Socio-Economic Rights and Accountability Project has asked the National Assembly to probe the chairman of the Independent National Electoral Commission, Mahmood Amupitan, over a resurfaced post on his X handle that appeared to favour President Bola Tinubu. The civil-society group, in a statement on Sunday, said the lawmakers should use their constitutional oversight powers to conduct a "credible, impartial, transparent and effective" inquiry into both the comment and the commission's explanation. SARAP did not specify the date of the post or the exact wording, but described the content as "serious allegations" that could compromise public trust in the electoral body. INEC had earlier dismissed the viral screenshot as fake, insisting Amupitan never tweeted any partisan statement. SARAP countered that only an independent legislative probe can clear the air and protect the integrity of future elections. The organisation warned that lingering doubts about the chairman's neutrality could erode voter confidence ahead of the 2027 general elections.
Dragging an INEC chair over an old tweet is not about the tweet; it is about the fragile credibility the commission has left. Amupitan's problem is that Nigerians have seen previous chairmen promise neutrality and still deliver disputed outcomes, so any hint of partisanship—real or forged—lands like petrol on a smouldering bush.
The National Assembly is the perfect stage for this drama. Senators who themselves benefited from INEC's past rulings will now investigate the referee, knowing the cameras are rolling and 2027 is already casting shadows. Expect loud speeches, a promise of "thorough" hearings, then a quiet burial once the news cycle moves on.
For the ordinary voter, the implication is simple: whether the tweet is fake or not, the trust deficit widens. Young first-time registrants who queued for hours in 2023 will now ask why they should bother if the umpire is perceived to be wearing a party badge. Each unsubstantiated rumour they believe makes PVCs stay at home on election day.
This is part of a larger pattern: Nigerian public institutions rarely exit a scandal cleaner than they entered. From CBN governors to EFCC chairs, every denial is followed by a shrug from citizens who have memorised the script. Unless Amupitan opens his phone and data logs in public view, the stain sticks—and the cycle of disputed mandates continues.
