10th NASS@3: The gaffes of a Senate president

In the high-stakes theatre of Nigerian politics, words are not merely tools of communication; they are capital, currency, and occasionally, political landmines. Since assuming the leadership of the 10th National Assembly, Senate President Godswill Akpabio has found himself at the centre of an intense media spotlight, not just for the legislative agenda he shepherds but […]

In the high-stakes theatre of Nigerian politics, words are not merely tools of communication; they are capital, currency, and occasionally, political landmines.

Since assuming the leadership of the 10th National Assembly, Senate President Godswill Akpabio has found himself at the centre of an intense media spotlight, not just for the legislative agenda he shepherds but for a series of rhetorical missteps, Freudian slips and controversial statements.

From the sacred halls of the Red Chamber to the digital echo chambers of Nigerian social media, Akpabio’s utterances have frequently blurred the line between harmless legislative banter and public relations crises. While some of these incidents are genuine gaffes born of the exhaustion of live plenary, others represent deeper friction points regarding state resources, international diplomacy and the transparency of data.

An examination of six key controversial moments, spanning from late 2023 through mid-2025, reveals the delicate tightrope a legislative leader must walk in an era of hyper-connectivity, where a single slip of the tongue can morph into a nationwide controversy within minutes.

 

The “Tinubu was buried” gaffe (July 2025)

Perhaps the most startling linguistic blunder of Akpabio’s tenure occurred during a plenary session in July 2025. While delivering a solemn and respectful eulogy intended for the administration of former President Muhammadu Buhari, Akpabio’s tongue famously slipped. Addressing the floor, he declared:

“The whole country is very proud of what this administration has done in the way and manner President Bola Ahmed Tinubu was honoured and was buried.”

The chamber fell into a momentary, stunned hush before a wave of murmurs broke out.

Realising the gravity of what he had just said, essentially pronouncing the sitting president dead and buried on live television, Akpabio quickly sought to course-correct. Visibly flustered, he corrected himself: “President Buhari, rather. Sorry. President Buhari was honoured and buried.”

Though the correction was immediate, the damage in the digital age was already done. The video clip spread across TikTok, X (formerly Twitter) and WhatsApp like wildfire.

In a political culture deeply attuned to symbolism, spiritual undertones and optics, declaring a living head of state “buried” is viewed with immense gravity.

While objective observers recognised it as a classic verbal transposition—substituting the name of the current president for the former—the incident underscored how easily a fatigued speaker can manufacture a national distraction out of thin air.

 

Token versus prayers: The holiday allowance slip (August 2023)

If the July 2025 gaffe was an issue of nomenclature, the August 2023 “holiday allowance” incident was a catastrophic failure of economic optics.

As the Senate prepared to embark on a recess, Akpabio, speaking directly into a live television microphone, announced to his colleagues: “To enable all of us to enjoy our holidays, a token has been sent to our various accounts by the clerk of the National Assembly.”

Off-camera, fellow senators scrambled to alert their leader that the microphones were live and broadcasting to millions of Nigerians struggling under the weight of a biting economic recession, fuel subsidy removals and skyrocketing inflation.

Prompted by his colleagues, Akpabio attempted a clumsy, humour-infused retraction: “I withdraw that statement. To allow you to enjoy your holidays, the Senate president has sent prayers to your mailboxes to assist you in going on a safe journey and returning.”

The pivot from “tokens in bank accounts” to “prayers in mailboxes” became an instant symbol of legislative insensitivity.

Coming at a time when the National Assembly was facing intense scrutiny over a controversial N70 billion allocation earmarked for “palliatives” and working conditions for lawmakers, the slip confirmed the worst suspicions of the Nigerian populace: that their leaders remained insulated from the economic hardships of the masses.

 

Geopolitics and defiance: The ‘Who am I to answer Trump?’

The intersection of fake news and parliamentary humour created another storm for Akpabio following an alleged confrontation with international narratives.

When a fabricated news report circulated, claiming that Akpabio had openly mocked Donald Trump regarding the complex security situation and killings in Nigeria, the Senate President used the floor to debunk the rumour. However, it was his self-deprecating follow-up that raised eyebrows:

 

“Who am I to answer Trump?”

While intended as a lighthearted nod to the asymmetric power dynamic between a Nigerian lawmaker and a polarising global figure, the comment did not sit well with everyone in the chamber.

His deputy, Barau Jibrin, immediately countered with a more nationalistic fervour: “I’m not scared of Trump. I will say my mind. I’m a Nigerian. Nigeria is a sovereign nation.”

The contrast between Akpabio’s deferential humour and Jibrin’s fierce sovereignty highlighted a rare, public rhetorical mismatch on the Senate leadership bench. Though Akpabio’s office later issued clarifications reiterating that the initial quote prompting the discussion was entirely fake, the episode demonstrated how informal banter on the Senate floor can inadvertently project weakness or division on matters of national dignity.

 

The “Avail yourselves of free food” controversy

In June 2023, a highly edited video clip began circulating on social media, purporting to show the Senate president mocking the economic plight of citizens by telling them to “avail themselves of free food.”

Given the socioeconomic tensions in the country, the clip sparked immediate outrage. However, rigorous fact-checking quickly revealed that the video had been stripped of its context.

Akpabio was not addressing the Nigerian public; he was speaking informally to his fellow senators during an internal chamber announcement regarding a scheduled dinner. His actual words were: “We urge members that times are difficult, and wherever you see free food, please avail yourself!”

It was an inside joke aimed at wealthy lawmakers, utilising self-deprecating humour about the “difficult times” to encourage attendance at a Senate function.

While his media office rightly denounced the viral clip as “malicious” and intentionally manipulated, the incident served as a stark reminder of how vulnerable Akpabio’s colloquial, jovial-speaking style is to weaponisation by political adversaries.

 

Contradicting figures on bills passed (June 2025)

Not all of the Senate President’s missteps have been emotional or financial; some have been purely bureaucratic.

During the Democracy Day celebrations in June 2025, Akpabio proudly reeled off the achievements of the 10th Senate, stating that the upper chamber had introduced 844 bills and successfully passed 96.

The triumph was short-lived. Just days later, Senate Leader Opeyemi Bamidele publicly released a different set of data, asserting that 983 bills had been introduced and 108 had been passed. 

The discrepancy, though seemingly minor to an outsider, caused noticeable confusion within the chamber and invited press criticism.

For an institution whose primary mandate is the meticulous crafting of law, a failure to align on basic legislative metrics signalled a lack of internal coordination and data integrity, casting a shadow over what was meant to be a celebratory milestone.

 

The “private jet” quote

Perhaps the most damaging quote attributed to Akpabio was one he never actually said.

A series of viral Facebook posts claimed that Akpabio had boldly declared:

“We know Nigerians are hungry, but that will not stop us from approving a private jet for Mr President. His life is more important now than that of ordinary citizens.”

The quote was manufactured out of whole cloth, designed to exploit public anger surrounding discussions of upgrading the presidential air fleet.

Akpabio’s office immediately distanced the Senate President from the statement, labelling it a complete fabrication aimed at inciting public hatred against the legislature.

Despite the denial, the ease with which the public believed the fake quote spoke volumes about the existing trust deficit between the government and the governed—a deficit occasionally widened by Akpabio’s actual gaffes, such as the “holiday token” comment.

Our Senate correspondent observed that the legislative style of Godswill Akpabio is inherently conversational, often relying on wit, sarcasm and off-the-cuff remarks to manage a chamber of 109 ambitious politicians. However, in an era dominated by hyper-partisan social media, instant video clipping and deep public cynicism, this informal approach carries an incredibly high risk.

While fabrications like the “free food” narrative and the “private jet” quote highlight the dangers of the modern misinformation landscape, self-inflicted wounds like the ‘Tinubu burial slip’ and the “holiday allowance” blunder demonstrate a recurring vulnerability in communication strategy.

Mr Jamiu Arafat, a political analyst, advised that for the 10th Senate to maintain its institutional credibility, its leadership must recognise that in the court of public opinion, there is no such thing as an off-the-record joke, and the line between legislative banter and a national public relations disaster is razor-thin.