BY EMAMEH GABRIEL
One would think that a man who has already been caught on camera shopping for adult novelties, while accompanied by three women, no less, might have exhausted his need for public displays of amorous adventure. But no. Senator Abbo and his wife, Patience, apparently decided that whatever romance happens behind closed doors in Yola was simply not enough. They had to take it to the tarmac. There they were, husband and wife, saying goodbye in full view of ground crew, baggage handlers, and a bewildered pilot who probably thought he had wandered onto the set of a Nollywood scene.
At the airport, under the wing of an aircraft, a woman wheels a colourful suitcase across the tarmac. She is not supposed to be there. Everyone knows she is not supposed to be there. But no one stops her. And so she walks, past the signs, past the barriers, past the guards who look away.
You do not know why a man who describes himself as an ‘Ambassador of Christ’, and who also sat in the Nigerian Senate, no less, has such a pronounced affinity for sexy things. I do not know either. Perhaps it is the mystery of the human heart. Perhaps it is something else entirely. But the evidence, as they say in the courts where Senator Abbo has spent a fair amount of time, is damning.
Let us begin at the beginning, or at least at the place where the Nigerian public first became properly acquainted with the former senator’s peculiar interests. It was May 11, 2019. Abbo, who had just been elected to represent Adamawa North in the Senate, walked into an adult toy shop in Abuja. He was reportedly accompanied by three young women. They were there, by all accounts, to purchase what the shop calls “adult novelty items” — a polite euphemism for objects that one does not typically discuss in church fellowship meetings.
Now, here is where the story takes a turn. One of the women who had accompanied the senator began vomiting. Repeatedly. The shop owner, a nursing mother named Osimibibra Warmate, made what she likely thought was an innocent remark: the woman should have stepped outside to vomit. This observation, which in any normal circumstance would have been met with an apology or an embarrassed nod, instead triggered something in Senator Abbo. He accused the shop owner of poisoning the air conditioner. Then he called a policeman who was conveniently nearby and ordered him to arrest the shop owner. And then, when the shop owner’s friend tried to intervene, the senator slapped her. Repeatedly. On video. The video went viral, as these things do in our age of omnipresent cameras.
Abbo later apologised. He said he was sorry. He said regardless of the provocation, his action did not portray him as a good ambassador of the Senate, the Peoples Democratic Party, or the youths of Nigeria. He apologised to the Church of God everywhere in the world, because, as he reminded everyone, he was an Ambassador of Christ. It was a remarkable performance. A year later, a Federal High Court ordered him to pay N50 million in compensation to the woman he had assaulted. Justice, slow as it often is in Nigeria, had limped across the finish line.
But the saga of Senator Abbo and his appetites did not end in the sex toy shop. In 2025, a fresh allegation emerged: a 13-year-old girl, according to reports, had been raped at the senator’s residence in Katampe, Abuja. The police investigated. Four different units were involved: the Force CID Gender Unit, the National Cybercrime Centre, the Intelligence Tactical Unit, and the Medical Unit. After all that, the police cleared him. The report stated that the alleged victim’s hymen was not breached. That she was examined eleven days after the alleged incident and was reportedly still a virgin. That the witnesses present, including the security guard who opened the door, did not corroborate the allegation.
I am not a judge. I do not know what happened in that house. But I do know that when a man has been caught on video assaulting a woman in a sex toy shop, and then later faces a rape allegation from a teenager, the pattern begins to resemble something more than a string of unfortunate coincidences. The police cleared him, yes. But the stench of controversy has a way of clinging to certain public figures, regardless of what the paperwork says.
And yet, even that was not the end of it. Fast forward to last week, and the scene shifts from adult shops and police cells to the Yola International Airport. Senator Abbo, having been removed by a court from the Senate, has set his sights on the Adamawa State Government House. He was preparing to board a flight. His wife, Patience Abbo, accompanied him to the airport to see him off. So far, nothing unusual.
But then she followed him past security. Past the checkpoint. Past the boarding gate. Onto the tarmac. Right up to the foot of the aircraft staircase. She was wearing a brown abaya and wheeling a colourful suitcase — a suitcase that presumably contained nothing that required her to be standing next to a live aircraft engine.
The first time this happened, airport officials offered an explanation: Mrs Abbo had told Aviation Security personnel that she was travelling with her husband. They believed her. They let her through. When she returned alone to the terminal after seeing her husband off, they realised their mistake. Oops.
Then a second video emerged. Same airport. Same woman. Same tarmac. Same stroll to the aircraft steps. This time, there was no excuse about mistaken identity. This was a pattern. A habit. A routine.
The Minister of Aviation and Aerospace Development, Festus Keyamo, did what any sensible minister would do. He ordered a full-scale investigation. Under Part 17 of the Nigerian Civil Aviation Regulations, airport aprons and operational zones are designated Security Restricted Areas. Access is strictly limited to authorised personnel and screened passengers holding valid travel documents. Not wives. Not well-wishers. Not people who simply feel like walking across the tarmac because their husband is important.
This is where we must pause and reflect on the peculiar nature of Nigerian political culture. Senator Abbo is not the first Nigerian politician to treat rules as optional. He will not be the last. Our airports, our roads, our traffic lights, our public buildings, all of them are filled with signs that say “No Entry” and “Restricted Area” and “Authorized Personnel Only.” For ordinary Nigerians, these signs mean something. For the political class, they are suggestions. Gentle recommendations. Decorative elements.
But watch these same Nigerian politicians when they travel overseas. They do not argue with security at Heathrow. They do not stroll across the tarmac at JFK. They do not demand that TSA agents step aside because they were once senators. At the first sight of a white security uniform, they become the most law-abiding citizens on earth. They queue. They remove their shoes. They empty their pockets. They smile and say “thank you” and “yes sir” and “no problem.”
Why? Because they know that in those places, the rules are enforced. The consequence for disobedience is not a gentle scolding or a quiet word from a superior. It is handcuffs. It is a cell. It is deportation. The Nigerian politician, so mighty at home, becomes a model citizen abroad. The law that cannot touch him in Lagos suddenly has teeth in London.
This is not a new observation. But it bears repeating in the context of Senator Abbo’s ambitions. He wants to be governor of Adamawa State. He has secured the Labour Party ticket for the 2027 election. He has already begun making pronouncements about his impending swearing-in in May 2027. “Congratulate me in advance,” he wrote on Facebook. The confidence is admirable. The track record is not.
Consider the message that Senator Abbo’s behaviour sends to the people he wishes to govern. A man who cannot obey airport security rules will be placed in charge of a state’s security apparatus. A man who assaults women in shops will be responsible for protecting vulnerable citizens. A man who surrounds himself with controversy will be expected to model integrity for an entire population.
I am not saying that Senator Abbo is uniquely bad. There are worse politicians in Nigeria. There are worse human beings in positions of power. But the bar is so low that it has become a tripping hazard. We have normalised the abnormal to such an extent that we barely blink when a former senator walks his wife onto the tarmac. We shrug when a politician slaps a woman. We sigh and scroll past the headlines.
The Minister of Aviation has ordered an investigation. That is a welcome development.
Now the rules must be enforced. Part 17 of the Nigerian Civil Aviation Regulations designates airport aprons and operational zones as Security Restricted Areas. Access is strictly limited to authorised personnel and screened passengers holding valid travel documents.
Senator Abbo should be punished according to these rules.
This is the test that Senator Abbo’s case presents. Not whether he becomes governor, that is a matter for the voters of Adamawa. But whether a former senator can repeatedly violate aviation security regulations without facing any penalty. Whether a man with political connections can treat restricted areas as his personal corridor.
Senator Elisha Abbo likes sexy things. That is his business. But he also likes to bypass security, ignore regulations, and treat public infrastructure as an extension of his living room. That is everyone’s business. And until someone tells him, and tells all the others like him, that the rules apply to everyone, we will continue to watch the same spectacle unfold.
The investigation continues.
Do not hold your breath.
Discussion about this post