When rigging wins: Ogban’s conviction and imperative of cleansing Nigeria’s ballot box
By Lemmy Ughegbe, Ph.D
The recent three-year jail sentence handed to Prof Peter Ogban for inflating some 5,000 votes in Oruk Anam and Etim Ekpo local government areas during the 2019 Akwa Ibom North-West senatorial contest has laid bare a troubling paradox in Nigeria’s democracy.
On April 30, 2025, a Court of Appeal panel in Calabar emphatically affirmed Ogban’s conviction—a welcome demonstration that, at least in the criminal sphere, our judiciary will punish blatant vote-rigging.
Yet, the Election Petition Tribunal, whose findings triggered the criminal charge, declined to apply the statutory remedy its conclusions demanded. Instead of nullifying the tainted election and ordering a fresh poll, the tribunal—and subsequently the appellate court—permitted Senator Godswill Akpabio to retain his seat on the premise that the irregularities did not “substantially affect” the overall outcome.
This dissonance between criminal accountability and electoral consequence exposes a gap between principle and practice that must be bridged to restore public confidence in the ballot box.
At trial, the tribunal left no doubt that Ogban, serving as returning officer, had added roughly 5,000 fictitious votes in Oruk Anam and Etim Ekpo in favour of Akpabio. It cancelled the results from those two LGAs but stopped short of enforcing Section 136(1)(a) of the Electoral Act 2022, which provides that any tribunal finding corrupt practices “shall nullify the election and order a fresh poll” within 90 days. Nor did it invoke Section 137, which dictates that substantial non-compliance or corrupt practice vitiate an election. Instead, the tribunal opted for a truncated remedy, reasoning that the quantum of illicit votes fell short of the margin separating winner and runner-up.
Chief Eno Ekpe, a teacher in Oruk Anam, still bears the scars of this judgement. “We queued for hours at our polling centre,” he recounted, “yet when the so-called official return came out, our names were nowhere.
We were told later it ‘didn’t make much difference’. But it made a difference to our dignity—our votes were stolen.” Many across the state share Ekpe’s frustration and now regard the promise of equal suffrage as a hollow platitude. If those who perpetrate fraud evade the electoral consequences of their crime, what incentive remains for ordinary citizens to cast their ballots?
On appeal, the same reasoning prevailed. The Court of Appeal praised the tribunal’s thorough fact-finding yet declined to enforce automatic nullification, invoking a contested “materiality” threshold with no clear basis in the statute.
Meanwhile, the Supreme Court’s intervention in January 2023 addressed only a pre-election dispute over Akpabio’s party nomination, affirming his status as an APC candidate on the ground that internal party primaries lie beyond judicial scrutiny.
It never entertained any challenge to the tribunal’s electoral fraud findings or whether Akpabio should have been dislodged once those findings were made. The result is a constitutional and jurisprudential lacuna: criminal liability attaches, yet electoral fruits remain with the beneficiary.
This approach stands in stark conflict with binding precedent. In Oshiomhole v. Osunbor, the Supreme Court held that even localised corrupt practices vitiate the integrity of the entire election and cannot be quarantined to specific polling units.
The purpose of electoral law is not merely to count votes but to ensure they are cast freely, fairly and by due process. The entire edifice collapses when any portion of the total is proven fraudulent. To permit a candidate to cling to the office once a subset of ballots is disqualified is to reduce the legislation to mere window dressing.
Nigeria’s wobbly application of its zero-tolerance statutes contrasts sharply with other mature democracies. Under the United Kingdom’s Representation of the People Act 1983, any MP’s election found to involve corrupt or illegal practices is voided forthwith, the seat vacated, and the offender barred from standing for five years.
In 2010, Phil Woolas, whose campaign in Oldham East & Saddleworth was found to have knowingly circulated false statements about his opponent, had his victory quashed within days, and a by-election was held within weeks without any debate over “materiality.”
India’s Representation of the People Act 1951 goes further: proof of corrupt practices annuls the result and imposes a six-year disqualification from contesting elections. In 1974, Chaudhary Rahim Khan lost his Haryana Assembly seat and was barred for six years after distributing religiously inflammatory and defamatory campaign materials. In the United States, while Section 3 of the Fourteenth Amendment concerns insurrection, state election codes and court rulings ensure that vote-riggers cannot remain in office.
William G. Stinson, briefly elected in 1994 to Pennsylvania’s 2nd Senate District, was unseated once a court confirmed vote fraud. The 2018 North Carolina 9th District fiasco saw organised absentee ballot fraud lead to a rerun rather than crowning the fraud-tainted victor.
At the doctrinal core lies the venerable maxim nemo auditur propriam turpitudinem allegans— “no one may profit from their wrongdoing.” This principle, rooted in common law and endorsed by international electoral standards, ensures that the spoils of corruption are stripped away.
Latin American electoral codes likewise enshrine this concept, declaring that no petitioner whose misconduct underpins a challenge may benefit from the following nullity.
Nigeria’s legislative architecture already reflects these international best practices. The missing element is the consistent judicial and administrative will to enforce them. Three reforms are imperative to bridge the gap between statute and reality.
First, our tribunals and appellate courts must apply Sections 136 and 137 in their strict letter and spirit. Any finding of corrupt practice—however localised—must trigger automatic nullification and a rerun within the statutory 90-day window. Judicial discretion over “significance” should yield to the legislature’s clear command.
Where courts hesitate, they should be reminded that the doctrine of separation of powers empowers them to give effect to the law without departing from its plain words.
Second, INEC must overhaul its monitoring and enforcement regime. The Commission should establish independent audit teams equipped with digital forensic tools and mobile-enabled reporting to detect anomalous vote patterns in real-time.
Any local government or polling unit exhibiting statistical red flags—such as sudden surges or artificially smoothed tallies—must have its provisional certificate of return withheld pending full judicial adjudication.
Moreover, INEC should partner with accredited civil-society observers and deploy live-streaming of result collation at constituency levels, thereby closing the gap that has allowed returning officers to manipulate figures unchallenged.
Third, criminal prosecutions for electoral fraud require acceleration akin to that accorded capital offences. Courts should prioritise such trials, impose strict timetables and penalise any returning officer or official who absconds or frustrates proceedings.
Upon conviction, the implicated official’s sentence should be linked to the immediate vacation of the seat and the automatic triggering of a by-election within the 90-day timeframe. This cohesion between criminal and electoral sanctions will deter potential fraudsters, who will know that manipulation carries both personal and political ruin.
The recent conviction of Professor Ogban marks a critical inflexion point. It demonstrates that our criminal courts can and will hold offenders to account. Yet, unless our electoral tribunals and administrative bodies match that resolve, we risk creating a two-tier accountability system in which the manipulators are punished, but the beneficiaries remain unscathed. That does little to deter fraud or to reassure citizens that their votes matter.
Nigeria stands at a crossroads. The “State of the Nation” demands coherence: convictions for electoral rigging must inevitably carry electoral consequences. Our democracy cannot be half-enforced. As we approach successive elections, political parties, the judiciary, the National Assembly and INEC must unite behind the clear mandates of the Electoral Act.
Only by insisting that every victory be won at the ballot box—and never preserved through judicial or administrative indulgence—can we ensure that zero tolerance for electoral fraud becomes more than a slogan but the bedrock of our democratic life.
Lemmy Ughegbe, PhD writes from Abuja
Email: [email protected]
WhatsApp ONLY: +2348069716645
