Nasir El-Rufai

El-Rufai sues ICPC over validity of search warrant

Following the 19th February 2026 search of his residence by officials of the ICPC, Malam Nasir El-Rufai has asked a Federal High Court to declare the search warrant as invalid. The case, which seeks the enforcement of his fundamental rights, named as respondents the ICPC, the Chief Magistrate of the FCT, the Inspector-General of Police and the Attorney-General of the Federation.

The case is seeking a declaration:
• That the search warrant is invalid, for lack of particularity, material drafting errors, ambiguity in ex*****on parameters, overbreadth and lack of probable cause.

• The invasion and search of his residence based on an invalid search warrant amounts to a gross violation of his fundamental human rights to dignity of the human person, personal liberty, fair hearing and privacy under Sections 34, 35, 36 and 37 of the Constitution.

• Any evidence obtained pursuant to the invalid warrant and unlawful search is not admissible in any proceedings against him as it was obtained in breach of constitutional safeguards.

Malam El-Rufai is also seeking an injunction restraining the respondents from using or tendering any evidence or items seized during unlawful search in any proceedings involving him. He is seeking an order for the return of all items obtained during the search, and an order for various damages.

According to the court filing “the search warrant is fundamentally defective, lacking specificity in the description of items to be seized, containing material typographical errors, ambiguous ex*****on terms, overbroad directives, and no verifiable probable cause, in contravention of Sections 143-148 of the Administration of Criminal Justice Act, 2015 (ACJA), Section 36 of the Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Act, 2000 (ICPC Act), an constitutional protections against arbitrary intrusions. “

Malam El-Rufai’s lawyers contend that:
• Section 143 of the ACJA requires that an application for a search warrant be supported by information in writing and on oath, setting forth reasonable grounds for suspicion, which was absent here as evidenced by the incomplete initiating clause;

• Section 144 mandates particular descriptions of the place to be searched and the items sought, to prevent general warrants, yet the warrant vaguely refers to "the thing aforesaid" without any detail;

• Section 146 stipulates that the warrant must be in the prescribed form, free from defects that could mislead, but the document is riddled with errors in the address, date, and district designation;

• Section 147 allows direction to specified persons, but the warrant's indiscriminate addressing to "all" officers is overbroad and unaccountable;

• Section 148 permits ex*****on at reasonable times, but the contradictory language creates ambiguity, undermining procedural clarity.

Signed
Muyiwa Adekeye
Media Adviser
23rd February 2026

Please join me in a conversation with Charles Aniagolu on AriseTV’s Prime Time today at the new time of 6pm.

National Security, Justice, and the People’s Wellbeing: Reclaiming the Purpose of Power

Nasir Ahmad El-Rufai, 08 February 2026.

At this critical juncture in our national life, it is vital that we speak about something that touches every breath we take in this country: security and justice. Not as abstract phrases buried in policy documents, but as the air our children breathe, the peace of our homes, the freedom to move, speak, and live without fear.

At its heart, national security exists for only one purpose: to ensure that Nigerians may live long, live well, and live in peace with one another. Nigeria’s own National Security Strategy (2019) affirms that “security is the cornerstone of development and progress in a free society, and a guarantee of the well-being of citizens and stability of the state.” National security, properly understood, is therefore inseparable from national wellbeing.

A state that is secure, but whose people live in fear is not secure. A nation whose institutions are armed but hollowed out is not stable. And a republic that protects power but abandons justice is already in decline. Yet over the past 26 years of our democratic experience, we have watched this noble idea steadily mutate into something narrower, more cynical, and more dangerous. The national security apparatus and the criminal justice system have increasingly been repurposed, not to protect the Nigerian people and the institutions of state, but to protect incumbents, preserve political dominance, and shield incompetence from accountability. This is the central crisis of our national security today.

National Security versus Regime Security
There is a profound and consequential difference between protecting the country and protecting a regime. The state is permanent. Governments are temporary. Institutions endure beyond administrations. Regimes do not.
True national security is about defending the Constitution, safeguarding territorial integrity, preserving public order, protecting lives and property, and ensuring that the machinery of the state functions for the benefit of all citizens—regardless of who holds office. It is the human security of the people in a country and the society in which they function that is ultimately national security.

Regime security, by contrast, is about preserving power at all costs. It treats political opposition as an enemy, criticism as sabotage, and dissent as treason. It converts security agencies from neutral guardians of the republic into partisan tools of intimidation. It mistakes loyalty to individuals for loyalty to the state.

Nigeria’s prevailing security paradigm today is regrettably closer to the latter. Instead of defining, defending, and advancing our national interest, the system has been reduced to regime preservation—the protection of power for a narrow clique that has conflated its own survival with the survival of Nigeria itself. This is not only morally wrong; it is strategically disastrous.

The Misuse of Security Agencies
We have seen, repeatedly and openly, how institutions meant to protect Nigerians have been diverted from that sacred responsibility. The Police, the DSS, the EFCC, the ICPC, and even segments of the judiciary are increasingly perceived—rightly or wrongly—as instruments deployed selectively against those considered politically inconvenient. The lawful mandates vested in these public institutions to target criminals who endanger public safety, drain national wealth or terrorize communities are often distorted into cudgels against opposition figures, perceived critics, or individuals with followership outside the ruling circle.

Friends, family members, associates—real or imagined—are swept into investigative dragnets not because of credible evidence, but because of proximity. This is not law enforcement. It is collective punishment. It is partisan fear wearing the uniform of the state.

When security agencies abandon professional restraint and constitutional neutrality, three things happen:
1. Public trust collapses.
Citizens stop seeing security agencies as protectors and begin to see them as predators.
2. Professional capacity erodes.
Time, intelligence, and resources are diverted from fighting terrorism, banditry, kidnapping, and violent crime toward political witch-hunts.
3. Institutions become personalised.
Officers begin to serve individuals rather than the Constitution, undermining discipline, morale, and long-term effectiveness.

The National Security Strategy itself recognises the need to move away from a purely state-centric model toward a comprehensive, human-centred approach to security. But this shift becomes impossible when the coercive powers of the state are weaponised against segments of the population.

The Consequences of Persisting on This Path
The consequences of prioritising regime security over state security are neither theoretical nor distant. They are already unfolding before our eyes:

First, it weakens the Nigerian state itself.
Institutions lose credibility. Laws lose moral force. Orders are obeyed not out of respect, but out of fear. And fear, unlike legitimacy, cannot sustain a nation.

Second, it deepens insecurity rather than reducing it.
When citizens distrust the police and intelligence services, they withdraw cooperation. Intelligence dries up. Criminal networks thrive. Violent non-state actors exploit the resulting vacuum.

Third, it radicalises political competition.
When lawful opposition is criminalised, politics moves outside institutional channels. Dialogue collapses. Extremism flourishes. The centre can no longer hold.

Fourth, it corrodes economic confidence.
Investors—local and foreign—are hesitant and cautious about committing capital to systems where the law is unpredictable and enforcement is selective. Arbitrary power is the enemy of development.

Finally, it endangers democracy itself.
A democracy where security agencies serve incumbents rather than institutions ceases to be a democracy in substance, even if elections continue in form. History teaches us a sobering lesson: regimes that rely on coercion rather than competence eventually collapse, and when they do, they often take the state down with them.

A Different Vision of National Security
This is why I stand for a Nigeria where national security is anchored in shared values, constitutionalism, and the dignity of the citizen. A Nigeria where we agree—across party, region, and creed—on certain non-negotiables:
• That security agencies owe allegiance to the Constitution, not to individuals.
• That justice must be blind to political affiliation.
• That opposition is not an enemy of the state but an essential feature of democracy.
• That the wellbeing of the Nigerian people is the ultimate measure of security success.

National security is ultimately about protecting Nigerian homes, Nigerian livelihoods, and Nigerian futures. It is about ensuring that each of us may live long—but if, by the will of Almighty Allah, we cannot all live long, then at the very least, each of us must live well, with dignity and without fear. National security is not about preserving the comfort, serenity, or unchecked dominance of the temporary occupants of A*o Rock. It does not belong to the President, his family, or their enablers. It belongs to the Nigerian people.
Until we reclaim this truth—until security agencies return to their proper role as guardians of the state and servants of the Constitution—there can be no lasting peace, no genuine stability, and no peace of mind for Nigeria.