a public statement? Without answers to these questions, the tears become a distraction, not a place for renewed hope. Ethical decision-making means creating systems where mistakes are traceable, decisions are understandable, and consequences are certain. It necessitates the development of feedback loops, transparency, and public trust rather than personal regret behind closed doors.
As Chinua Achebe rightly noted in The Trouble with Nigeria, the trouble with Nigeria is simply and squarely a failure of leadership. This is not a failure of emotion, it has always been a failure to take action. Nigeria has to ensure that in building stronger societies and making governance work, justice must reflect equality, where no one is above the law.
My view is not a personal attack on Buhari. It is a reflection on a political culture that too often substitutes emotion for accountability and regret for reform. If the erroneous approval of $10 million implies that the President was sad, then we are continuing to gamble with Nigeria’s future.
Nigerians must demand more from those in leadership, past and present, as the social contract risks are deeper than we know, and citizens bear the consequences of silence daily. The problem is not that Buhari cried. The problem is that our governance culture often stops at tears and forgets the systemic rot that causes them.
Emotion may soften history, but it does not build a future. Empathy without reform is performative. Let us be practical with leadership, place less emphasis on sentiment when public officials make a mistake, and more on strengthening systems. Until then, integrity will remain the exception, and impunity the norm.
* Friday is Accountability Lab Nigeria’s Country Director.
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