Sometimes, when I reflect on politics, especially the kind practiced in Katagum, I am left wondering how morality, legality, privacy, and progress can ever coexist in our political climate. I often pity our political leaders, whether elected or selected, because occupying a public seat seems to strip them of all personal rights, leaving them figuratively naked.
Once you take public office, you forfeit your God-given and constitutional rights. Worse still, if someone doesn’t personally receive largesse from you, it’s as though you did nothing at all. You become just another villain, no matter what you gave to others or brought to the constituency.
In Katagum politics, people feel entitled to whatever a leader has. They apply two different standards: one for political leaders, and another for their followers. Leaders are often portrayed as villains—the ‘Boss’—while their opponents or followers become the celebrated underdogs—the ‘Stars’. Public sympathy naturally leans toward the Star, especially when they clash with the Boss. If the Star undermines or even “destroys” the Boss, he is hailed, not condemned. The Boss is rarely afforded justice or empathy.
A vivid example of this is the case between Azare Baba and Kachalla. Today, Kachalla is the Boss, and Azare Baba is the celebrated Star. Kachalla now faces relentless public attacks with barely a thread of sympathy—even though, Islamically, morally, and legally, he appears to be the one wronged. But not by the standards of Katagum’s political foot soldiers.
It’s only in Katagum that a junior political associate can defraud you of property worth over fifty million naira and still receive public applause, while ‘you’, the victim, are ridiculed. It’s as though we are legalizing theft in broad daylight and lost our moral compass.
Both individuals are familiar to me. I can bear witness to what transpired before and after their fallout. I know Azare Baba’s contributions, as well as his demands—many of which were viewed by observers as excessive. Despite this, Kachalla made several efforts to appease him. But Baba’s expectations seemed unrealistic. When he realized they were unattainable, he chose an unconventional path to reclaim what he believed was his. That decision landed him in trouble.
I don’t claim to read minds, but Azare Baba’s pursuit of political equity perhaps a senatorial seat was not accidental. His actions were calculated, deliberate, and taken with full awareness of their consequences. Unless, of course, he believed he was acting in a movie.
I know the depth of trust Kachalla placed in Azare Baba. He shared confidential documents, personal information, and even valuable properties—things no one should reveal to someone capable of betrayal. I remember clearly when Kachalla gave Azare a piece of land worth at least six million naira, which today would fetch a fortune. In a similar case, Kachalla recently bought a house worth over six and a half million naira for his second son, Inuwa Musa.
Even after Azare Baba sold the controversial property, he still collected ₦700,000 from Kachalla for media-related activities, where he served as chairman.
I don’t need to list every detail I know, but many reasonable and informed people have concluded that this was a case of ‘ci da zuciya‘—impatience—and a deep betrayal of trust. Kachalla has every right to feel disappointed, violated, and exposed.
Azare Baba’s actions were not a mistake—they were deliberate and seemingly strategic, perhaps aimed at stirring public sympathy to pressure Kachalla into dropping the case and forgiving him. Kachalla, it seems, was caught off guard—bewildered by someone he trusted deeply.
No reasonable person can justify Azare Baba’s actions—unless they themselves harbor such tendencies. Even Azare Baba would not tolerate it if someone did the same to him. And no one in Kachalla’s position would easily trust another political associate again.
To find justice and common ground for both parties, there must first be a confession. Azare Baba should own up to his actions and offer a sincere apology. Only then can Kachalla be encouraged, not pressured, cajoled, or intimidated to forgive. That would be both fair and honorable.
