By Bukola Oyeniyi
Although Nigeria just witnessed a change of leadership and the passing of former President Muhammadu Buhari, one “columnist” has been busy peddling falsehoods and toxic commentary around these events. Dr. Farooq Kperogi – a professor of journalism turned social media provocateur – recently retracted a blatantly baseless claim about the Buhari family and offered a public apology. As one of the many Nigerians he maligned and insulted for challenging his story, I find his belated mea culpa insufficient. This public statement serves as a strong condemnation of Dr. Kperogi’s erstwhile positions on President Buhari’s death and the false information he spread about the collapse of Buhari’s marriage. It addresses both the moral outrage and potential legal ramifications of his actions.
A Pattern of Sensational Misinformation
Farooq Kperogi is no stranger to controversial claims. For years, he relished his role as one of Buhari’s “fiercest critics”, penning biting columns and social media posts. Even in debunking wild conspiracy theories, he often did so with a poisonous twist. A telling example came in 2018 at the height of the absurd “Jibril from Sudan” rumor (the claim that Buhari had died and been replaced by a body double). Kperogi ostensibly dismissed the tale as “implausible absurdity,” yet still seized the moment to ridicule Buhari on the world stage, agreeing with a student’s sneering quip that “while your president certainly isn’t a clone, he sure is a clown”. Such flippant disdain for the truth – mixing fact with personal invective – has become a hallmark of Kperogi’s commentary.
Fast forward to 2025, and Kperogi’s penchant for sensationalism only grew worse. In the immediate aftermath of President Buhari’s death in July, Kperogi decided to weigh in on how Nigerians should react. He argued in one commentary that Nigerians were grappling with “whether it offends decency to celebrate his death… and whether Nigerians should forgive his betrayal of the country”, calling his own views “slightly unconventional”. Indeed, unconventional is an understatement. While Kperogi professed that he personally found no value in rejoicing at anyone’s demise – citing the inevitability of death to all – he also disturbingly rationalized the public celebration of Buhari’s death under certain conditions. He mused that had Buhari died while still inflicting “harsh policies” on the populace, “it would be justified… if people that were being crushed under the weight of his ineptitude and insouciance exulted”. In other words, he effectively endorsed the idea of dancing on a leader’s grave if the timing fit his narrative of comeuppance. Such a ghoulish stance offends basic decency.
Even when Kperogi attempted to sound high-minded by urging restraint, he did so only selectively. Publicly, he admonished people “to resist the temptation to mock the dead,” noting that “we diminish ourselves when we rejoice in another’s demise”. He wrote that Buhari’s death evoked in him “an inexplicable sense of loss” despite their deep differences. Yet in the same breath, he took it upon himself to pronounce that Buhari’s legacy of “betrayal” was “both unforgivable and inerasable” by Nigerians – essentially decreeing that the late President’s “offenses to the Nigerian state” put him beyond any human forgiveness. This contradiction reveals Kperogi’s hypocrisy: he appealed for solemnity and compassion on one hand, but on the other hand he fanned the flames of animosity by insisting that Buhari was beyond redemption even in death. Such posturing was nothing more than vindictiveness dressed up as moral analysis.
The False Divorce Claim: Irresponsible and Hurtful
Kperogi’s worst transgression came on July 16, 2025, when he published a scandalous claim on his verified Facebook page that struck at the heart of Buhari’s family. With an air of absolute certainty, he declared that Nigeria’s former First Lady Aisha Buhari had been “divorced from the late President Muhammadu Buhari before his death.” According to Kperogi, this was not rumor but fact – information from an unimpeachable source, he insisted. He even alleged that Aisha had reverted to her maiden name (Aisha Halilu) well before President Buhari passed away. To bolster this story, Kperogi pointed to circumstantial “evidence” that, in hindsight, was both flimsy and intrusive: he noted that the First Lady hadn’t accompanied Buhari to his hometown Daura upon retirement, that Buhari lived alone in Kaduna afterward, and that when he fell ill, “she reportedly hesitated [to go to London to care for him] because she was no longer his wife.” She only went in his final days “after intense persuasion,” Kperogi wrote. He further insinuated that “during this period of mourning, she seems understandably conflicted about her role” – a snide suggestion that her grief was somehow less legitimate because of an alleged marital rift.
These assertions were invasive, reckless, and deeply hurtful. Kperogi was broadcasting intimate allegations about a private marriage – something clearly beyond the realm of public interest – as if they were gospel truth. He did so without any official documentation, without a single on-record confirmation, and without giving Mrs. Buhari the basic courtesy of responding. In effect, he treated a sensitive family matter as fodder for Facebook gossip, at a time when the woman in question was freshly mourning her husband.
Unsurprisingly, this salacious post went viral, spreading like wildfire across social media and even making its way into some online news outlets. And just as unsurprisingly, it drew sharp backlash. Many Nigerians immediately questioned the veracity of Kperogi’s claim – myself included. We asked: Where is the evidence? Why should we trust this single-source story? Rather than pause and reflect, Dr. Kperogi doubled down. Those of us who dared to challenge him were met not with reasoned explanation, but with derision and insults. He dismissed skeptics as ignorant or blind, effectively insulting our intelligence by implying we “didn’t pay close enough attention” to notice the things he claimed to see. It was an astonishing display of hubris. Instead of a responsible journalist’s healthy skepticism, Kperogi exhibited a propagandist’s certainty – and an egotist’s intolerance for dissent.
Crucially, the people who actually knew the facts were quick to refute Kperogi’s story. Alhaji Sani Zorro, a former aide to Mrs. Buhari, reached out directly and publicly debunked the divorce claim, conveying the former First Lady’s strong denial. According to Zorro – and confirmed by Aisha’s own account – her marriage was intact until President Buhari’s final breath. She never divorced him. In fact, she was by his side in his last moments, and she fully retained her identity as his wife. She even stood grief-stricken at Buhari’s burial in Daura, receiving condolences from dignitaries – an image that utterly contradicts Kperogi’s insinuation that she had “reverted” to some detached role. The notion that her presence during his illness was “merely cosmetic,” as Kperogi offensively suggested, is patently false.
Ethical Violations and Moral Outrage
Kperogi’s conduct in this episode represents a gross violation of journalistic ethics and a breach of basic decency. As a self-proclaimed professor of journalism, he should know that the first obligation of journalism is truth and accuracy – “avoiding the dissemination of false information.” He also should know that “a journalist should respect the privacy of individuals and their families unless it affects public interest.” There was zero public interest served by exposing (or inventing) alleged marital strife between Aisha and her husband. It was salacious private gossip, plain and simple. By broadcasting it without proof, Kperogi violated both the accuracy and privacy tenets of his profession. In the NUJ Code of Ethics, journalists are warned explicitly to avoid sensationalism, libel, and unwarranted invasions of privacy. Kperogi trampled all of these principles.
Even by his own admission, this was a profound lapse of judgment. In his apology, Kperogi confessed: “I shouldn’t have shared it publicly. Period. Doing so violated every moral and ethical principle I cherish and uphold.” Indeed it did. It is telling that he calls it “one of the worst and cruelest lapses of judgment I have ever committed” – a striking concession from someone who has built a career on being judgmental toward others. He acknowledged that the hurt caused by his disclosure far outweighed any supposed “truth” the information contained. That hurt was immense: Mrs. Buhari was reportedly deeply pained by the public airing of this falsehood, as would any widow who suddenly sees gossip mongers questioning the integrity of her marriage in her moment of grief. Kperogi admits he did “not intend to harm” her, but harm her he did.
What makes this saga even more galling is the sheer hypocrisy on Kperogi’s part. This is a man who, just days prior, was preaching about empathy and “the importance of compassion in public discourse” upon Buhari’s passing. He urged that “today is not a moment for bitterness… but an occasion for solemn reflection, for empathy with his grieving family.” Yet Kperogi failed to extend even a shred of that empathy to the grieving widow herself. Instead of solemn reflection, he engaged in rash speculation. Instead of affording the family privacy and respect, he splashed their personal affairs on Facebook. It is a moral failing of the highest order that, while Aisha Buhari was still in mourning clothes, Kperogi chose to propagate a narrative that her marriage had broken down – a narrative she never wanted public, and which she vehemently denies.
By doing so, Kperogi showed callous disregard for the dignity of the dead and the feelings of the living. As one legal commentator noted, “the death of a leader is a moment for dignity, prayer, and restraint – not unverified gossip or salacious speculation.” Kperogi’s actions violated those cultural and ethical sensibilities, effectively politicizing a personal tragedy and undermining the cohesion of the Buhari family at the worst possible time. Even if not punishable by law, this behavior breaches the sacred trust that should exist between a public commentator and the public. It is simply indecent.
Arrogance and Insults in Lieu of Accountability
From a moral standpoint, it is not just the lie itself that offends, but the arrogance with which Kperogi carried it. When confronted with questions and contrary facts, a responsible scholar or journalist would show humility – or at least caution – in the face of possible error. Kperogi did the opposite: he dug in. He treated the absence of evidence as evidence in itself, essentially telling the world, “Trust me, I know this to be true, and if you don’t see it, you’re blind.” Such smug certainty is the enemy of truth. It also revealed a startling contempt for his audience. Those of us who pointed out holes in his story were not engaged or rebutted civilly; we were ridiculed and summarily dismissed. Kperogi heaped scorn and personal insults on anyone who challenged him – a tactic that is as unprofessional as it is unbecoming.
This kind of bullying behavior betrayed Kperogi’s lack of good faith. It suggested that his goal was never to enlighten, but to impose a narrative at all costs – even at the cost of his credibility and our civility. By lashing out at critics instead of answering their legitimate concerns, he lost any moral high ground he might have claimed as a truth-teller. In hindsight, his combative posture hints that he might have sensed his story was built on shaky ground, yet pride and ego wouldn’t let him concede. He preferred to suppress dissent through intimidation. This is utterly unacceptable. No intellectual – and certainly no professor – should conduct discourse in that manner. It is a violation of the principle of fairness and impartiality, which calls on journalists to “provide a right of reply to individuals who are the subject of critical reporting.” Kperogi afforded Aisha no such right of reply, and he spat on the feedback offered by others. In doing so, he showed “academic irresponsibility,” abusing his platform for what can only be described as character assassination.
To Dr. Kperogi, I say this: an apology to Aisha Buhari was the least you could do. But beyond Aisha, you also owe apologies to the many Nigerians you maligned when they rightly questioned you. Your Facebook post did not just hurt the former First Lady; it insulted the intelligence of the public and the integrity of discourse. The “needless and deeply regrettable hurt” you caused, by your own admission, extends to all who care about truth in our public sphere. Those insults you hurled in defense of a lie – they will not be forgotten. True accountability would require you to acknowledge that we, the people who called you out, were right to be skeptical, and that you were wrong to be so caustically dismissive.
Legal Implications: Falsehood Is Not Without Consequence
Beyond the glaring ethical issues, Kperogi’s conduct may well have legal repercussions – a point he would be wise to heed. In Nigeria, reputation is protected by law, even for public figures and even in death to some extent. Spreading a false story that the former First Lady was secretly divorced touches on defamation, privacy, and possibly other torts. Let us be clear: defamation occurs when someone publishes a false statement to a third party that harms another’s reputation. By broadcasting that “Aisha and Buhari had divorced” – a claim which was never confirmed and now appears false – Kperogi absolutely met the first two elements of defamation (falsehood, publication) and very likely the third. This accusation painted Mrs. Buhari in a negative light, implying she misrepresented her status and perhaps suggesting disloyalty or personal failure. Right-thinking members of society could indeed think less of her if they believed she abandoned her husband or lied about her marriage. In fact, accusing Aisha Buhari of misrepresenting her relationship with her husband “may amount to defamation by implication (innuendo)”, as one legal analysis noted, causing “reputational injury to her and the Buhari family.”
It’s true that under common law, one cannot defame the dead – but Aisha Buhari is very much alive, and her own reputation is at stake. Nigerian law (as well as Islamic law applicable in the North) recognizes the rights of a spouse and family not to have their honor unjustly tarnished. If a false claim like this causes people to scorn or ridicule her, it is actionable. Let’s not forget, Mrs. Buhari has shown willingness in the past to defend her reputation through the courts – for instance, she once sued a sitting governor for defamatory statements, underscoring that she does not take such attacks lightly. Kperogi could very well have been facing a lawsuit for libel or slander here.
Another angle is the tort of injurious falsehood. This is similar to defamation but focuses on false statements made maliciously that cause damage to a person’s interests (particularly economic or relational interests). By alleging that Aisha “was no longer Buhari’s wife” and implying she had to be begged to care for him while he was dying, Kperogi’s post clearly had the tendency to cause public contempt for her. It painted her as someone who might have deserted her ailing husband – a damaging insinuation that could hurt her public image and opportunities. If proven that he made these claims with reckless disregard for the truth (which he effectively admitted), that edges into malice. Under the law, a malicious falsehood that impugns someone’s title or status (in this case her status as legitimate wife and widow) is grounds for a civil action. In plain terms, he wronged her in a way that the law recognizes and can remedy.
Moreover, given the context, we should consider the cultural and religious gravity of Kperogi’s lie. President Buhari and Aisha were Muslims married under Islamic law. In Islam (and under Shari’ah as observed in Northern Nigeria), falsely accusing a woman of improper marital conduct or claiming she is divorced without evidence is extremely serious – it can be deemed “qadhf” (false accusation), which is considered sinful and in some cases criminal. Importantly, the burden of proof is on the accuser to prove a divorce in such matters. Kperogi had no proof whatsoever. His public claim violated not only civil norms but potentially religious ones, amounting to a form of slander in the community’s eyes. This deepens the offense because he was not just commenting on a political figure; he was trampling on personal status issues governed by both law and faith.
Kperogi should also remember that freedom of speech is not freedom from consequences. Nigeria’s legal system (including our cybercrime laws and Penal Code) does provide for penalties against spreading false information that harms others. As the Western Post aptly put it, “platform holders have a duty to verify facts, especially when speaking on sensitive private matters like death, divorce, or legacy.” When that duty is flouted, there may be legal reckoning. If Mrs. Buhari had chosen to sue, Kperogi could have faced a rigorous court battle to defend his actions – a battle he would likely lose, given that truth is the primary defense in defamation and he had none to offer. In the end, he saved himself from this by retracting the claim and apologizing. But the fact remains: what he did was potentially libelous. As the saying goes, no one is above the law – “not even columnists with global platforms like Kperogi.”
Conclusion: A Call for Accountability and Integrity
Farooq Kperogi’s handling of this episode has been a masterclass in irresponsibility, and it must be condemned in the strongest terms to discourage such behavior in our public discourse. He spread a hurtful falsehood about a family at their lowest moment, defended it with unprofessional ferocity, and only backtracked when the weight of evidence (and public anger) left him no choice. While his apology to Mrs. Buhari was necessary and appropriate, it does not erase the damage done – to the Buhari family, to those he insulted, and to the standards of journalism he professes to uphold.
From a moral perspective, Kperogi’s actions were shameful. They violated the basic human decency we owe to one another, especially in times of grief. No pundit or professor should ever forget their humanity in pursuit of a scoop or a “well-sourced” story. Kperogi did, and in doing so he lost a great deal of respect and credibility. He chose gossip over compassion, ego over truth, and malice over humility. That is a stain on his integrity that an apology alone cannot wash away.
From a legal perspective, his actions were playing with fire. The “reckless commentary” he engaged in carried “legal danger” – exposing him to potential defamation claims and other liabilities. He would do well to remember that in the eyes of the law, reputations are not fair game for casual speculation. There are consequences for spreading lies, and he narrowly avoided learning about them in court. This incident should serve as a warning to all commentators: rumor-mongering can get you sued, and being a scholar or social media celebrity will not shield you from accountability.
Moving forward, I urge Dr. Kperogi to reflect deeply on the ethical duties of his platform. He owes not just Aisha Buhari, but the public at large, a commitment to do better. If he truly “cherishes and upholds” moral and ethical principles as he claimed in his apology, let him demonstrate that by exercising caution, compassion, and professionalism in all future commentary. Let him also extend apologies to the individuals he insulted along the way – because a truly contrite person makes amends not only to the powerful figure they wronged, but also to the ordinary people whose only “crime” was speaking truth to him.
Finally, to my fellow Nigerians: let this episode strengthen our resolve to hold public figures accountable. Misinformation is a cancer in our society, and it is especially pernicious when spread by those who should know better. We must continue to challenge false claims and demand evidence, no matter who is making the claim. Whether it’s a WhatsApp rumor or a professor’s Facebook post, a lie is a lie, and it must be confronted. Farooq Kperogi’s falsehoods have been exposed and retracted, but the lesson lingers: Integrity matters. Truth matters. And those who abuse their influence to peddle lies and insult our collective intelligence must be called out, without fear or favor.
In the end, “commentary is not immunity,” as one observer noted. Freedom of expression carries responsibility. Dr. Kperogi has learned this the hard way. May this be the last time he – or anyone in our commentariat – wilfully violates the sacred trust of the public. Nigeria deserves better from its intellectuals and journalists. And when they fall short, we will not hesitate to condemn it in unambiguous terms.
Sources:
•Sahara Reporters – “Aisha Buhari Was Divorced From Late President Buhari Before His Death – Farooq Kperogi”
•TVC News – “Kperogi Retracts Buhari Divorce Claim, Apologises To Aisha Buhari”
•Politics Digest – “Why I Won’t Celebrate President Buhari’s Death — Farooq Kperogi”
•Farooq Kperogi (Notes From Atlanta) – “Celebrating Buhari’s Death Vs Forgiving Him”
•Farooq Kperogi (Notes From Atlanta) – “Apology to Aisha Buhari”
•Western Post – “Farooq Kperogi, divorce allegations, and the Aisha Buhari controversy: The legal danger of reckless commentary”
•Farooq Kperogi (Notes From Atlanta, 2018) – “Buhari: Not a Clone but a Clown”
•Oyeniyi is an Associate Professor at the Missouri State University. He can be reached by email at BukolaOyeniyi@missouristate.edu
