By Mohammed Bello Doka
Imagine, for a moment, that the lifeless, naked body of a 26-year-old woman was discovered in the home of an opposition leader. Say, in the residence of Atiku Abubakar, or Peter Obi, or former Kaduna governor Nasir El-Rufai. Can you picture the scene? The Department of State Services would have descended with full force. Angry-looking policemen, stern-faced operatives from every security agency imaginable, would have swarmed the premises. The media would have been camped outside for weeks. There would have been immediate arrests, interrogations, and a torrent of official statements assuring the nation that justice would be swift and uncompromising.
And then, as if on cue, the Data Boys would have been unleashed. These are the paid social media influencers who have become the digital attack dogs of Nigeria’s political class. They would have flooded every timeline with carefully crafted narratives, hyping the efficiency of the security agencies, exaggerating the thoroughness of the investigation, and painting the opposition leader as a monster who deserves the full weight of the law. Their job would have been twofold: to destroy the accused and to rehabilitate the image of the government for acting so decisively. The Data Boys phenomenon, which began during the 2015 elections, has become a sophisticated political tactic where young people are paid to buy data and promote a politician’s image while attacking perceived enemies.
But the hypocrisy is blinding. When the accused is a serving minister in the ruling All Progressives Congress, the Data Boys are nowhere to be found. There is no online army demanding justice. There is no coordinated campaign to pressure the authorities. Instead, there is a deafening silence from the very same influencers who would have been screaming for blood if this had happened in the home of Peter Obi. The same digital mercenaries who would have been parading images of the victim and demanding immediate arrests are now conspicuously quiet, their keyboards resting, their data allowances unspent. This is the cruel irony of Nigeria’s justice system — it is not just the police and the courts that are for sale; even public opinion has been outsourced to the highest bidder.
Mary Habila, a 26-year-old physiotherapist, died on June 27, 2026, in the Uburu, Ebonyi State residence of the Minister of Works, David Umahi. Reports indicate her body was found naked, with disturbing images circulating online that allegedly show blood stains, injuries to her tongue, and peeling skin around her thighs. Her body was evacuated under the cover of darkness at about 11:02 p.m. on the night she died. This was not a sudden illness in a hospital bed. This was a young woman, far from home, who met her end in the private residence of one of the most powerful men in the country.
The minister’s own account has been riddled with contradictions and unanswered questions. He claims Habila was his personal physiotherapist, an employee of the David Umahi Federal University of Health Sciences on secondment to the Ministry of Works for three years. But police sources have disputed this, suggesting that she and a colleague, Anita Baski, had traveled from Kaduna State specifically to the minister’s residence on June 26. The question of why a minister would require a physiotherapist stationed at his village home, far from any clinic or his official office, remains glaringly unanswered.
Furthermore, the role of Jonathan Bawado, a serving police officer who works as Umahi’s Personal Assistant and previously served as his ADC, has raised serious red flags. According to police sources, Bawado brought the two women to the residence. This is a staggering revelation. A police officer, an agent of the state entrusted with enforcing the law, was allegedly involved in facilitating the presence of these women at the minister’s residence at the time of a death. If this happened at the home of an opposition figure, Bawado would have been arrested and paraded within hours. His role would be the central focus of a massive investigation, with Data Boys ensuring his face became synonymous with evil across every Nigerian social media platform. Instead, there is silence. No arrest. No questioning. No hashtags demanding justice.
The double standard is not just an accusation; it is the defining feature of Nigeria’s justice system. This is the same system where a young woman, Comfort Emmanson, can be stripped almost naked in public, hurriedly arraigned, and remanded in prison for an altercation on an airplane, while a prominent musician who delayed a flight and endangered lives remained free, defended by government agencies and state officials. As Peter Obi rightly noted, justice in Nigeria is often about who is poor or powerless versus who has influence or access to government officials. The powerful are shielded by a wall of political protection, while the less privileged face the full, brutal force of the law without mercy. This is the normalization of illegality that has become so alarming in Nigeria, where officials seem to be above the law while ordinary citizens are subjected to harsh and often unlawful treatment.
The ruling All Progressives Congress administration has cultivated a reputation for shielding its own, creating a pattern of protection for senior officials rather than allowing independent scrutiny. It is a system where allegations against the powerful are met with threats of legal action against accusers, as Umahi has done, rather than a transparent inquiry into the facts. The Data Boys, who would have been deployed to attack the opposition leader and defend the government’s decisive action, are now nowhere to be found because there is no decisive action to defend. This is the true state of Nigeria’s justice system: a broken, two-tiered apparatus that reserves its cruelty for the poor, its fury for the opposition, and its mercy for the powerful.
The family of Mary Habila is preparing to bury their daughter on July 17, 2026, even as questions remain unanswered. There are calls from activists and civil society organizations for a coroner’s inquest and an independent investigation, but these are being resisted. The minister remains in his office, carrying out his duties, inspecting roads, and defending government policies, as if a woman did not die naked in his home. Eighteen days have passed. No arrests. No questioning. No Data Boys demanding accountability. The silence is not just deafening; it is a confession. It is a testament to a system where justice has not just been delayed or denied, but has, for all intents and purposes, left the building.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via bellodoka82@gmail.com
Abuja Network News