Fresh attention has turned to the head of Nigeria’s electoral body, Professor Joash Ojo Amupitan, after a series of past social media posts resurfaced and stirred concerns about political bias. The posts, traced to his time as a university professor, suggest clear sympathy for the ruling party and for President Bola Ahmed Tinubu.
For a long time, doubts about his neutrality existed but were not strongly pursued. Some critics had urged earlier scrutiny, while others wrongly assumed that silence from observers meant personal loyalty. Instead, the hesitation came from a willingness to give him the benefit of the doubt and to judge him based on his conduct in office.
Earlier controversies had already raised eyebrows. One was a memo he reportedly wrote describing violence in central Nigeria as a Christian genocide without equal attention to Muslim victims. This was seen by some as a narrow interpretation shaped by limited perspectives. Such thinking, often described as being trapped in a closed information space, can lead people to ignore broader realities. Even so, that alone did not fully prove political bias.
Another moment came when the election timetable placed voting during Ramadan. Critics questioned the decision, but it was not unusual for elections to happen during that period, even in Muslim majority countries. Responsibility also lies with the entire electoral commission, not just one individual. At that stage, there was still room to remain cautious in judgment.
Concerns deepened later. A proposal to revalidate voter cards raised fears that many Nigerians could lose their voting rights. His role in a crisis within an opposition party also suggested actions that appeared to favor efforts to weaken political rivals. These developments began to paint a troubling picture, though they were still open to interpretation.
The situation changed sharply when specific posts from 2023 came to light. In one exchange, a political figure celebrated turning an opposition stronghold into a victory for the ruling party using language tied to ethnic identity. Amupitan’s response, saying victory is sure, appeared to support that claim. This was not just a casual remark but one that seemed to echo a wider narrative of political and ethnic competition during that election period.
In another post, he reacted to a claim about misleading campaign material allegedly used by supporters of an opposition candidate. His reply described them in harsh moral terms. Such language suggested not just disagreement but strong emotional alignment against a particular political group.
A third post showed him responding to praise for Tinubu with the word Asiwaju. While it may seem harmless, the term carries deep political meaning as a symbol of loyalty and support. It is widely used by followers of Tinubu as a sign of allegiance. Using it in that context placed him clearly within a supportive community rather than as a neutral observer.
After these posts resurfaced, the account linked to his name changed its identity, adopted a parody label, and was eventually locked. Despite these changes, digital records still connect the earlier content to the original account. The sequence of events has raised questions about transparency, especially given the importance of his current position.
This development is particularly striking because he had previously been described by some observers as a respected legal scholar with no known political ties. That earlier assessment was based on the information available at the time, but the newly uncovered material has changed the picture.
The core issue is not that he held personal political views. Every citizen has that right. The concern is that these views were expressed publicly in strong and partisan ways during a highly contested election period. Now, as head of the electoral body, he is expected to be not only neutral but also seen as neutral by the public.
Public trust is essential for credible elections. Without it, even well conducted processes can be doubted. Electoral officials are therefore held to a higher standard. Their actions, past and present, must not cast shadows over the system they oversee.
So far, there has been no direct and clear response addressing the posts and their implications. This silence has added to the concern. The situation calls for openness, acknowledgment, and accountability.
Removing an electoral chairman through legal means is difficult and requires both presidential action and strong legislative support. In reality, such a process is unlikely to begin, especially when political interests are involved. This leaves resignation as the most direct path to restoring confidence, though it is a step rarely taken by public officials.
If he remains in office, future elections may face constant suspicion, especially if outcomes favor the ruling party. This could damage not only the electoral body but also public confidence in democracy itself.
Nigeria has seen allegations of bias in elections before, but rarely with evidence that is this clear and easy to trace. The situation now stands as a serious test of integrity, transparency, and public trust.
A statement from the electoral body’s spokesperson claimed that the account in question was fake and created before Amupitan became widely known. However, this explanation raises further questions. At the time the account was created, he was not a public figure of national attention, making impersonation unlikely.
The pattern of the account’s activity also tells a different story. It showed consistent use, later changed identity, labeled itself as parody, and then restricted access when scrutiny increased. This sequence suggests an attempt to hide past activity rather than random impersonation.
The official response did not address key issues such as the change of account name, the shift in identity, or the timing of these actions. These gaps leave the matter unresolved and continue to fuel public doubt.
