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Reuben Abati And His 30 Shekels Of Silver By B.U. Nwosu

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In the end, this is sad, short history of Mr. Reuben Abati, a once-gifted journalist, who sold his birthright for a plate of porridge, and now wanders the wilderness like a lost soul, looking for a master that will throw him a fat, bloodstained, fresh, juicy bone!

Mr. Reuben Abati loves money, and you will see the evidence before the end of this essay. His recent attempt to link the struggles of the members of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) for self-determination to drug trafficking should not go unanswered, as people like Mr. Abati are ever ready to carry out the dirty deeds of corrupt and repressive regimes for a dirty sack of money. Additionally, the Ooni of Ife might be exposing himself to grave danger by including Mr. Abati’s name on the list of Yoruba think tank who will negotiate Sunday Igboho’s fate with Buhari’s junta. We will explain this in detail below. This essay is not an attack on Reuben Abati, for he has many vulnerabilities. Rather, it is an expose on a man who rose from humble beginnings to become the prince of brown envelope syndrome in Nigeria. For non-Nigerian readers, brown envelope syndrome is the art of bribing journalists in Nigeria with money, stashed in big brown envelopes, for the purpose of buying their silence and killing their stories.

Before his recent metamorphosis, Mr. Abati was a scrappy journalist at the Guardian newspaper in Nigeria where he wrote ceaselessly on the ills of the Nigerian society. If you read his weekly diatribes before 2014, you would think that this man was so pure and upright that the translucent blood of angels flowed in his veins. His strident, tortured, cacophonic notes reached a dizzying crescendo during the term of President Goodluck Jonathan, whom he savaged daily on the pages of Nigerian newspapers, not because Jonathan was a bad leader, but because Mr. Jonathan hailed from the South-South ethnic minority region of Nigeria. To bigots like Mr. Abati, President Jonathan had no business running the affairs of Nigeria. Thus, Mr. Abati swore that Mr. Jonathan must be disgraced out of office and his wife called unprintable names on the pages of Guardian newspaper. Then one day, President Jonathan, in his quiet manner, threw Mr. Abati a fat, juicy bone that he could not refuse! He invited Mr. Abati into his administration to serve as his special media adviser. That singular masterstroke ended the career of the fire-spitting, restless Abati as a bona fide journalist. In one split second, Mr. Abati went from Jonathan’s greatest attacker to Jonathan’s meek and lowly errand boy as he groveled and salivated at the foot of Jonathan while scurrying around for favors at the presidential palace.

But there was a darker side to Abati’s metamorphosis. In a bid to show Jonathan that he was a faithful servant, he became the brown envelope merchant of the Federal government of Nigeria. He set out with gusto to catch and kill any unpalatable stories about his turncoat era as a sycophantic journalist who has sold out his noble profession! He spent his time distributing money in brown envelopes to members of the Nigerian media who had anything unpalatable to write about him or Jonathan’s government. He even went as far as offering bribes to Nigerian journalists overseas to induce them to write pleasant stories about his role in the administration.

But something more damaging happened to Mr. Abati’s soul. With millions of dollars at his disposal, he became brazenly corrupt. The lion’s share of the money for silencing fellow journalists began to make their way into his wallet. His intellectual sharpness dwindled, his judgement turned erratic, and his ability to write forcefully with great flourish vanished into the winds. He became a Samson without his hair. And he became bitter because deep down he knew that he had sold his intellectual gift for dirty lucre. In his bitterness, he metamorphosed into a Nigerian version of Judas Iscariot and was secretly baying for the blood of his master.

In 2015, Mr. Abati betrayed his master! In a last-minute bid to corral votes from the Southwestern geopolitical region of the country, where Mr. Abati hailed from, President Jonathan gave Mr. Abati the keys to the campaign war chest so he could run the table in the Southwest by setting the famed Yoruba amala politics on the overdrive. This meant that Mr. Abati had the carte blache to buy up all votes in Southwestern Nigeria and sweep Jonathan to a decisive victory. President Jonathan placed all hopes on Mr. Abati to deliver. But Mr. Abati turned on him, pocketed the millions of campaign dollars, and worked secretly with Buhari’s campaign as an embedded spy to deliver a sinister coup de grace on poor President Jonathan. Mr. Jonathan lost the election and Mr. Abati fled Aso Rock with his millions, but never recovered his intellectual edge.

Since 2015, Mr. Abati has been searching for relevance as a journalist, a profession he can no longer grasp, as he had sold his soul to his Fulani master, Buhari. His essays are now infrequent, bland, dull, and unreadable as he has lost his grip on the righteous indignation that propelled him to dizzying heights at the Guardian. Everyone knows that Mr. Abati is living on stolen Nigerian wealth, and people who live on stolen Nigerian money are always restless. But Mr. Abati’s restlessness has risen sharply as his stolen money is now running out and he needs to refill his coffers

It is possible that the current dictator of Nigeria, Buhari, who used Mr. Abati to scuttle Jonathan’s chances for electoral victory in Southwest has now found a new use for Mr. Abati’s restless soul: employ him as an agent of disinformation against the struggles of the IPOB. But IPOB will match him pen for pen, word for word, paragraph for paragraph, and expose him for what he is: a fraud.

Along the same line, the Ooni of Ife, who recently added Mr. Abati’s name to the list of Yoruba think tank who will meet with the Buhari junta over Mr. Sunday Igboho’s fate, and the future of the greater Yoruba race, should know that Mr. Abati will be wearing a wire at all their meetings and will be transmitting every deliberation at the meeting to Aso Rock in real time! My prediction is that before the end of this year Mr. Abati will deliver the Ooni and the other Yoruba leaders to his Fulani masters on a platter, pocket his dirty millions, and go looking for other paymasters.

In the end, this is sad, short history of Mr. Reuben Abati, a once-gifted journalist, who sold his birthright for a plate of porridge, and now wanders the wilderness like a lost soul, looking for a master that will throw him a fat, bloodstained, fresh, juicy bone!

B.U. Nwosu

Culled from the Sahara Reporters 

Texas Guardian News

Houston

Turnout, Trust, and Ground Game: What Decided Houston’s Runoff Elections

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Low-turnout runoff races for Houston City Council and Houston Community College trustee seats revealed how message discipline, local credibility, and voter mobilization determined clear winners—and decisive losers.

The final ballots are counted, and Houston’s runoff elections have delivered clear outcomes in two closely watched local races, underscoring a familiar truth of municipal politics: in low-turnout elections, organization and credibility matter more than name recognition alone.

In the race for Houston City Council At-Large Position 4, Alejandra Salinas secured a decisive victory, winning 25,710 votes (59.27%) over former council member Dwight A. Boykins, who garnered 17,669 votes (40.73%). The margin was not accidental. Salinas ran a campaign tightly aligned with voter anxiety over public safety and infrastructure—two issues that consistently dominate Houston’s civic conversations. Her emphasis on keeping violent criminals off city streets and expanding Houston’s water supply spoke directly to quality-of-life concerns that resonate across districts, especially in an at-large contest where candidates must appeal to the city as a whole.

Salinas’ win reflects the advantage of message clarity. In a runoff, voters are not looking to be introduced to candidates—they are choosing between candidates they are already familiar with. Salinas presented herself as forward-looking and solutions-oriented, while Boykins, despite his experience and political history, struggled to reframe his candidacy beyond familiarity. In runoffs, nostalgia rarely outperforms momentum.

The second race—for Houston Community College District II trustee—followed a similar pattern. Renee Jefferson Patterson won with 2,497 votes (56.63%), defeating Kathleen “Kathy” Lynch Gunter, who received 1,912 votes (43.37%). Though the raw numbers were smaller, the dynamics were just as telling.

Patterson’s victory was powered by deep local ties and a clear institutional vision. As an HCC alumna, she effectively positioned herself as both a product and a steward of the system. Her pledge to expand the North Forest Campus and direct resources to Acres Home connected policy goals to place-based advocacy. In trustee races, voters often respond less to ideology and more to proximity—those who understand the campus, the students, and the neighborhood. Patterson checked all three boxes.

By contrast, Gunter’s loss highlights the challenge of overcoming a candidate with genuine community roots in a runoff scenario. Without a sharply differentiated message or a strong geographic base, turnout dynamics tend to favor candidates with existing neighborhood networks and direct institutional relevance.

What ultimately decided both races was not a surprise, but execution. Runoffs reward campaigns that can re-mobilize supporters, simplify their message, and convert familiarity into trust. Salinas and Patterson did exactly that. Their opponents, though credible, were unable to expand or energize their coalitions in a compressed electoral window.

The lesson from Houston’s runoff elections is straightforward but unforgiving: winners win because they align message, identity, and ground game. Losers lose because, in low-turnout contests, anything less than that alignment is insufficient.

Texas Guardian News
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Africa

Nigeria–Burkina Faso Rift: Military Power, Mistrust, and a Region Out of Balance

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The brief detention of a Nigerian Air Force C-130 Hercules aircraft and its crew in Burkina Faso may have ended quietly, but it exposed a deeper rift shaped by mistrust, insecurity, and uneven military power in West Africa. What was officially a technical emergency landing quickly became a diplomatic and security flashpoint, reflecting not hostility between equals, but anxiety between unequally matched states navigating very different political realities.

On December 8, 2025, the Nigerian Air Force transport aircraft made an unscheduled landing in Bobo-Dioulasso while en route to Portugal. Nigerian authorities described the stop as a precautionary response to a technical fault—standard procedure under international aviation and military safety protocols. Burkina Faso acknowledged the emergency landing but emphasized that the aircraft had violated its airspace, prompting the temporary detention of 11 Nigerian personnel while investigations and repairs were conducted. Within days, the crew and aircraft were released, underscoring a professional, if tense, resolution.

Yet the symbolism mattered. In a Sahel region gripped by coups, insurgencies, and fragile legitimacy, airspace is not merely technical—it is political. Burkina Faso’s reaction reflected a state on edge, hyper-vigilant about sovereignty amid persistent internal threats. Nigeria’s response, measured and restrained, reflected confidence rooted in capacity.

The military imbalance between the two countries is stark. Nigeria fields one of Africa’s most formidable armed forces, with a tri-service structure that includes a large, well-equipped air force, a dominant regional navy, and a sizable army capable of sustained operations. The Nigerian Air Force operates fighter jets such as the JF-17 and F-7Ni, as well as A-29 Super Tucanos for counterinsurgency operations, heavy transport aircraft like the C-130, and an extensive helicopter fleet. This force is designed not only for internal security but for regional power projection and multinational operations.

Burkina Faso’s military, by contrast, is compact and narrowly focused. Its air arm relies on a limited number of light attack aircraft, including Super Tucanos, and a small helicopter fleet primarily dedicated to internal counterinsurgency. There is no navy, no strategic airlift capacity comparable to Nigeria’s, and limited logistical depth. The Burkinabè military is stretched thin, fighting multiple insurgent groups while also managing the political consequences of repeated military takeovers.

This imbalance shapes behavior. Nigeria’s military posture is institutional, outward-looking, and anchored in regional frameworks such as ECOWAS. Burkina Faso’s posture is defensive, reactive, and inward-facing. Where Nigeria seeks stability through deterrence and cooperation, Burkina Faso seeks survival amid constant internal pressure. That difference explains why a technical landing could be perceived as a “serious security breach” rather than a routine aviation incident.

The incident also illuminates why Burkina Faso continues to struggle to regain political balance. Repeated coups have eroded civilian institutions, fractured command structures, and blurred the line between governance and militarization. The armed forces are not just security actors; they are political stakeholders. This creates a cycle where insecurity justifies military rule, and military rule deepens insecurity by weakening democratic legitimacy and regional trust.

Nigeria, despite its own security challenges, has managed to avoid this spiral. Civilian control of the military remains intact, democratic transitions—however imperfect—continue, and its armed forces operate within a clearer constitutional framework. This stability enhances Nigeria’s regional credibility and amplifies its military superiority beyond hardware alone.

The C-130 episode did not escalate into confrontation precisely because of this asymmetry. Burkina Faso could assert sovereignty, but not sustain defiance. Nigeria could have asserted its capability, but chose restraint. In the end, professionalism prevailed.

Still, the rift lingers. It is not about one aircraft or one landing, but about two countries moving in different strategic directions. Nigeria stands as a regional anchor with superior military power and institutional depth. Burkina Faso remains a state searching for equilibrium—politically fragile, militarily constrained, and acutely sensitive to every perceived threat from the skies above.

Texas Guardian News
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Bizarre Epstein files reference to Trump, Putin, and oral sex with ‘Bubba’ draws scrutiny in Congress

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The latest tranche of emails from the estate of late convicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein includes one that contains what appear to be references to President Donald Trump allegedly performing oral sex, raising questions the committee cannot answer until the Department of Justice turns over records it has withheld, says U.S. Rep. Robert Garcia, the top Democrat on the House Oversight Committee.

Garcia insists the Trump White House is helping block them.

In a Friday afternoon interview with The Advocate, the out California lawmaker responded to a 2018 exchange, which was included in the emails released, between Jeffrey Epstein and his brother, Mark Epstein. In that message, Mark wrote that because Jeffrey Epstein had said he was with former Trump adviser Steve Bannon, he should “ask him if Putin has the photos of Trump blowing Bubba.”

“Bubba” is a nickname former President Bill Clinton has been known by; however, the email does not clarify who Mark Epstein meant, and the context remains unclear.

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