FCT Council Election Vote-Buying Allegations Rock Gwagwalada Polling Unit
By: Abudu Olalekan
Ahead of dawn, whispers spread through the voting crowd. Cash changed hands near a ballot box in Gwagwalada. One person spoke up – no hiding it – money had been given. The moment reached light just as polls opened. Accusations took root fast across the city. A single admission sparked wider claims.
A hush hung over Kutunku I Primary School that Saturday, deep in Kutunku Ward. Already, the sun pressed down hard. Groups of people dotted the yard, talking low, eyes moving, holding their breath. In Nigeria, election mornings tend to taste like promise – yet also doubt. So did this.
A quiet mood started changing when a voter in their middle years said something at the polling place. It wasn’t loud. There was no anger behind it. More like sharing a regular moment from life.
Folks saw PDP-connected operatives handing out cash to people eligible to vote.
He said it changed each time. One day ₦2,000. The next, a bit higher.
That was when his words caused people standing close by to glance over.
It came out that he took five thousand naira himself.
A man told how he never meant to vote in the FCT council poll. At the start, it felt like none of his business. Then came a shift. A person talked to him. Another gave him support. Money appeared in his hand, he stated.
“I had no plan to do any election this year,” he said, speaking in a relaxed tone. “But because of Usman Nga’aha and his people, they made me come here.”
Again he said the name after being told to explain it once more.
“Usman Nga’aha gave me ₦5,000,” he said.
A couple of people near him looked at each other. A quiet smile showed on some faces. Still others acted like they weren’t paying attention.
He kept talking, his voice rising a little as if he had something to prove.
“If you vote for PDP, they will give you ₦2,000,” he added.
Asked again if cash had shaped his decision, he replied with tangled feelings showing. The words felt real. Yet they left things unclear.
“I didn’t say I don’t need their money,” he said. “I just like them. I just vote for them. I don’t need their money. I just vote. I get joy for them.”
Simple his words sounded. Yet underneath ran a thread of truth about local races – places where staying power, raw need, and chance tangle without warning.
Voting continued.
Still, officials kept their eyes on each step. Progress crept forward, inch by inch. Meanwhile, whispers of bribed votes floated through neighborhoods where ballots were cast.
Not everyone took it seriously.
Others said it was wrong.
Some folks mentioned it stayed this way forever.
Money changing hands for votes keeps popping up when towns and cities pick their local leaders. Groups watching these events say more cash creeping into races risks twisting how people take part, particularly in neighborhood contests where tracking payments feels nearly impossible.
Folded notes pass between fingers. Often, trades unfold quietly. A nod means agreement. Handshakes finish fast. Promises stay unspoken.
Yet in places such as Kutunku, things slip into view.
Through quiet moments instead. Through unmarked paths, sometimes.
Yet by just talking like people do every day.
Later on, people showed up slowly to cast ballots. Lines grew longer at times, then shrank, only to grow once more. Workers managing the polls kept things running – still, talk of secret money lingered beneath quiet voices.
Some folks have seen this before. When voting time hits, it shows up. Afterward, it disappears. Back it comes, later on.
A flash of time. Cash arrives fast. What follows lasts much longer.
Later on, things slowed down at the voting center. Yet what happened stayed clear in everyone’s minds – proof that trust in elections, when you’re close to the ground, keeps demanding more than just paper and symbols.
