Natasha Resumes at Senate: “Akpabio is a Dictator,” Sparks New Tensions

By: Abudu Olalekan

Well, she’s back. After six long months, Senator Natasha Akpoti-Uduaghan walked back into the National Assembly on Tuesday. But this wasn’t a quiet, head-down return. Far from it. The lawmaker representing Kogi Central came out swinging, and her target was none other than the Senate President himself, Godswill Akpabio. Her chosen word for him? Dictator. Yeah, that got people’s attention.

The whole scene unfolded after the official unsealing of her office, Suite 2.05. It had been locked up since March. The man with the key, so to speak, was Deputy Director of the National Assembly Sergeant-at-Arms, Alabi Adedeji. In a short, almost ceremonial moment caught on video, he declared the office open for business again. A simple act, but one that ends a deeply complicated political standoff. Or does it?

Because Natasha wasn’t about to act like nothing happened. Standing her ground, she made it clear she had “no apology to tender.” None whatsoever. In her view, the entire ordeal was an unjust abuse of power. “It is amazing what we had to pass through,” she reflected, giving credit to God and thanking the people of Kogi Central. She even gave a heartfelt shout-out to her husband, a nod to the personal toll these political battles take.

But then the tone shifted. From gratitude to defiance. “Sometimes it is good to push the institution to the test,” she stated. This is where the storytelling gets real. She wasn’t just talking about a policy disagreement. This was personal. “Senator Akpabio is not more of a senator than I am,” she asserted. “He is not the governor of this place, yet he treated me as if I were a servant or domestic staff in his house.” The frustration was palpable. Her final verdict? “It is so unfortunate that we will have a National Assembly being run by such a dictator. It is totally unacceptable.”

Let’s rewind a bit. How did we get here? Back in March, Akpoti-Uduaghan was handed a six-month suspension. The official reason was misconduct, stemming from a protest over the reassignment of her seat in the chamber. But these things are never just about the official reason, are they? The suspension formally ended in September, but returning wasn’t that simple. There were legal hurdles, resistance from the leadership. It’s like trying to leave a room when someone is holding the door shut from the other side.

Then, a game-changer. On July 4, the Federal High Court in Abuja stepped in. The judges called the suspension excessive. Unconstitutional, even. That ruling was her key. She wrote to the Senate, saying she was ready to come back. The response was… let’s call it a cold shoulder. So Tuesday’s unsealing is a major step, but it leaves a big, unanswered question hanging in the air: Is she fully back? When plenary resumes, will she be allowed to sit with her colleagues and vote? Or is this a partial return, a technical compliance with the court order that doesn’t quite restore her voice? Nobody really knows for sure.

And speaking of plenary, there’s another twist. The Senate leadership has quietly pushed back the resumption date. Again. They were supposed to come back on September 23. Now? October 7. An internal memo from the Chief of Staff to the Senate President, Chinedu Akubueze, made the announcement, apologizing for the “belated information.” The official reason given to reportersroom was to let lawmakers fully observe Independence Day on October 1. A patriotic delay, sure. But you don’t have to be a cynic to wonder if there’s more to it.

Shifting the calendar by two weeks means critical debates get put on ice. Oversight inquiries into how the government is spending money, approvals for executive appointments—all of it just sits there. Waiting. It’s a delay that has raised eyebrows all over the Assembly.

So where does this leave us? A senator is back in her office, but the war of words is far from over. The Senate President faces a very public accusation of dictatorship from within his own chamber. And the entire legislative machine is on an extended pause. This isn’t just a story about a suspension ending. It’s a story about power, resistance, and the messy, unpredictable drama of Nigerian politics. One thing’s for certain, all eyes will be on that chamber on October 7. The show is far from over.