Nigeria: Akpabio and the Fear of Trump
United States President, Donald Trump’s renewed attack on Nigeria has stirred quiet panic in the leadership of the National Assembly forcing President of the Senate, Senator Godswill Akpabio, to canvass calculated restraint. Sunday Aborisade reports.
When Godswill Akpabio, President of the Senate, instructed ministerial nominee Kingsley Udeh (SAN) to “ignore any question on Trump” during his screening, it was more than parliamentary etiquette. It was a signal of anxiety. The anxiety is rooted in the surprisingly fraught interplay between Nigeria’s national sovereignty and the seismic reverberations of Donald Trump’s recent foreign-policy pronouncements.
Late last month, the U.S. President announced that Nigeria would be redesignated a “Country of Particular Concern” (CPC) under the 1998 International Religious Freedom Act, a status reserved for nations judged by the U.S. to engage in “systematic, ongoing, and egregious” violations of religious freedom.
Trump had accused Nigeria of allowing the “mass slaughter” of Christians by “radical Islamists” and warned that U.S. aid would be cut off immediately, while military action was being “prepared” by the Pentagon. “Christianity is facing an existential threat in Nigeria,” he wrote.
In the unfolding diplomatic storm, Nigerian Foreign Minister, Ambassador Yusuf Tuggar rejected the portrayal, insisting “state-backed religious persecution” is impossible under Nigerian law, and framed the violence instead as part of a broader insurgency affecting all faiths. This is the backdrop against which Akpabio’s caution must be deciphered: what does the “fear of Trump” signal in Abuja’s corridors of power?
At Udeh’s screening, Akpabio remarked: “The only question I will urge you to ignore is commenting on Trump.” With that he moved for confirmation, smiling. On its surface, a light-hearted moment. But once one filters the domestic-international prism, it reads like a protective manoeuvre.
Earlier last Tuesday, Akpabio, at plenary, distanced himself from a fake social-media report attributing to him a statement responding to Trump: “Who am I to reply to President Trump?” He then announced that he had petitioned the Police and DSS to trace the origin of the forged report that attempted to link the Senate presidency to a direct response to Trump.
What emerges is a dual message: one, that Nigeria’s Senate is not prepared to become the theatre for foreign policy pronouncements outside the Executive’s domain; two, that the institution fears being caught off-guard in a diplomatic face-off with the U.S.
There are several reasons why Akpabio and the National Assembly might be uneasy. Nigeria is being publicly admonished by the U.S. President with threats of aid suspension and military action. The message is no longer private diplomacy but public pressure, blunt, global and humiliating.
A direct mention of troops “on the ground or air strikes” in Nigeria by Trump heightens the alarm. For Akpabio and his colleagues, the parliamentary institution must tread carefully so as not to signal internal disunity or abdication of Nigeria’s sovereign posture.
The Senate is being cautioned not to comment, because any stray remarks could be misrepresented, domestically and internationally. The fake report linking Akpabio to Trump’s remarks underlines this risk. When external actors frame Nigeria’s political dialogue (or mis-frame it), the Senate may become a pawn or lightning rod.
Internally, the matter of religious violence in Nigeria is viscerally charged. The CPC designation rests largely on allegations of mass killing of Christians, which Nigerian analysts describe as mis-framed or incomplete.
The regime in Abuja therefore faces a dual domestic and international credibility challenge. For Akpabio, parliamentary personnel must navigate religious fault lines and global headlines simultaneously.
Nigeria remains deeply dependent on international relationships, not only for security cooperation (counter-terrorism, insurgency) but for oil flows, capital investment, and aid. A breakdown in U.S. ties or a sanction regime will have immediate economic fallout. Hence the desire in the Senate to avoid becoming the flashpoint.
When Udeh appeared for confirmation, the question about Trump loomed, being as of that time, a serving Attorney-General of Enugu State and Senior Advocate of Nigeria. It was eventually asked by Senator Abdul Ningi of Bauchi Central but the fact that Akpabio forbade Udeh from answering it, signals the domestic shock-waves of the U.S. decision.
By this action, Akpabio achieved several things. He signalled unity and discipline within the legislative branch. He preserved the Executive’s primacy in responding to external threats as well as avoided forcing the nominee into a geo-politically explosive moment.
For Udeh, it meant his nomination proceeded without being dragged into a foreign-policy debate for which he may not have been prepared.
Understanding the CPC label gives context to why the Senate reacted as it did. A CPC under IRFA means the U.S. government identifies the country as engaging in “particularly severe violations of religious freedom.” It opens the door legally to targeted actions such as sanctions, visa restrictions, and aid suspensions. While those measures are not automatic, the designation is a strong diplomatic signal.
For Nigeria, the CPC label arrived alongside threats of military intervention, which go far beyond ceremonial criticism.
The U.S. narrative is that Nigeria is allowing or unable to prevent systematic killings of Christians by jihadists and militant groups. “Christianity is facing an existential threat in Nigeria,” Trump had claimed.
However, Nigerian officials point out that the violence is complex: insurgency, banditry, farmer-herder clashes, communal conflict, and it affects Muslims as much as Christians. “State-backed religious persecution is impossible under the constitution,” Tuggar, the Foreign Affairs Minister, had asserted.
What does all of this mean for Nigerian politics and Akpabio’s Senate? By formally avoiding commentary, the Senate ensures that foreign policy remains with the Executive, limiting institutional over-extension.
The fake social-media report shows how vulnerable institutions are to being dragged into external rows. Ensuring a clear “no comment” stance enables damage control. At the same time, Deputy Senate President, Senator Barau Jibrin insisted publicly, “I said I’m not scared of Trump … we are a sovereign nation.” This tension between caution and assertion, is likely to feature in days ahead.
If sanctions or military rhetoric from the U.S. gain traction, the government may face increased pressure from Nigerians who fear for economic consequences, and from legislators keen to defend national dignity. Nigeria’s global image, as a rising African power, oil exporter and regional anchor, takes a hit when foreign governments publicly paint it as failing its citizens. The Senate’s silence may partly reflect a desire to shield that image.
Akpabio has already indicated that the Senate has not yet formally discussed Trump’s remarks in plenary but that it will.
It means the institution is likely to hold a measured debate, rather than rush into an off-the-cuff response that could backfire.
What should the Senate consider? Beyond the U.S. narrative, Nigeria must assess internal evidence on religious violence, its root causes, and how it intersects with insurgency, ethnicity and climate.
Discussions with the Presidency, Foreign Affairs Ministry and Defence must chart a unified response. Any public Senate comment must align with executive diplomacy.
Given the anxiety in the polity, Nigerians will look for signals of stability, not only that their institutions are safe from foreign pressure, but that the government is capable of protecting its citizens and responding appropriately.
The Senate may wish to leverage its oversight role among the security agencies, humanitarian agencies, and in the areas of budgetary allocations, to strengthen internal resilience rather than reflexively respond to external pressure.
The Senate also has a role in shaping Nigeria’s image abroad. A hasty rebuttal or inflammatory statement could escalate diplomatic tensions and amplify the risk of sanctions.
The headline that resonates here is at once local and global: “Akpabio and the Fear of Trump.” The “fear” is not personal. Rather institutional: the fear that Nigeria’s Senate might be drawn into a foreign-policy crisis not of its making; the fear that national sovereignty might be viewed as brittle; the fear that mis-commentary or misstep could trigger diplomatic or even military consequences.
In instructing Udeh to steer clear of Trump-related questions, Akpabio was not simply being controlling: he was protecting the Senate, the nominee, perhaps even Nigeria’s broader image, from being cast into a global stage ill-prepared.
But this caution must not become deafening silence. The Senate must play its role, not as a silent bystander, but as a constitutional actor: conducting oversight, supporting the state’s protection of citizens, and ensuring that Nigeria’s foreign relations are grounded in facts, dignity and strategic advantage rather than reactive posture.
As Nigeria grapples with insurgency, banditry, religious conflict and communal violence, foreign commentary such as Trump’s may be noisy, provocative and even destabilising. But the domestic response must not be reactive posturing; it must be sober, coordinated and sovereign.
In the coming weeks, watchers will focus on how the Senate debates the matter, how the Executive responds, and whether Nigeria’s institutions can convert the external shock into internal reform and international credibility.
If there is one message the Senate must send to Nigerians and to the world, it is: ‘we are listening; we are acting; we are in charge. Not because we fear silence, but because we choose measured dignity over unchecked reaction’.
By This Day.
