In Nigeria, establishing a legitimate government agency requires navigating a gauntlet of the state’s most powerful offices: the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, the Head of the Civil Service, the Accountant-General, the Budget Office, and finally, parliamentary approval to enshrine spending into law.
Babachir Lawal, who previously served as Secretary to the Government of the Federation under former President Muhammadu Buhari, understands this chain of command intimately. He told the BBC that in a functioning system, his former office could not possibly have been unaware that the council was fictitious. “You cannot create a budget code for yourself without the budget office knowing. There must be connivance with officials within,” Lawal stated, concluding bluntly: “You must have officials within the system who will validate your corrupt behaviour.”
Oluseun Onigbinde, co-founder of the transparency group BudgIT—which first flagged the council’s funding—reached a similar conclusion via a different analysis. He noted the Presidential Council for Industrial Peace and Harmony (PFIPC) was absent from the 2023, 2024, and 2025 budgets, yet appeared fully formed with its own budget code in the 2026 proposal. “This agency actually emanated and found itself in the budget from the executive,” Onigbinde explained, meaning it originated from the presidency, not parliament. “The functional head of the agency cannot just do that alone. It has to come from the State House.”
Onigbinde outlined the standard verification protocols a genuine agency must clear: securing office space in the federal secretariat, obtaining civil service sign-off, receiving a budget code, and completing a multi-step process to open a bank account. He argued the “lone impostor” narrative fails to withstand scrutiny. “I don’t know how you go through all these tracks and you still come out at the end and this agency is fake,” he said. “He does it have backing. The government just has to be honest about who exactly are the people involved.”
The government’s narrative has shifted. Initially, a spokesman claimed the council’s head, Adeyemi, had “fraudulently opened” an account at the Central Bank of Nigeria. Subsequently, the Accountant-General’s office countered that no such account was ever activated and that no public funds were disbursed.
The distinction is critical. Even if no money ultimately left the treasury, the episode demonstrates how easily the façade of a legitimate state institution can be constructed in a country actively courting foreign investment—investors this council was ostensibly created to attract.
The BBC requested comment from the presidency on how the agency secured its office, staff, and budget line, and why it prefers an internal probe over an independent inquiry. Presidential spokesman Bayo Onanuga did not respond.
Legal representatives for Femi Gbajabiamila, the President’s Chief of Staff, declined interviews but shared a legal letter with the BBC. In it, they denounce Adeyemi’s allegations as false and defamatory, assert the two men have never met, and demand a retraction under threat of criminal and civil proceedings, including a claim for 10 billion naira in damages.
President Bola Tinubu has directed the nation’s anti-corruption commission to investigate and report within 30 days, specifically examining “the role of any public officer” who may have facilitated the scheme. Critics highlight that this order came alongside a public declaration of “100% confidence” in Gbajabiamila, who is listed as a witness in Adeyemi’s legal case. Opposition parties, senior lawyers, and campaigners are demanding an independent judicial inquiry instead.
Nigeria is no stranger to large-scale corruption, yet previous scandals often share a common denouement: many names mentioned, few convictions. Tinubu took office in 2023 promising reform, citing over 7,000 convictions and more than 500 billion naira recovered in two years. Critics contend these figures are dominated by low-level internet fraudsters, while politically connected figures rarely face consequences.
What distinguishes the PFIPC affair is not the sum involved—modest by the standards of past scandals—but the methodology. This was not money skimmed from an existing contract; it was, allegedly, an entire arm of government fabricated from nothing.
Onigbinde characterizes it as “a symptom of the dysfunctional budgeting process,” linking it to the unchecked proliferation of government bodies. A 2012 official review recommended reducing the number of agencies; instead, their count has roughly doubled to well over 1,200. “It’s a costly waste of public resource,” he said—in a nation already heavily indebted.
As the investigation widened, its sharpest impact was felt far from the capital. Police searching for Adeyemi, who had gone into hiding, detained his elderly father, Chief Adetunji Adeniyi, at the family home in Ogbomoso, Oyo State.
