By Our Correspondent in Abuja
In a sweltering courtroom in Abuja, the high-stakes drama of a failed military uprising took a turn for the supernatural this week. As the Nigerian government continues its crackdown on alleged traitors, the trial of six men accused of plotting to overthrow the state has moved from the barracks to the prayer mat.
Central to the day’s proceedings was a startling video confession from the sixth defendant, Sheikh Sani Abdulkadir. Looking into the camera of investigators, the Islamic cleric presented an extraordinary defense: he wasn’t a co-conspirator, he was a harbinger of doom.
The video, played before a Federal High Court, captured Abdulkadir detailing his brief but bizarre involvement with the alleged ringleader, Colonel Maaji. According to the Sheikh, he was approached less than a year ago by a middleman known only as ‘Sanda.’ The request was simple but seditious: the “Oga” (the Colonel) needed spiritual intervention to ensure a planned coup would succeed.
However, the Sheikh claims his divine “consultancy” yielded a grim forecast. After conducting prayers and divination, Abdulkadir says he delivered a chilling warning to the plotters.
”I told them the operation would fail,” the cleric said in the recording. He claimed his visions even specified the cause of the collapse—two members of the inner circle would turn Judas and betray the group to the authorities.
The courtroom sat in rapt silence as the video detailed the desperate measures taken by the alleged plotters. Rather than abandoning their plans upon hearing the prophecy, they reportedly doubled down. Sanda returned to the Sheikh with a new request: more prayers, specifically to “blind” the two potential traitors and keep them loyal.
Money soon followed. Large sums were transferred to the Sheikh’s bank account—funds he insists were strictly for “charity and prayer” rather than blood money for a revolution. He even received a “hit list” of names to include in his spiritual sessions to ensure their safety and success.
But the divine shield apparently had holes. Shortly after the prayers began, the Colonel vanished. Four days later, the news broke: the coup had been foiled, and the arrests had begun.
In a twist of irony that could have come from a spy novel, the Sheikh wasn’t caught in a midnight raid. He walked right into the lion’s den.
When Abdulkadir attempted to withdraw the “prayer money” from his bank, he found his account frozen. Unaware that he was already under the microscope of national security, he boldly marched into the offices of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) to complain to a Deputy Director. It was there that the “Prophet of Doom” found his own prophecy of arrest coming true.
When asked by investigators why he never reported a known plot to overthrow the government, the Sheikh offered a simple, if questionable, excuse: he didn’t know who to tell.
Despite the clarity of the video, the path to a conviction remains rocky. As the recording ended—with Abdulkadir notably stating he had not been tortured—the defense team launched a fierce counter-attack.
Lawyers for all six defendants have moved to block the video and written statements from being used as evidence. They argue the confessions were “extracted” in violation of judicial acts, claiming defendants were denied legal counsel or that the videos shown in court do not accurately reflect how the written statements were produced.
As the judge weighs the admissibility of these “confessions,” one thing is clear: in the volatile world of Nigerian politics, sometimes the most dangerous weapon isn’t a rifle—it’s a prayer.