Taraba SEMA Boss: Police Invite Activist Over Facebook Post Questioning Relief Distribution
By: Abudu Olalekan
Knocking at his door came officers – over a basic inquiry into who gets food and beds meant for struggling families. This whirlwind now swirls around Abdulmumin Imam, known for defending people’s rights.
Fights broke out online after Imam used Facebook to challenge Dr. Echuseh Audu, head of Taraba’s emergency team. That agency runs critical operations – distributing rice, groundnut oil, plus bedding for displaced families and others barely making it across the region.
Imam basically asked: “Is this stuff actually reaching the people, or is something fishy happening behind the scenes?”
Of course, Dr. Audu wasn’t happy about it. Rather than speak up and set things straight, she supposedly chose the harshest route. According to those familiar with the situation, her first move was quiet pressure. Contacting shared acquaintances, she insisted Imam remove the post – alongside a public apology. Then silence followed.
Still, Imam refused to move. Holding firm, he said people deserve to see where aid supplies actually go.
Filing came after he stood his ground instead of backing down. Police received it with claims attached – online harassment, damaging someone’s name on purpose, threats meant to scare. What usually happens when those in power think they’re being watched.
Right away, the officers moved quickly. An invite arrived for Imam from the State Criminal Investigation Department in Jalingo. Signed by ACP Idoko James Oche, it set a date – April 1 – for him to come in. Though worded politely – “kindly asked to attend an interview with the Deputy Commissioner of Police” – the meaning hit hard: things had turned serious.
Dr. Audu and SEMA – neither has stepped up with clear answers to what Imam asked. Silence hangs where replies should be.
Funny thing happened Saturday – out comes a broad comment from the office. Claiming full openness, they noted aid had reached more than fifty thousand displaced folks plus those hit by floods statewide. Then Audu chimed in, urging listeners to shrug off stories doubting her leadership.
Here we go again. One person demands proof, while across the room, power answers with officers at the door. The rhythm never changes. A question rises, then silence follows – enforced by uniforms, not words. Back and forth it goes, like clockwork dressed up as debate.
Folks are watching closely – what comes next might unfold behind closed doors or under bright lights. Right now, nerves across Taraba feel stretched tight.
