Editorial: Tinubu's Constitutional Crime in Plain Sight

If the allegations now before the Nigerian public are even remotely true, then President Bola Tinubu has crossed a constitutional rubicon from aggressive governance into outright lawlessness; presiding over one of the gravest assaults on Nigeria’s constitutional order since the return to civil rule. The charge is not trivial. It is not procedural nitpicking. It is not partisan noise. It is the alleged post-passage alteration of Acts of the National Assembly; the insertion, deletion, and modification of substantive provisions in bills after lawmakers had concluded debate, voting, and passage. The post-passage alteration, deletion, falsification, or insertion of provisions into bills already passed by the National Assembly is not a procedural lapse. It is not a clerical error. It is not a difference of interpretation. It is a direct assault on the Constitution, a forgery of the sovereign will of Parliament, and a textbook violation of the separation of powers upon which the Nigerian Republic rests. In any constitutional democracy worthy of the name, this is not merely misconduct. It is an abuse of executive power of impeachment-grade severity.

 

Nigeria’s Constitution is unambiguous. Legislative power resides in the National Assembly. Once the National Assembly passes a bill, the executive has only three lawful options: assent, veto, or return it for reconsideration. There is no fourth option called executive editing. There is no constitutional gray zone; no executive editing room, no post-legislative “corrections,” no is no constitutional license or authority to smuggle in stealth amendments or new provisions in the dark corridors between passage and gazetting. Any deviation from this process is legislative fraud and governance by forgery.

 

The allegations raised by members of the House of Representatives, and now amplified by the Peoples Redemption Party (PRP), point to something far more sinister than bureaucratic overreach: a deliberate subversion of parliamentary sovereignty - the conversion of executive assent into executive authorship. If verified, this conduct amounts to the executive arrogating to itself powers it does not possess, rewriting laws it did not debate, and imposing provisions Nigerians never consented to through their elected representatives. This usurpation collapses the doctrine of separation of powers into executive fiat and reduces Parliament to a ceremonial inconvenience. The gravity of the accusation cannot be overstated. A president who permits, or worse, authorizes the manipulation of laws after legislative passage is no longer executing the law. He is manufacturing it unilaterally. This is not merely illegal. It is anti-democratic.               

 

Let us be very clear here, because the Constitution demands it. Section 58 does not empower the President to rewrite laws. Section 59 does not allow aides, ministries, or faceless bureaucrats to amend legislation in transit to the Federal Gazette. Any law that differs materially from what Parliament passed is not lawfully enacted. It is a constitutional counterfeit. If this tampering is traced, directly or indirectly to the President, then the threshold of “gross misconduct” under Section 143 is not merely met; it is smashed. Gross misconduct includes violations that undermine the Constitution or threaten democratic governance. Altering Acts of Parliament after passage does both. It is legislative fraud executed with executive muscle.

 

The implications are staggering. Investors rely on statutory certainty. Citizens rely on the predictability of law. Courts rely on the integrity of enacted texts. When laws become fluid documents, rewritten behind closed doors after parliamentary approval, the rule of law becomes a farce and governance degenerates into administrative improvisation. Even more disturbing is the arrogance implied by such an act. It signals an executive that no longer sees itself as bound by process, but entitled to outcomes. It reflects a mindset where legality is negotiable, Parliament is subordinate, and constitutional checks are treated as irritants rather than guardrails. Tinubu was not elected to be a legislative ventriloquist. He was sworn to “preserve, protect, and defend” the Constitution; not to annotate it after hours.

The National Assembly now stands at a crossroads. It can either defend its institutional sovereignty or confirm its own irrelevance. A comprehensive, transparent investigation is not optional. If discrepancies exist between bills passed and laws gazetted, those responsible must be identified, sanctioned, and prosecuted. If the trail leads to the Presidency, impeachment is not extremism; it is constitutional duty.

Equally urgent is the immediate suspension of the disputed tax laws. No democracy enforces laws whose legal parentage is in question. To do so would compound illegality with coercion.

 

This is not just about tax policy. It is about constitutional survival. A government that edits laws after passage is not governing; it is falsifying. And a President who tolerates or authorizes such conduct places himself above the law he swore to uphold. Nigeria has endured many abuses of power. It must not normalize this one. If the Constitution is to mean anything beyond ceremonial prose, then this moment must be met with firmness, clarity, and courage. Because when the executive starts rewriting laws in secret, democracy is no longer bent. It is broken

 

Mr. President must be reminded: the authority of his office does not place him above the law. It binds him more tightly to it. Power does not excuse illegality; it magnifies it. A president who tolerates the falsification of laws invites constitutional anarchy and legitimizes lawlessness at every level of the state.

Nigeria has endured enough executive contempt for institutions. It has paid too high a price for the casual vandalism of due process. This moment demands clarity, courage, and constitutional fidelity, not denial, delay, or diversion. The question before the nation is stark: will Nigeria remain a republic governed by laws passed in daylight, or slide into a system where laws are rewritten in shadows? History will not be kind to those who choose silence over the Constitution.