Austine Ibok: The buffoonery of a Hollow Man

By Linus Obogo

For long, I have ignored Austin Udo Ibok for his diatribes and tirades against institutions and constituted authorities. In his self-adorned role of an ombudsman, he has carried on as a loose cannon and a moral arbiter of Cross River politics. But for how long should Austin Ibok be allowed to carry on with his chicanery?

For a medley of Cross Riverians, Ibok comes across as a brute, a political and social vagabond, a nitwit and scoundrel. But where exactly can I situate him? Align with the above superlatives or differ?

In the vast gallery of political charlatans, where fraudulence masquerades as principle and treachery parades as integrity, Austine Ibok’s name gleams with a peculiar infamy. A man of no particular distinction beyond his proclivity for deceit, he now postures as a crusader of financial probity, clutching at the Constitution with hands soiled by years of unbridled avarice. His recent assault on Governor Bassey Otu’s administration, couched in the garb of legal reasoning, is nothing more than the bleating of a disgraced opportunist whose moral bankruptcy disqualifies him from lecturing on uprightness.

It is rich—nay, comically absurd—that a man with a history of scandalous escapades now pretends to be the sentinel of local government funds. This is the same Austine Ibok whose tenure as Secretary of the Cross River chapter of the Inter-Party Advisory Council (IPAC) was a festival of fraud, a carnival of corruption where financial mismanagement reigned supreme. His subsequent role as Special Adviser on Inter-Party Affairs under the immediate past administration was no different—an office he reduced to a personal cash cow, selling political appointments meant for persons of other political parties. To hear such a man pontificate about accountability is akin to hearing a fox advocate for the safety of chickens.

And who can forget his infamous role at the 2019 PDP Presidential Convention in Port Harcourt? The scene was as shameful as it was predictable: a man entrusted with the financial welfare of Cross River’s delegates, vanishing into the night like a common pickpocket, leaving behind bewildered party members and a stench of betrayal so foul that even his closest associates struggled to defend him. That money, meant to support the state’s political machinery, found its way not into the hands of the rightful recipients but into the deep abyss of Ibok’s insatiable greed. A man who fled with party funds now dares to speak of fiscal responsibility? The irony is staggering.

His crimes did not end there. The embezzlement of funds meant for repentant militants—a despicable act that denied amnesty beneficiaries their rightful reintegration into society—remains one of the most unforgivable stains on his record. Money that should have been used to steer young men away from a life of violence and crime instead lined the pockets of a man whose existence is a monument to political parasitism. And now this same man, reeking of fraud and betrayal, wags his finger at Governor Otu, attempting to frame him as the architect of financial malfeasance? The audacity is galling.

Beyond his fraudulent past, Ibok’s attack on Governor Otu collapses under the weight of its own intellectual shallowness. His fundamental misunderstanding of constitutional law exposes him not as a serious commentator but as a desperate provocateur grasping at legal straws. The Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria is unequivocal in its provisions: Chapter 6, Part 1, Section 162 establishes the State Joint Local Government Account, placing LGA funds under the purview of the state government. No judicial ruling can upend a constitutional provision without due amendment. To suggest otherwise is either a display of ignorance or a deliberate attempt to mislead the public—both of which Ibok has mastered over the years.

The Supreme Court, as established in Chapter 7, Part 1, Section 230, is not a legislative body. It interprets the law but does not rewrite it. The recent ruling on local government autonomy is not a decree for the immediate and unilateral transfer of funds to LGAs but a guideline that must align with existing constitutional frameworks. Governor Otu, in recognizing this reality, operates within the ambit of the law, unlike Ibok, whose entire political career has been a tragicomedy of legal and ethical infractions.

Moreover, Ibok’s diatribe against the distribution of vehicles to LGA officials betrays either a lack of administrative insight or a deliberate intent to sow discord. Providing mobility to council leaders is not an affront to fiscal responsibility; it is a necessary facilitation of governance. The question of whether the vehicles were procured directly or through LGA input is a matter of administrative discretion, not constitutional breach. If Ibok were genuinely concerned about financial prudence, he would have directed his outrage at the countless misappropriations under previous administrations—many of which he directly participated in.

His sudden epiphany on local government autonomy reeks of opportunism. Where was this voice when previous administrations plundered council funds with reckless abandon? Where was this righteous indignation when LGA allocations were siphoned off under the watch of his political benefactors? The truth is that Austine Ibok’s newfound activism is not rooted in principle but in desperation—an attempt to claw his way back into relevance after a few years of being justly sidelined.

Governor Bassey Otu, unlike the mercenaries who have long feasted on Cross River’s resources, remains committed to governance that is both lawful and progressive. His administration, rather than engaging in the reckless mismanagement that Ibok fraudulently attributes to it, is navigating the complexities of governance with far more wisdom than a disgraced former political operative could ever comprehend.

Austine Ibok, with his tainted hands and soiled reputation, is the last person to speak of justice, legality, or accountability. His past is an open book of treachery; his present, an exercise in bitter irrelevance; and his future, an inescapable reckoning with the consequences of his own misdeeds. The people of Cross River deserve better than the poison he peddles, and history will remember him not as a defender of democracy but as a footnote in the annals of political infamy and a puppet in the echo chamber of his expired and diminishing political puppeteers in PDP.

Obogo is Special Adviser to Governor Bassey Otu on Media and Publicity.

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