Confusion As A Weapon: The Moral Fraud of Convenient Silence

By Dahiru Yusuf Yabo

Political & Security Analyst, Former Commissioner, CPC Governorship Candidate (2011)

There is a dangerous pattern unfolding in our public space—one that thrives not on truth, but on calculated confusion. It is the deliberate distortion of issues by those who, rather than confront responsibility, choose the comfort of silence, deflection, and self-serving narratives. This is not mere intellectual laziness; it is moral fraud.

When individuals entrusted with influence abandon their duty to clarity, they weaponize confusion against the very public they claim to serve. They shift the conversation away from substance, manufacture sympathy on irrelevant grounds, and exploit institutional processes to shield glaring inadequacies. In doing so, they insult not only the intelligence of the public but also the very principles of fairness and accountability.

What we are witnessing is not ignorance—it is strategy. A strategy where personal interest overrides public duty. Where truth is buried under layers of diversion. Where the accused become the victims, and those demanding accountability are painted as aggressors. This inversion of reality is both cynical and dangerous.

It is within this context that the attempt to deploy the past of Prof. Joash Amupitan as a shield for present concerns must be firmly rejected. Records of past service, however distinguished, or otherwise cannot be converted into a perpetual license against scrutiny. Trajectory is not immunity. The past and the present must be assessed on their separate merits—objectively, dispassionately, and without prejudice. To conflate them is to corrupt the very idea of justice.

Worse still, when the past is weaponized as emotional leverage, it becomes an instrument of coercion—a tool for blackmail and intimidation rather than a source of reflection. This is not respect for legacy; it is abuse of legacy. It bends the rules of engagement and distorts due process in favour of personality over principle. No individual, regardless of stature, should be allowed to mortgage the integrity of institutions on the altar of past glory.

The abuse of process is perhaps the most troubling dimension. Mechanisms designed to ensure justice and transparency are hijacked, not to uncover facts, but to construct cover. It is a betrayal of trust. It is an affront to every citizen who believes that institutions exist to protect the collective good, not to serve as safe havens for individual failings.

Let us be clear: sleeping on one’s responsibility for convenience is not neutrality—it is complicity. When those who should speak choose silence, or worse, deploy their voices to mislead, they become active participants in the erosion of public trust. They send a clear message that integrity is negotiable, that accountability is optional, and that influence can override truth.

This conduct also reveals a deeper contempt—for the feelings of others, for due process, and for the very idea of compliance. It reduces public discourse to a theatre of manipulation, where emotions are exploited and facts are irrelevant. Such behavior corrodes not only institutions but the moral fabric of society itself.

Our elders captured this hypocrisy long ago in a simple but piercing Hausa adage: “Kana bisa naka laifi kana hange na wani”—you stand firmly on your own wrongdoing while pointing fingers at others. It is a timeless indictment of those who refuse introspection, choosing instead to deflect blame and manufacture distractions.

The implications are grave. A society that tolerates this culture of confusion risks normalizing deception as a tool of engagement. It risks raising a generation that sees accountability as weakness and manipulation as strength. It risks turning its institutions into arenas of convenience rather than pillars of justice.

This must not stand. Public responsibility is not a decorative title—it is a burden of truth. It demands courage, honesty, and respect for the collective intelligence of the people. Anything less is a betrayal.

The time has come to reject this calculated confusion, to call out the moral fraud it represents, and to insist—firmly and unequivocally—that truth is not negotiable, accountability is not optional, and public trust is not a commodity to be traded.

Anything short of this is not just failure. It is complicity.