EFCC Under Fire:

The VeryDarkMan Case and the Crisis of Nigeria’s Anti-Corruption Fight

Nigeria’s anti-graft agency, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), was born in December 2002 as a bold new weapon against corruption. In its first years it charged dozens of prominent officials and boasted recovering billions of dollars, but its record soon drew criticism. A 2011 Human Rights Watch report noted that only four high‐level convictions had resulted from that early surge, and warned the EFCC’s media‐savvy chairman was often seen enforcing “selective” agendas tied to the presidency. Today, Nigerians praise the idea of a robust anti-corruption force, but worry that the EFCC’s power has become unchecked: arrests have sometimes seemed theatrical, politically biased, or shrouded in secrecy. Lawyers and activists complain that the agency at times “degenerat[es] into an instrument of repression against dissenting voices” rather than a neutral law enforcer. Indeed, recent weeks have seen an outpouring of concern that the EFCC has abused its mandate and violated basic legal safeguards in pursuing cases.

VeryDarkMan’s Arrest: A Test of Power and Rights

This anxiety exploded on May 2, 2025, with the abrupt arrest of Martins Vincent Otse (born 1994), better known on social media as “VeryDarkMan” (VDM). Otse is a 31‑year‑old activist and online commentator who rose to fame after 2022 for his hard‑hitting videos on corruption and injustice. (In 2024 he even faced cyberstalking charges over a celebrity video, a case he pleaded not guilty to.) On that spring day he and his mother went to a GTBank branch in Abuja to investigate unauthorized debits from her account. As they stepped out, a team of plainclothes security officers – later revealed as a joint DSS/Police/EFCC operation – swooped in and hauled Otse into custody. Witnesses and CCTV footage show a violent scuffle: as he was restrained, Otse was reportedly called a “bandit” and allegedly manhandled by officers. The group was taken to the EFCC headquarters in Jabi, Abuja, under the charge of cyberstalking.

EFCC spokesmen have since stated that Otse’s arrest was based on “multiple petitions” accusing him of cyberstalking and other offences. The agency insists it has a duty to act on complaints from any citizen, and that Otse will be released on bail and arraigned formally in court once the paperwork is ready. Yet key questions remain unanswered. Who actually ordered this operation? EFCC lines blame ordinary petitioners and claim GTBank had no special role, but Otse’s friends and supporters say the bank collaborated – posting his arrest warrant inside the branch door and helping EFCC agents detain him without explanation. A veteran activist even hinted on Instagram that a gospel singer might have instigated the case (an unproven allegation widely linked to singer Mercy Chinwo). In practice, the EFCC and other security forces appear to have treated Otse as a suspect in a police drama. Authorities have shown Otse a magistrate’s warrant for cyberstalking issued in Wuse, Abuja, but his lawyers say EFCC officers refused to explain the charges at the time of arrest.

The harsh circumstances of Otse’s detention have provoked outcry. Legal representatives and civil rights groups lambast the operation as unlawful and politically motivated. The Public Interest Lawyers League (PILL) – headed by Abdul Mahmud, a respected human‐rights advocate – decried the warrantless arrest and prolonged detention as “another instance of growing disregard for constitutional safeguards”. Citing Section 35 of the 1999 Constitution, PILL pointed out that no one may be held beyond 48 hours without charge, and demanded Otse’s immediate release or prompt arraignment as the law requires. Similarly, the human rights writers’ group HURIWA accused the EFCC of playing henchman for GTBank – “an unmitigated illegality” – because the bank’s customer was actually the alleged victim. International advocates have joined in: Amnesty International called for Otse’s “immediate release,” branding the detention an “abuse of power aimed at silencing dissent”. Amnesty warned that using cybercrime law in this way sets a chilling precedent for all Nigerian digital activists.

Public figures have also rallied to Otse’s side. Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar decried the arrest on social media as “another blatant abuse of power by the Tinubu administration,” while opposition leader Peter Obi likened the raid to a kidnapping. Obi noted that such heavy‑handed tactics “instill fear in the public” and blur the line between legitimate policing and unlawful abduction. A teeming protest erupted in Abuja on May 4–5: hundreds of youths rallied at the GTBank branch and EFCC headquarters, carrying placards reading “Free VDM” and vowing to take the case to the Nigeria Human Rights Commission. Pop culture icons lent their voices: pop star Davido tweeted “Free my guy” to thousands of followers, and pro-democracy poet Seun Kuti publicly questioned who truly orchestrated the arrest. Even a student leadership controversy (“adoption” of NANS president) drew attention to the theme, with Obi warning that “the oppression of young voices…is a dangerous path we must not normalize”.

Legal and Constitutional Flashpoints

The VeryDarkMan affair has shone a harsh spotlight on Nigerian law and rights. Under the 1999 Constitution, every citizen enjoys fundamental freedoms: the right to liberty, due process, and free expression. Section 35 guarantees that no one can be “deprived of his personal liberty except in accordance with law,” while most detentions must be followed by formal charge or release within 48 hours. Otse’s lawyers point out that he was held well beyond that window without court appearance, violating both Section 35 and international human rights norms. Worse, Section 39 expressly says **“Every person shall be entitled to freedom of expression, including…impart[ing] ideas and information without interference”**. By that standard, Otse’s work as a social commentator – challenging elites and exposing wrongdoing – is constitutionally protected speech. Yet authorities have effectively criminalized it under cybercrime allegations that critics call frivolous.

This clash raises a stark political question: should Nigeria’s security agencies operate as arbiters of legitimate speech? Historically, governments have sometimes used the EFCC and other forces to stifle critics under pretext of anti-corruption or cyber laws. In the last few years alone, a crackdown on online activism has deepened. Freedom House now rates Nigeria partly free on the net, noting that “authorities continue to crack down on protesters, online activists, and journalists who publish content that negatively portrays powerful individuals”. Civil society had cheered a February 2024 amendment to the infamous “cyberstalking” law, but that reform has not prevented fresh abuses: the VeryDarkMan case underlines how the Cybercrimes Act can still be wielded to intimidate dissent. And politically, the spectacle of the EFCC grabbing an obscure blogger after he criticized institutions has already ruffled Nigeria’s image abroad – precisely at a time when investors and diplomatic partners are questioning rule-of-law in the new administration.

In Nigeria’s current context of digital activism – from #EndSARS protests to online whistleblowers – the stakes are high. If popular commentators fear arrest, or if ordinary citizens know banks and powerful figures can mobilize federal agencies against them, the public sphere will shrink. As Obi warned, treating activists like criminals “when those who interpret the law are treated with such disregard, it is difficult to expect ordinary citizens to feel protected under the law”. Many Nigerians see the VDM affair as emblematic: it is not about one man’s guilt, but about who wields power and under what rules.

Patterns of Abuse and Political Bias

The controversy around VeryDarkMan has revived long-standing critiques of the EFCC’s modus operandi. Observers note that this is not an isolated incident, but part of a pattern. In recent years the EFCC has become notorious for high-profile arrest stings and viral videos, often criticized as “showboating.” (Recall how it paraded socialite Bobrisky, or televised celebrity fraud suspects; critics say these stunts generate headlines rather than convictions.) Human rights groups have repeatedly pointed out that the EFCC often targets low-level or political opponents while powerful insiders escape justice. In fact, 19 state governors went to the Supreme Court to challenge the EFCC’s very authority — a suit the court dismissed in late 2024, further solidifying EFCC’s broad reach across federal and state domains. That ruling was hailed by the EFCC chairman as a victory, but critics worry it also removes a check on its power.

What stands out in the VDM case is how the EFCC has portrayed itself. After two days of silence, it publicly confirmed the arrest only after mounting pressure, and then bluntly referred to multiple petitions – without naming anyone or showing evidence. This opacity has fueled suspicion that the agency may be serving private interests. HURIWA’s Onwubiko bluntly asks: “EFCC exists to defend the wealthy while intimidating and harassing ordinary citizens?”. The use of a Cybercrime warrant over a bank dispute has especially raised eyebrows: it appears to invert the EFCC’s role, protecting a commercial entity rather than the public. Such anomalies are hard to reconcile with the EFCC’s founding vision as a corruption-fighting body. Instead, Nigerians see a security force looking over its shoulder for politicians or businessmen, rather than listening to citizens. In that sense, VeryDarkMan’s case is viewed as symptomatic of institutional misuse of power — a warning sign for democracy and civil liberties.

Recommendations: Accountability, Reform and Rights Protection

It is telling that almost every sector – legal, political, civil society – has called for remedies. In the short term, Otse’s supporters demand what the law mandates: either formal charges must be filed immediately or he must be freed. Public Interest Lawyers explicitly urged the EFCC to “respect our clients’ constitutionally guaranteed rights”. On May 5 Vanguard reported an EFCC insider saying Otse would be released on Tuesday and charged on Thursday, under heavy public scrutiny. If true, that is the bare minimum of due process. Even beyond VDM’s case, legislators – including some sympathetic to the ruling party – have started calling for EFCC to justify its actions. A minority caucus of House members has reportedly urged the commission to either release Otse or charge him without further delay.

For the medium term, structural fixes are needed. First, oversight and transparency around EFCC operations must improve. The National Assembly could revive the EFCC Establishment Act review, perhaps inserting stricter rules on arrest and bail, oversight by independent boards, and requirements to publish case summons. The Supreme Court’s ruling has effectively affirmed EFCC’s broad powers, but lawmakers can still legislate checks: for example, clarifying that complainants in civil disputes (like banking cases) should not automatically trigger criminal prosecutions without due process. Second, Nigeria should ensure that cybercrime and other security laws cannot be misused to muzzle free speech. Civil society has long advocated passing a Digital Rights and Freedom Bill to enshrine internet freedoms; this case underscores that urgent need. Amendments to the Cybercrimes Act (such as those in 2024) must now be rigorously enforced to distinguish real cyber‑harassment from political speech. Moreover, training is needed so police, DSS and EFCC personnel understand constitutional rights: arrests without warrants or proper notification should become exceptions, not norms.

On the protection of expression and digital activism, several steps could help. The government and civil society should reinforce that Nigerians have the right to criticize and organize online – for example, by funding public-education campaigns on legal rights, supporting secure digital tools, and ensuring institutions like the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) are accessible to victims of abuse. Activist groups might also establish legal aid funds to quickly challenge unlawful detentions (through habeas corpus petitions) and to hold banks or agencies accountable. In fact, Otse’s lawyer has already announced intentions to sue GTBank for its role in the incident. Such cases, if won, would send a powerful message that citizens can seek redress.

In the end, the EFCC must answer to the Nigerian people, not to secret backers. The consensus of legal experts and international watchers is clear: the commission’s mandate is legitimate, but only if wielded with restraint. As Peter Obi put it, Nigeria needs “a country where youth can speak freely, judges can serve with dignity, and institutions act responsibly”. That future requires both protesting unlawful acts – as Nigerians are doing now and laying a legal foundation for transparency and accountability. If the arrest of VeryDarkMan turns into a catalyst for such reforms, it might yet vindicate those who say “OpWatch!” – Nigerian shorthand for “Our power, our accountability.” Otherwise, citizens will remember this moment as a lesson in the dangers of unchecked state power.

In short, Nigeria can only tame corruption by strengthening the rule of law, not bypassing it. The VeryDarkMan case is a wake-up call one that Nigerians and observers abroad will remember. Its resolution will say a lot about whether the nation’s anti-graft crusade truly defends justice, or is wielded as a weapon against the powerless.

Sources: Recent reporting from Sahara Reporters, Premium Times, Vanguard and others has been relied on above. Legal excerpts are drawn from Nigeria’s Constitution. All cited information is current as of May 2025.