Before the verdict: Revealing the cracks in Nigeria’s high-stakes ministry of power trial

As Nigeria awaits judgment in the high-profile trial of former Energy Minister, Engr. Sale Mamman, the case evolved into something more than an ordinary corruption case: it became a litmus test for evidentiary standards, depth of prosecution and public perception of justice.

Over the course of months of hearings, numerous national media reports painted a fragmented picture. However, when the court record is examined holistically, a clearer narrative emerges that raises critical questions about whether the prosecution met the legal threshold required for conviction.

At the heart of the case is the alleged diversion of over ₦33 billion linked to the Mambilla-Zungeru power project. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) built its case around financial flows through multiple corporate accounts and a project account domiciled at the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN). However, the testimony – particularly during cross-examination – consistently introduced gaps that the court cannot ignore.

A recurring theme in the proceedings is the lack of direct connection. Key prosecution witnesses, including bank officials and Bureau de Change operators, admitted under oath that they did not personally know the defendant nor could they establish any operational relationship between him and the accounts under scrutiny. More significantly, witnesses such as PW9 and PW11 confirmed that all instructions they received came from a project accountant, not the minister, and that they never conducted any transactions directly with him.

The documents presented such as bank statements, mandates and compliance records were procedural in nature. Crucially, no one has demonstrated ownership, signatory authority or actual control by the former minister. Evidence from the Accountant General’s Office also confirmed that the payments were processed through the Remita platform by designated officials, none of whom included the defendant.

More significant is the issue of the Special Project Account. Testimony confirmed that the account was operated by officials from the Office of the Accountant General and the CBN, not the Ministry of Energy. The implication is structural: without signature authority or administrative control, the attribution of transactional responsibility to the minister becomes legally weak.

Even the prosecution witnesses themselves introduced contradictions that complicate the financial narrative. Although investigators said the funds came from a loan from China Exim Bank, documentary evidence showed that such loans were paid directly to contractors. Investigators also admitted that they did not verify total disbursements by the bank or confirm actual releases from public accounts during the defendant’s tenure.

The time discrepancies further complicate the prosecution’s narrative. The evidence presented indicates that the financial activities in question began before Mamman took office and continued after the end of his term. This temporal discrepancy raises a fundamental legal question: on what basis can liability be attributed to an individual for actions that occur outside his or her period of authority?

Equally damaging is the prosecution’s failure to establish the illegal source and origin of the alleged ₦33 billion. Witnesses who handled the funds admitted they didn’t know where the money came from, instead relying on what investigators told them. In criminal law, such rumors cannot constitute the predicate crime of money laundering.

Another critical evidentiary gap lies in the failure to produce key materials. Numerous witnesses confirmed the existence of handwritten transaction records documenting disbursements and recipients, which were seized by investigators. Despite formal requests from the defense, these materials were never produced in court. Under established legal principles, withholding such potentially material evidence raises adverse inferences and directly implicates the defendant’s constitutional right to a fair trial.

The trial also highlighted procedural disputes. The defense argued that failure to provide these documents deprived the accused of the “facilities” necessary to prepare his case, as guaranteed by Section 36 of the Constitution. Additional concerns included allegations of an ambush trial, such as the late disclosure of video evidence and the calling of witnesses not previously listed, limiting the defense’s ability to respond adequately.

Further procedural tensions arose when the defense attempted to call a key witness under the law but was denied, effectively closing the case in limited circumstances. These developments introduce broader questions about whether the trial process itself met constitutional standards of fairness.

Beyond evidentiary gaps, the prosecution’s case also faces structural weaknesses. The money laundering charge is based on criminal breach of trust, but no evidence has been provided to show that the funds were ever entrusted to the defendant. Testimony consistently established that financial control rested with the designated accountants, not the minister. Without proof of the assignment the basis of the accusation becomes legally unstable.

The arithmetic of the prosecution’s case also came under scrutiny. Witnesses admitted to having shelled out sums that, when combined, exceed the total amount allegedly diverted. This creates a mathematical inconsistency that undermines the coherence of the entire financial narrative.

Public discourse has not been free from distortions. Selective reporting and headline-driven narratives have sometimes overestimated the strength of the prosecution’s arguments, creating the impression of impending doom. However, the reality of the courts suggests a more nuanced picture, in which evidentiary gaps, contradictions and procedural concerns define the trajectory.

Beyond the individual case, broader institutional issues emerged. Why weren’t key officials running the project account subject to the same level of scrutiny? Why does the scope of the investigation appear narrow despite a multi-year settlement window spanning multiple administrations? These are not merely political issues, they go to the heart of the thoroughness of the prosecutor’s office.

As sentencing approaches, the court faces a unique task: determining whether the evidence presented meets the stringent requirements of criminal sentencing. The principle remains unchanged: whoever alleges must prove.

If the sentence ultimately favors the former minister, it will not simply be a personal grievance. It will reaffirm a fundamental principle of the justice system: that accountability must be anchored in credible, direct and corroborated evidence, and not in inferences, assumptions or public sentiment.

Ultimately, this case may be remembered less for its allegations and more for what it reveals about standards of evidence in Nigeria’s fight against corruption. The verdict will speak, but the news already tells a story of a prosecution challenged not by rhetoric but by the weight of its own evidence.

Muhammad, an analyst and public commentator, writes from Abuja