The Prince and the Chief of Staff

By Joel Arinze

Let’s kill the conspiracy theory right now. Nobody sat in a room and mapped out the creation of a phantom agency. That would imply forethought, coordination, and a level of organisation this country rarely musters. No, this happened the Nigerian way—one man saw an opening, another decided his eyes needed a rest, and before “due process” could finish clearing its throat, a man with a forged letter had secured prime office space at the Federal Secretariat and a fully functional CBN account. Welcome to Nigeria, the land of opportunity.

In recent days, this story has consumed the media — dominating headlines, talk shows, and social media timelines. The name “Prince” Adeniyi Adeyemi Matthew has become a talking point. His allegations against Chief of Staff Femi Gbajabiamila have sparked outrage, debate, and demands for accountability. The opposition has seized on it. The government has responded. And the public, as always, has been left to sort through competing narratives, unsure whom to believe.

But amid all the noise, I have asked a different question. Not whether Adeyemi is a fraudster, the courts will decide that. Not whether Gbajabiamila is guilty, that too will be determined. My question is simpler: why did the State House feel the need to respond at all?

The answer, I suspect, tells us more about Nigeria than any headline ever could.

For months, Adeyemi reportedly operated in plain sight. According to a statement released Wednesday by Bayo Onanuga—corroborated by video evidence circulating over the last forty-eight hours—Adeyemi held meetings with ambassadors at the Wells Carlton Hotel without recourse to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. He allegedly requested a note verbale from the ministry to facilitate US visas for officials of his purported council. He secured office space at the Federal Secretariat and hosted meetings with both foreigners and Nigerians.

The statement claimed that, on June 11, 2026, the Office of the Chief of Staff issued a terse disclaimer, signed by Gbajabiamila, notifying the public, diplomatic missions, financial institutions, and multilateral organisations that no such agency exists under the Tinubu administration.

That should have been the end of it. A crime story. Not a political one.

But months later, Adeyemi made a claim that changed everything. He publicly accused Gbajabiamila of demanding huge sums in exchange for facilitating his appointment—allegedly N400 million upfront, another N200 million balance, and 48 per cent of the agency’s N27.4 billion take-off grant.

The allegations were explosive—and they came from a man whose credibility was already in question (the UN had publicly disowned his “ambassadorial” claims in 2016). But they were now out there.

And the opposition, as expected in Nigeria’s volatile political environment, seized upon them. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar called on President Tinubu to suspend Gbajabiamila. What began as a criminal investigation became the opposition’s rallying point.

Only after this public outrage—after Adeyemi’s allegations went viral, after the opposition weighed in—did the State House respond with a lengthy rebuttal running to over 1,200 words, laying out the timeline of investigations, the charges against Adeyemi, and clearing the Chief of Staff.

The statement told us that the Office of the Chief of Staff raised the alarm on October 17, 2025, following a complaint from the Nigerian Investment Promotion Commission. Gbajabiamila petitioned the DSS and Police, describing “fraudsters and imposters” forging appointment letters. Adeyemi was arrested on October 27, 2025, at his Federal Secretariat office. Investigators allegedly uncovered 34 bank accounts, including nine in fictitious names, and found he had used forged documents to open a CBN account through the Office of the Accountant-General. An eight-count charge was filed on November 27, 2025, with trial set for July 27.

The statement was detailed and comprehensive. But my assessment: a strategic mistake.

Because by issuing that statement, the State House gave Adeyemi something he could never have achieved on his own: a seat at the table. Before that statement, his allegations were the ravings of a man caught red-handed. Now, the State House had elevated him. They turned a crime story into a political one.

The statement also raised more questions than it answered. It told us Adeyemi allegedly opened a CBN account by misleading the Office of the Accountant-General. It told us he allegedly operated 34 bank accounts, nine in fictitious names. It told us he allegedly had an accomplice who died in a fire incident five days before his arrest. But it did not tell us who approved the CBN account, who allocated the office space, or how a N1.3 billion budget line for a non-existent agency found its way into the 2026 Appropriation Act.

Human rights lawyer Femi Falana has since demanded an independent probe, questioning how a fictitious agency could secure a CBN account and budget line without government complicity. These are valid questions. And the State House has no good answers.

On Thursday, Adeyemi appeared on Channels Television’s Politics Today and insisted he was validly appointed. “I’m not a con artist,” he said. He repeated his claim that Gbajabiamila demanded 48 per cent of a N27.3 billion grant and that he had paid N400 million by proxy. He declined to produce his appointment letter, citing the pending court case.

He argued that he could not have operated openly if the agency was entirely fictitious. “Let’s assume the agency does not exist. Would I have the temerity to be going all over the country meeting the heads of agencies and departments if they know that the agency does not exist or, as alleged, that I cooked everything?” He also claimed the Chief of Staff was aware of his appointment.

These are, of course, allegations from a man whose credibility is in question. But they are now out there. And the State House’s response, intended to close the matter, has only kept it alive.

I am not saying Gbajabiamila is guilty. I am not saying Adeyemi is innocent. What I am saying is that the State House made a strategic error. They thought they were closing the matter. They opened a new one. They gave a con artist something he could never have achieved on his own. They turned a footnote into a headline.

The Prince and the Chief of Staff: two men now yoked together in the public imagination, whether either likes it or not. Adeyemi, the alleged fraudster who almost pulled off the heist of a lifetime. Gbajabiamila, the Chief of Staff, an unwilling character in a story he allegedly did not write.

Both now wait for the court to speak. But in the court of public opinion, the verdict is already delivered: the State House gave a con artist a legitimacy he could never have earned on his own, and in doing so, turned a footnote into a headline.

My verdict: The State House should have stayed silent. Silence is not weakness. It is strategy. Sometimes the most powerful thing you can say is nothing at all.