In the realm of Nigerian public life, few figures embody as much contradiction, charisma, controversy, and candor as Sanusi Lamido Sanusi — the former Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, the deposed Emir of Kano, and now a moral crusader for justice and transparency. His recent interview with Channels Television’s Seun Okinbaloye reignited national conversations, not just about leadership failure, but about the hypocrisy that lingers like smoke in the chambers of power.
Sanusi’s words were sharp, uncompromising, and heavy with conviction: “We are being ruled by people who have no values… they are unbothered to be seen as thieves or criminals.” These were not just offhanded jabs — they were indictments. But as his voice thundered against the perceived rot of the present government, questions began to echo: What moral pedestal does the former Emir stand on? Can truth be wielded by those who once danced perilously close to the edges of recklessness?
Sanusi’s narrative has always been that of a reformer trapped in a deeply flawed system. His admirers see him as a fearless technocrat — a man who dared to name the beast, especially when he blew the whistle on the unremitted $20 billion by the NNPC during Jonathan’s administration. That singular act of boldness endeared him to many Nigerians who had grown tired of the systemic pillage. But behind the glare of that spotlight lies a less flattering story — one that raises uncomfortable questions about his own stewardship.
While Sanusi is quick to point fingers at those who currently wield political power, history has not forgotten his tenure as CBN Governor and later as Emir of Kano. Under his leadership at the Central Bank between 2009 and 2014, the institution found itself embroiled in a storm of allegations — unauthorized expenditures, questionable contract awards, and staggering corporate social responsibility spending that many considered extraneous to the CBN’s core mandate.
The Financial Reporting Council of Nigeria, among others, accused Sanusi’s CBN of spending billions without budgetary approval — N38 million on security towers, N1.9 billion on questionable IT projects, N16 billion in vaguely justified payments, and over N500 million in donations that seemed more grandiose than strategic. His defense, often framed as political victimhood, never fully addressed the pattern of financial indiscipline that marred his legacy. The PwC audit may not have directly indicted him, but it did confirm the disarray he had helped unveil — and possibly, helped perpetuate.
Yet, it was not just at the apex bank that Sanusi’s trail was dogged by controversy. After being suspended from the CBN in 2014, he was elevated to the throne of Kano as the 57th Emir — a move that seemed more political reward than cultural calling. His reign, like his banking career, was marked by turbulence. The Kano State Public Complaints and Anti-Corruption Commission accused the Emirate Council under his watch of misappropriating N3.4 billion between 2014 and 2017. Far from cooperating with the investigation, Sanusi was said to have obstructed it, instructing officials not to appear before the commission. These were not the actions of a leader with clean hands.
His defenders argue that these accusations were trumped-up charges used by then-Governor Ganduje to weaken his influence. And perhaps, to some extent, they were. But even if politically motivated, the details of the allegations deserved scrutiny, not dismissiveness. Justice, after all, is an open wound it can only be healed with truth, not rhetoric.
And so we return to his recent interview a searing critique of present-day leadership. Sanusi paints a picture of a Nigeria governed by kleptomaniacs, devoid of honor, ravaged by men with no conscience. But as he preaches against moral bankruptcy, his own account books from his days at First Bank, the CBN, and the Kano Emirate read more like a ledger of contradiction than a diary of virtue. While he may not have lined his own pockets and there’s no smoking gun that he did the institutional chaos under his stewardship suggests a lack of financial discipline at best and hubris at worst.
What was Sanusi’s formal training in finance and banking, beyond the privileges afforded by Northern aristocracy? Would he have risen to the helm of First Bank or been appointed CBN Governor without the invisible scaffolding of northern political power? He is brilliant no doubt eloquent, erudite, and principled in many areas. But it is impossible to disconnect his meteoric rise from the political patronage and ethnic dynamics that often determine power in Nigeria.
It’s this same patronage he now condemns, albeit from a safe distance, and with a tongue sharp enough to cut through steel. He may be speaking truths, but the vessel is fractured. Truth, when it comes from a place of selective amnesia, becomes just another performance.
None of this is to deny that Nigeria suffers from a leadership crisis we do. Our political landscape is riddled with actors who see the treasury as a hunting ground, and public service as a path to personal wealth. But when one of those actors, who once held similar positions of power, becomes the loudest moral voice in the room, the rest of us must pause and ask: Are we listening to a prophet or to a penitent man seeking redemption?
Sanusi’s case is not unique. It is the story of Nigeria itself a nation that oscillates between righteous fury and moral compromise. His interviews will continue to trend, his quotes will be shared by those yearning for better governance, but history will remember more than just his words. It will remember his deeds.
And here lies the paradox: he may be right about the current administration. He may be right that our leaders lack values. But he is wrong to assume that his past is invisible. To stand for justice is to embody it. To speak of truth is to first confront it — not just in others, but in one’s self.
Sanusi is a man of many truths, but also many contradictions. And if he is to remain a voice of reason, he must confront not just the failures of others, but the ghosts of his own reign both at the CBN and in Kano. Until then, his criticisms, however valid, will remain entangled in a web of hypocrisy.
Let us be clear the demand for good governance must never be silenced. But let us also be honest: He who comes to equity must come with clean hands. And justice, as an open wound, will continue to bleed until all who preach it also practice it.
