A Painful And Reflective Letter To Justice Nyako: This Time, Stick To Your Conscience And The Law

Justice Binta Nyako—For the Fear of God, For the Sake of Allah—You Know the Truth, You Know the Law

Let us cast aside the robe, the courtroom formalities, and the polished legal language. Let us speak not judge to citizen, not lawyer to gavel—but soul to soul.

Madam Justice, you now sit at the heart of a case that carries not only legal consequence but eternal weight. This is no longer just a courtroom matter. This is not simply a sexual harassment allegation between Senator Natasha Akpoti and Senate President Godswill Akpabio. No—this is a wound torn open in the conscience of a nation. This is a test of who we are as a people, and what justice truly means in a land that has long been choked by silence.

And now, all eyes are on you—not just from within Nigeria, but beyond. You are no longer just a presiding judge. You have become the vessel through which either justice will breathe—or suffocate.

You know the law. You know the Constitution. You know the rulings that came before this moment. You know what AI legal analysis is beginning to reflect, what global human rights voices are saying. You know that previous court judgments regarding Senate suspensions have spoken loudly. And above all—you know, deep in your soul, that no Senate gavel, no committee, no orchestrated majority can override what is written into the moral fabric of the Constitution.

And so—for the fear of God, in honor of Allah, and for the unshakable dignity of justice:

Do what is right.
We are not blind to the terrain around you. Let us not pretend.

The power brokers are circling.
The handlers of Akpabio are whispering.
The Abuja elite are watching.
The calls are coming.
The pressures are mounting.
They may promise elevation to the Supreme Court. They may dangle comforts, status, and soft power. They may threaten to transfer you from the bright capital to a forgotten courtroom where no press cameras wait. They may try to isolate you, to reward your silence or punish your resistance.

But ask yourself, Madam Justice:
What can man truly do to you—if you stand with God? If you walk in the light of Allah?

Madam Justice Binta Nyako, we have seen this story before. The world watched as you once recused yourself from the Nnamdi Kanu case—an act many believed was led by conscience. But then, under pressure—reportedly from the Chief Judge of your jurisdiction, and possibly from higher powers—you returned to that same courtroom.

It was a courtroom where trust had already been broken. A courtroom where the defendant openly questioned your neutrality. A courtroom where justice, itself, struggled to breathe.

When Nnamdi Kanu challenged your re-entry, you responded not with withdrawal, but with a ruling to hold the case indefinitely under your authority. And then—quietly, unmistakably—the Chief Justice of Nigeria stepped in. Thematter was reassigned to another judge, a move that many interpreted as a quiet rebuke. Not only of your decision—but of the Chief Judge who allowed it.

Is that the legacy you want written again?
And now, here we are once more.
Another courtroom. Another case. Another fire.
Only this time, it is more than a legal matter—it is a spiritualreckoning. You are now seated over a case soaked in silence and shame: a case of alleged sexual harassment involving Senator Natasha Akpoti and the Senate President, Godswill Akpabio.

This is no ordinary file. It carries the pain of women unheard, the arrogance of power unchecked, and the question of whether justice in Nigeria still breathes through human conscience—or chokes under political control.

So we must ask:
Will this be another moment where pressure crushes principle?

Will this be another trial where political convenience drowns out truth?

Will you allow your bench to be used again—this time not just to manage public silence, but to bury a woman’s cry?

Justice Nyako, no one claims you are without flaw. You have faced criticism. Your name has been pulled through legal tempests and public judgment. But that does not mean you are finished. That does not mean you cannot rise higher.

If anything, this moment could become your resurrection. Yourreckoning. Your return to what is right—not in the eyes of power, but in the eyes of God.

You are not being called by hierarchy.
You are not being summoned by favor.
You are being called by purpose.
By the God who sees.
By Allah who watch over you.
By the women who suffer.
By the justice you once promised to uphold.
By the legacy your robe was meant to protect.
Will you stand still—or will you finally stand up?

Let the same voice that once whispered to your spirit—that the law must never become a weapon of politics—speak louder now. Let that conscience that once made you step aside now push you to rise and rule with courage. Not with silence. Not with strategy. But with truth.

This is not about pleasing men.
This is about honoring God.
This is about respecting Allah.
This is not about obeying the system.
This is about obeying your soul.
Justice Nyako, this is your gavel. This is your bench. But more than anything—this is your name.

Do not bend it again.
Do not lend it to political choreography.
Do not allow it to become a tool for injustice masked in robes and rituals.

Let this moment mark the woman who once stepped aside for the sake of justice—and who now steps forward, not for power, not for favor, but for truth.

Let this be your moment.
Not of surrender.
But of standing.
Will you join the silence—or will you be the one voice that stood?

This moment is not about Natasha alone. It is about you. Your name. Your calling. Your conscience. Your oath. Your Maker.

Do not let your courtroom become a shadow arm of the Senate.

Do not let your bench become another throne for the powerful.

Do not let your voice be used to disguise injustice in the language of law.

Because the truth remains:
Even if they block your promotion—you rise in the eyes of paradise.

Even if they transfer you—justice goes with you.

Even if they mock or isolate you—history will remember that you stood.

Justice Nyako—this moment is bigger than you.

You may think this is a political case. But it is more than that—it is spiritual. It is moral. It is eternal.

This is a battle between justice and manipulation. Between courage and complicity. Between power and truth.

So before your gavel strikes:
Stand with God.
Stand with Allah.
Stand with Justice.
Stand with what your soul already knows to be true.

Justice Binta Nyanko, draw from what you were taught at Queen’s College—the ethics, the strength, the sense of duty. Let those principles rise again in this hour. Let the judiciary witness that one judge refused to serve the power structure, and chose instead to uphold the law with dignity.

Justice Binta Nyako—your robe is not just a garment. It is a symbol. Let it not be stained.

And know this:
Allah is your guiding light.
God is your shield.
Justice is your legacy.
We pray for your health, your courage, and a name remembered not in fear—but in honor.

May your spirit remain anchored in truth, even when the winds of power try to shake you.

May your conscience speak louder than the voices that seek to compromise your soul.

Psychologist John Egbeazien Oshodi

This writer does not know any of the individuals involved; the focus is solely on upholding democracy, truth, and justice.

Professor John Egbeazien Oshodi is an American psychologist, educator, and author specializing in forensic, legal, and clinical psychology, cross-cultural psychology, police and prison sciences, and community justice. Born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, he is the son of a 37-year veteran of the Nigeria Police Force—an experience that shaped his enduring commitment to justice, security, and psychological reform.

A pioneer in the field, he introduced state-of-the-art forensic psychology to Nigeria in 2011 through the National Universities Commission and Nasarawa State University, where he served as Associate Professor in the Department of Psychology. His contributions extend beyond academia through the Oshodi Foundation and the Center for Psychological and Forensic Services, advancing mental health, behavioral reform, and institutional transformation.

Professor Oshodi has held faculty positions at Florida Memorial University, Florida International University, Broward College, where he also served as Assistant Professor and Interim Associate Dean, Nova Southeastern University, and Lynn University. He is currently a contributing faculty member at Walden University and a virtual professor with WeldiosUniversity and ISCOM University.

In the United States, he serves as a government consultant in forensic-clinical psychology, offering expertise in mental health, behavioral analysis, and institutional evaluation. He is also the founder of Psychoafricalysis, a theoretical framework that integrates African sociocultural dynamics into modern psychology.

A proud Black Republican, Professor Oshodi advocates for individual empowerment, ethical leadership, and institutional integrity. His work focuses on promoting functional governance and sustainable development across Africa.