The Constitutional Crisis
Mr. President, the nation is watching. A duly elected Senator of the Federal Republic, Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan, has been shut out of her office for months. Her mandate is not in dispute. Her oath is valid. Yet, her right to sit, to serve, to represent her people, is being denied.
This is not bureaucracy. It is not “politics as usual.” It is a constitutional violation. When a senator is silenced, her constituency is silenced. And when a constituency is silenced, democracy itself begins to decay.
The Gendered Violence
This injustice is not only political. It is profoundly gendered. Natasha is not just being excluded — she is being humiliated. Her office remains sealed as if to say: women, know your place.
What message does this send to every girl in Nigeria who dreams of leadership? That her victory can be stolen in plain sight? That the system will punish her for daring to rise? That gender is still a cage in 2025?
The Psychological Humiliation
The cruelty here is not subtle. Her office is not just closed. It is sealed — a warning to every woman who dares challenge male power. It is a daily psychological torture, designed to break her spirit and to intimidate others.
This is not only Natasha’s burden. It is a scar on our national conscience.
The President’s Silence
Mr. President, you hold the key. Literally and symbolically. The Senate is in disarray on this matter. Institutions are looking to you. Nigerians are looking to you. The international community is taking note.
But so far, your silence is deafening. And in moments like this, silence is not neutrality. Silence is complicity.
The Global Audience is Watching
The world is watching Nigeria — not for our oil, not for our GDP figures, but for our democracy. If a woman senator can be denied her office despite the Constitution, then every Nigerian knows: no one’s rights are safe.
Do not underestimate this moment. Your legacy is being written now — not in your speeches, but in your silences.
The Call to Conscience
Mr. President, history has placed the key in your hand. You can unlock justice with a single decisive act. You can restore Senator Natasha to her rightful seat. You can prove that the Nigerian Constitution still means something.
Or you can do nothing. And history will remember you as the man who held the key, and refused to turn it.
The choice, Mr. President, is yours. And the time is now.
