In the annals of Nigeria’s jurisprudential journey, nothing corrodes the soul of a nation more than the selective and politicized application of the law. Justice, in its purest form, must be blind to ethnic identity, economic status, or political affiliations.
But the recent arrest and public vilification of Emeka Okonkwo—popularly known as E-Money—by the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), juxtaposed against the measured handling of similar incidents involving other prominent Nigerians, lays bare the haunting spectre of discriminatory enforcement rooted in ethnic profiling.
Let us begin with the facts.
On April 28, 2025, operatives of the EFCC stormed E-Money’s Lagos residence and arrested him for allegedly “abusing” the naira by spraying foreign currency (US dollars) at a public event. Within hours, he was whisked to Abuja, and images of his arrest dominated national headlines—casting a well-known philanthropist and business mogul in the garb of a criminal without trial or fair hearing.
Compare this, if you will, with the case of Subomi Okoya, son of billionaire industrialist, Chief Rasaq Okoya. Videos of Subomi spraying naira notes in flagrant disregard of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) regulations also circulated widely. Yet, his public apology was deemed sufficient to diffuse the matter. No EFCC raid. No press spectacle. No transport to Abuja in chains. Only a police officer attached to him was arrested—a convenient scapegoat offered to satiate the public’s anger while protecting the principal.
What, then, distinguishes these two men? The facts? No. The law? Certainly not. Their ethnic origin? Tragically, yes.
The Law and Its Spirit
Section 21(1) of the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) Act criminalizes the abuse of the naira, stating: “A person who tampers with a coin or note issued by the Bank is guilty of an offence and shall on conviction be liable to imprisonment for a term not less than six months or a fine not less than N50,000 or to both such fine and imprisonment.”
Section 15(5) of the 1999 Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria (as amended) enjoins the state to “abolish all corrupt practices and abuse of power.” But the same Constitution, in Section 42(1), prohibits discrimination based on ethnicity, stating: “A citizen of Nigeria… shall not be subjected to any disability or restriction… merely by reason of the circumstances of his birth, ethnic group, or political opinion.”
If the law is clear and applies uniformly, why then the double standard in enforcement?
The Burden of Igbo Identity
The EFCC’s action reflects a disturbing pattern that the Igbo people know too well—criminalization at first instance, denial of dignity, and the strategic deployment of state apparatus to humiliate rather than correct. This is not mere conjecture. From the treatment of Nnamdi Kanu to the commercial profiling of Igbo entrepreneurs, there is an undeniable national undercurrent that paints the Igbo as perpetual suspects in the courtroom of public perception.
When a Yoruba or Northern elite errs, the response is often remedial, rehabilitative, or protective. When an Igbo elite is accused—even before investigation—the process is vindictive, punitive, and aggressively publicized.
This selective persecution is not just unconstitutional. It is immoral. It poisons the national fabric. It sends a chilling message to millions of young Igbos that no matter how successful, generous, or law-abiding they are, their place in Nigeria remains conditional—at best tolerated, never fully embraced.
The Graphic Ordeal
Picture E-Money, a symbol of enterprise and philanthropy in the South-East, dragged from his home like a common felon. Imagine the psychological blow to his family, the economic ripple to his business networks, and the emotional trauma to the millions who see in him a beacon of aspiration. What purpose does this dramatized enforcement serve, other than to humiliate and dehumanize?
If this is how Nigeria treats its successful sons from the East, is it any wonder that calls for secession resonate so deeply in the land?
The Imperative of Institutional Redemption
We demand not favouritism, but fairness.
If the EFCC must prosecute naira abuse, then let it prosecute all offenders, irrespective of name, lineage, or ethnic bearing. Let us end the hypocrisy where Igbo names are headlines and others receive institutional silence.
We urge the Nigerian Bar Association, the National Assembly, and civil society to rise against this visible injustice. The rule of law must be blind, not selectively impaired.
Justice must not only be done—it must be seen to be done.
