The House of Representatives’ ad hoc committee investigating the controversial Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council (PFIPC) is approaching the end of what has become one of the most embarrassing oversight exercises of the 10th National Assembly.

Since the probe began, lawmakers have uncovered forged State House documents, questionable approvals by government institutions, irregular budgetary allocations, office accommodation in the Federal Secretariat and the operations of a council that investigators say had no legal basis.

Yet, despite the scale of the scandal, one decision by the committee has generated almost as much attention as the revelations themselves: its refusal to invite Femi Gbajabiamila, Chief of Staff to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu and former Speaker of the House of Representatives.

For many observers of Nigeria’s Parliament, the decision raises an important institutional question. Can a legislative investigation into an alleged fraud of this magnitude be regarded as exhaustive when one of the principal figures repeatedly mentioned in the proceedings was never publicly heard?

The committee insists the answer is yes. Critics disagree.

The House constituted the ad hoc committee after allegations emerged that the PFIPC had operated as a government agency despite lacking any statutory backing.

Over two weeks, the committee heard from officials of the Office of the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, the Budget Office, the Office of the Head of the Civil Service of the Federation, the Accountant-General of the Federation, the Nigeria Police Force, the Federal Ministry of Finance, the Federal Ministry of Budget and Economic Planning and other agencies.

Witness after witness acknowledged lapses that enabled the council to gain an appearance of legitimacy.

Esther Walson-Jack, the Head of the Civil Service, admitted that adequate due diligence was not carried out before recruitment approvals were granted.

Shamseldeen Ogunjimi, the Accountant-General, disclosed that a forged State House letter was used in obtaining official recognition and processing government actions relating to the council.

Investigators also established that the PFIPC was allocated office accommodation within the Federal Secretariat and secured a budgetary provision running into billions of naira before questions were raised about its legitimacy.

The committee further revealed that investigators had identified numerous allegedly forged documents linked to the council.

By every standard, the findings pointed to significant failures within Nigeria’s public administration.

The missing witness

Throughout the investigation, the name of Gbajabiamila surfaced repeatedly.

Several documents allegedly bore his signature from his time as Chief of Staff, while the alleged PFIPC promoter, Adeniyi Adeyemi, reportedly cited interactions involving the Presidency.

These references naturally fuelled calls for the committee to hear directly from the Chief of Staff, not necessarily because he was presumed guilty of wrongdoing, but because parliamentary investigations traditionally seek evidence from every major actor whose office features prominently in the facts under review.

The principle is straightforward.

Legislative oversight is not merely about assigning blame. It is also about establishing a complete factual record.

Many analysts including therefore expected the committee to invite Gbajabiamila to explain any documents linked to his office, clarify procedures followed within the Presidency and address public concerns generated by the scandal.

Instead, the committee decided otherwise.

Why the committee declined

Several civil society organisations and public interest advocates have argued that the House of Representatives cannot credibly conclude its investigation into the controversial Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council (PFIPC) without hearing from Gbajabiamila.

Their position is anchored on the fact that the Chief of Staff to the President was repeatedly mentioned during the committee’s proceedings and that some of the documents under scrutiny allegedly bore his signature or originated from his office.

They contend that inviting him would not amount to an indictment but would provide an opportunity to clarify the circumstances surrounding the disputed documents and strengthen public confidence in the investigation.

Among the most vocal groups is the Centre for Democratic Integrity (CDI), which criticised the committee’s decision to end the probe without inviting Gbajabiamila.

The organisation described the move as a serious omission, arguing that “no investigation into the PFIPC controversy can be considered comprehensive when one of the principal individuals repeatedly referenced during the proceedings is not given the opportunity to testify.”

The group maintained that parliamentary oversight must be seen to be impartial and thorough, particularly in matters involving allegations of forgery and abuse of government processes.

The Conference of Nigeria Political Parties (CNPP) also joined the call, urging the House to summon the former Speaker to provide explanations on issues arising from the investigation.

The umbrella body of political parties argued that public confidence in the outcome of the probe would be strengthened if all individuals whose names featured prominently in the proceedings were afforded the opportunity to appear before lawmakers.

According to the CNPP, legislative investigations are expected to establish a complete factual record, irrespective of the status or office of those involved.

Legal practitioners and governance analysts have expressed similar views, stressing that the House’s constitutional oversight function extends beyond determining criminal liability.

They argue that hearing from Gbajabiamila would have enabled lawmakers to clarify administrative procedures within the Presidency, authenticate or discredit documents linked to his office, and answer lingering public questions.

While acknowledging that the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) and other security agencies are conducting separate investigations, they insist that parliamentary accountability demands a broader examination of institutional failures, making testimony from key public officials essential to the credibility of the committee’s final report.

Yusuf Gagdi, the Committee Chairman announced that the investigation would conclude without hearing either Gbajabiamila or Adeyemi.

Gadgi who had initially asked the police to produce the embattled PFIPC promoter after a lot of pressure from groups backtracked and said none of the parties directly involved needed to be present at the hearing.

According to him, sufficient documentary evidence had already been obtained to enable the committee complete its assignment.

He also cited ongoing criminal investigations by the Nigeria Police Force, the Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC), the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), the Department of State Services (DSS) and the Office of the National Security Adviser.

In Adeyemi’s case, the committee noted that court proceedings had commenced following his remand, making additional legislative questioning unnecessary.

The committee maintained that documentary evidence, including what it described as 19 forged State House documents provided enough material upon which lawmakers could base their recommendations.

From a procedural standpoint, that explanation is not entirely unusual.

Legislative committees frequently rely on documentary evidence where criminal investigations are already underway, partly to avoid interfering with prosecutions.

However, the decision becomes more controversial when it concerns a public official whose office features prominently in the evidence collected.

Accountability Versus Criminal Liability

One issue often misunderstood in legislative investigations is the distinction between parliamentary oversight and criminal prosecution.

The House is not a criminal court.

Its responsibility is to determine whether public institutions discharged their constitutional responsibilities properly, identify systemic failures and recommend reforms.

That responsibility exists independently of any police investigation or criminal trial.

Even if no wrongdoing were ultimately established against Gbajabiamila, a public appearance before the committee could have served several important purposes.

It could have clarified whether any documents attributed to his office were genuine or forged.

It could have explained internal vetting procedures within the Presidency.

It could also have helped establish whether existing administrative safeguards are adequate to prevent similar incidents.

These are oversight questions rather than criminal allegations.

Politics inevitably shapes public perception of legislative investigations.

Gbajabiamila is not only the President’s Chief of Staff; he remains one of the most influential political figures produced by the House of Representatives.

Having served as Minority Leader, Majority Leader and eventually Speaker of the Ninth House, he built extensive relationships across party lines.

Many members of the current House either served under his leadership or entered Parliament during his tenure as Speaker.

That political reality has led some commentators to question whether institutional relationships influenced the committee’s decision.

However, there is no publicly available evidence proving that the committee declined to invite him because of his political influence.

Without documentary proof or an admission by committee members, attributing such a motive would be speculative.

Nevertheless, perception matters in Parliament.

When a central figure is not publicly questioned, critics naturally ask whether every witness received equal treatment.

Outside the National Assembly, civil society organisations openly challenged the committee’s decision.

Several advocacy groups argued that excluding Gbajabiamila weakened the credibility of the investigation.

Their argument was not necessarily that he had committed any offence, but that fairness required every principal figure mentioned during proceedings to have an opportunity to testify.

Some groups described the omission as a missed opportunity to strengthen public confidence in parliamentary oversight.

Others warned that selective hearings risk reinforcing long-standing public scepticism about whether politically exposed persons receive preferential treatment during investigations.

Such criticisms underscore the delicate balance legislative committees must maintain between procedural efficiency and public confidence.

A Different Approach by the ICPC

Interestingly, while the House chose not to invite Gbajabiamila, the ICPC reportedly took a different path.

Following President Bola Tinubu’s directive for anti-corruption agencies to investigate the PFIPC controversy, Gbajabiamila honoured an invitation by the commission and reportedly provided investigators with his account.

The difference between the two approaches highlights the distinct mandates of criminal investigators and parliamentary committees.

The ICPC seeks evidence capable of supporting or disproving criminal liability.

The House seeks accountability and institutional reform.

These mandates overlap but are not identical.

Indeed, one could argue that the existence of criminal investigations made parliamentary clarification even more important, since legislative oversight examines policy failures that criminal prosecutions may never address.

Beyond personalities, the PFIPC saga exposes broader weaknesses in Nigeria’s governance architecture.

How did an entity lacking statutory backing reportedly secure recognition across multiple government institutions?

How were recruitment waivers processed? Why were financial approvals granted? What verification mechanisms failed? Why did forged documents pass through official channels?

These questions point to systemic deficiencies extending far beyond any individual. The committee deserves credit for uncovering many of these failures.

Its hearings exposed weaknesses in document verification, inter-agency communication and administrative oversight.

Those findings could lead to stronger institutional safeguards if implemented. Yet legislative oversight derives much of its legitimacy from public confidence.

When major actors are absent from public hearings, however justifiable the procedural reasons may be, questions inevitably linger.

Beyond the PFIPC

The controversy also offers lessons for future parliamentary investigations.

First, committees should clearly communicate the legal basis for excluding witnesses whose names arise repeatedly during proceedings.

Second, where criminal investigations limit legislative action, committees should explain precisely how those limitations affect oversight responsibilities.

Third, Parliament should distinguish more clearly between determining criminal guilt and examining institutional accountability.

Doing so would help prevent public confusion about why certain witnesses appear while others do not.

Most importantly, legislative investigations should strive to leave as few unanswered questions as possible.

Oversight is most effective when both the findings and the process command public confidence.

As the House prepares to present its final report, the PFIPC investigation will likely be remembered for exposing glaring administrative failures that allowed an allegedly non-existent government council to obtain official recognition, secure budgetary allocations and interact with public institutions.

Whether the committee’s recommendations lead to meaningful reforms remains to be seen.

However, its decision not to hear from Femi Gbajabiamila will almost certainly remain one of the most debated aspects of the inquiry.

The committee maintains that documentary evidence was sufficient and that parallel criminal investigations made additional testimony unnecessary.

That explanation is legally defensible.

Politically, however, the decision leaves room for continuing debate about transparency, accountability and the standards expected of parliamentary oversight.

In the end, the PFIPC saga is about more than one council or one witness. It is a test of Parliament’s ability to demonstrate that no institution, no office and no public official is beyond the reach of legislative scrutiny.

Whether Nigerians believe that standard was fully met is a question that will continue to shape public assessment of the House’s handling of one of its most consequential investigations.