WHOSE WORDS SHOULD DEFINE M. A. ABUBAKAR: BALA MOHAMMED’S RECORD OR DAURE DAVID’S NARRATIVE?
By Umar Ibrahim Sade
The publication by Daure David, presented as a “data-driven” account of the administration of former Bauchi State Governor, Mohammed Abdullahi Abubakar SAN, deserves closer scrutiny—not because the issues it raises should be ignored, but because serious allegations must be distinguished from facts established by a competent court.
At the centre of David’s narrative is the 2020 report of the Assets and Funds Recovery Committee constituted by the administration of Governor Bala Abdulkadir Mohammed in 2019 to investigate alleged diversion of assets and funds covering the period from 2007 to 2019.
The committee made findings and recommendations concerning the two administrations preceding the Bala administration. But a committee report is not a judicial verdict. Allegations, investigative findings and recommendations contained in such a report cannot automatically be presented as conclusive proof of criminal liability.
That distinction is fundamental to responsible journalism.
The first question David should therefore answer is straightforward: where allegations remain disputed and were rejected by representatives of the former governor, by what journalistic standard can those allegations be presented as settled facts while the responses of the accused receive comparatively limited attention?
THE NUMBERS REQUIRE CONTEXT
The financial figures cited in the committee report are significant and deserve public scrutiny. The committee reported that the two administrations under review received more than ₦1 trillion in statutory allocations, alongside more than ₦65 billion in special releases to the immediate past administration.
It also cited 12,249 contracts and services submitted by 19 ministries, departments and agencies, with a combined value of approximately ₦97.19 billion. The report further referenced 16 plots in Kaduna valued at about ₦1.5 billion, a Kano property valued at approximately ₦284.349 million, and the recovery of 23 vehicles and four tractors.
Those figures are part of the public record and are legitimate subjects for investigation.
But figures alone do not establish criminal responsibility.
There is a critical distinction between money received by a government, money appropriated, money spent on legitimate government obligations, money allegedly misapplied and money personally diverted by an individual.
That distinction is particularly important regarding the frequently cited ₦97.19 billion contract figure. The committee itself indicated that 78 contracts valued at approximately ₦63.84 billion had been verified and analysed.
The professional questions, therefore, are unavoidable:
How many of those contracts were ultimately established by a competent court to be unlawful? How much money was actually proven to have been diverted? Who was found legally responsible? What prosecutions followed, and what were their final outcomes?
Until those questions are answered with documentary evidence, the figures remain evidence of an investigation and allegations arising from it—not a substitute for a conviction.
THE ECONOMIC CONTEXT CANNOT BE ERASED
Any serious assessment of the 2015–2019 Abubakar administration must also consider the economic environment in which it operated.
Nigeria entered recession in 2016 following a severe oil-price and foreign-exchange shock. State governments faced declining revenues, salary pressures, debt obligations and substantial inherited liabilities.
Contemporary accounts record that Abubakar said he inherited an empty treasury, four months of unpaid salaries, approximately ₦15 billion in outstanding gratuities and a substantial debt burden, which he variously put at between roughly ₦120 billion and ₦155 billion.
He also stated that the state's monthly wage bill was approximately ₦5.1 billion while federal allocations frequently fell below that figure.
Whether every component of the liabilities cited by the former governor should be accepted is itself a matter for documentary verification. But the broader fiscal crisis of the period is an established part of Nigeria's economic history and should not be removed from any serious assessment of his tenure.
It is also important to maintain historical accuracy. Describing the Abubakar years as having witnessed “two recessions” would be misleading if presented as a precise national fact. The nationally recognised recession during his tenure was the 2016 recession; the COVID-19 recession occurred in 2020, after he left office.
What can reasonably be said is that the Abubakar administration operated through a period of severe economic and fiscal pressure.
At the same time, contemporary reporting documented government interventions in areas including primary healthcare, agriculture and education, as well as efforts to revive the Bauchi fertiliser plant.
Those records do not automatically prove that the administration was successful in every area. They demonstrate, however, that its historical record cannot responsibly be reduced to one committee report or a collection of allegations.
THEN COMES BALA MOHAMMED'S OWN PUBLIC RECORD
Perhaps the most important question raised by the debate concerns Governor Bala Abdulkadir Mohammed himself.
If David's central argument is that M. A. Abubakar's administration should principally be defined by allegations contained in the recovery committee report, how should that narrative be reconciled with the public statements and actions of the man who succeeded Abubakar as governor?
Governor Bala was not a distant observer.
He contested against Abubakar in the 2019 governorship election, succeeded him as governor and subsequently had access to the institutions, records and administrative machinery of Bauchi State.
Yet, at a state dinner organised in honour of M. A. Abubakar following his elevation to the rank of Senior Advocate of Nigeria, Governor Bala publicly described his predecessor as his “elder brother” and said Abubakar had “shown what leadership should be”, while also saying that he had gone beyond his expectations and those of many politicians.
The significance of that statement cannot simply be wished away.
The event was organised by the administration of Governor Bala Mohammed itself. It therefore raises a legitimate question about the apparent contrast between the political narrative advanced by some commentators and the public position previously expressed by the governor who succeeded Abubakar.
If the former governor's tenure is to be defined principally through allegations of diversion and administrative wrongdoing, how should that portrayal be reconciled with Governor Bala's own decision to honour him publicly and acknowledge aspects of his leadership?
That is a question of evidence and consistency—not political loyalty.
THE ₦11.6 BILLION AND ₦8.5 BILLION QUESTIONS
The financial history surrounding the 2019 transition also requires a careful distinction between competing claims.
There was a public dispute over approximately ₦11.6 billion reportedly remaining in Bauchi State government accounts at the point of transition. The Bala administration's spokesman disputed aspects of the former administration's account and alleged that the money was at risk of being paid out, while representatives of the Abubakar administration provided their own explanation.
There was also controversy surrounding approximately ₦8.5 billion paid to contractors shortly before the handover.
But again, the existence of a payment is not itself proof of corruption.
In a court filing, M. A. Abubakar explained that the payment related to work undertaken by Bauchi State for the Federal Government and that the state had received a federal refund shortly before the handover. He stated that Bauchi had executed federal infrastructure projects worth approximately ₦14.6 billion and that part of the refund was subsequently paid to contractors.
The appropriate journalistic questions are therefore:
Where did the money originate?
What work generated the refund?
Which contracts were paid?
What approvals were obtained?
Were the works executed and certified?
What did the courts ultimately determine?
Those questions are far more useful than simply repeating the amount involved and attaching a conclusion to it.
That is the difference between investigative journalism and political messaging.
ALLEGATIONS MUST NOT BECOME VERDICTS BY REPETITION
The attempt to define M. A. Abubakar exclusively through the recovery committee's allegations risks narrowing a complicated four-year administration into a single political narrative.
A fuller public record contains the recovery committee's allegations and recommendations, responses from the former administration, financial records, competing accounts surrounding the transition, contemporary reporting on government programmes, and public statements by Governor Bala Mohammed himself.
All of those materials deserve examination.
David is entitled to advance a political interpretation of the Abubakar years. But political interpretation should not be presented as an authoritative historical or judicial verdict.
The responsibility of journalism is precisely the opposite: test the claim, examine the evidence, identify the source, seek the response of the person affected and distinguish an allegation from a fact established by due process.
THE REAL TEST FOR ANY MEDIA PLATFORM
There is also a broader issue that should concern every journalist and media consumer.
Any platform reporting allegations involving public finances and the reputations of former public officials should be judged by the same basic standards: verification, attribution, balance, documentary evidence, context and the opportunity for affected persons to respond.
Where a publication relies heavily on a particular committee report, readers should be able to distinguish between what the committee alleged, what it recommended, what the accused parties said in response and what, if anything, was subsequently established by a court.
That standard should apply regardless of the political identity of the person being investigated.
A publication may attract enormous attention online, but attention does not by itself establish accuracy. Virality is not verification, and repetition is not proof.
LET THE RECORD SPEAK
So, whose words should ultimately define M. A. Abubakar SAN?
The more useful question is not whether one commentator should be preferred over another. It is which claims can withstand documentary and judicial scrutiny.
Governor Bala Mohammed's public statements about his predecessor form part of the record. So do the findings and recommendations of the recovery committee. So do Abubakar's responses, the financial records, court filings, contemporary reports and any subsequent judicial determinations.
None should be selectively elevated while the others are discarded.
If there were financial wrongdoing, the documentary trail and lawful investigative processes should establish it.
If particular contracts were fraudulent, the contracts, payment records, audit findings and judicial outcomes should demonstrate it.
If assets were unlawfully acquired, the evidence should identify the transactions, beneficiaries and legal findings.
And if allegations did not survive legal scrutiny, that outcome should equally be reported.
That is the standard that should govern the debate.
M. A. Abubakar should neither be shielded from legitimate scrutiny nor convicted in the court of social media.
The people of Bauchi deserve something better than competing political narratives. They deserve the evidence.
And for journalism to retain its credibility, the evidence must always be stronger than the politics surrounding it.