By Mike Odeh James and Olikita Ekani
Abuja—When Nigeria’s former President, Muhammadu Buhari, appointed Dr. Isa Ali Ibrahim Pantami as Minister of Communications and Digital Economy in 2019, Nigeria’s tech community celebrated.
Many thought that a young, educated cleric with a PhD in computer science had entered government — a fusion of faith and innovation, many said.
Minister With Inclination For Terrorism
But beneath the applause lay a darker truth: Pantami had once openly supported Osama bin Laden, sympathised with Boko Haram founder Mohammed Yusuf, and endorsed jihad against “unbelievers.” Years before joining government, he praised terrorists and condemned Nigeria’s security forces for fighting them.
That such a man could become a cabinet minister in Africa’s largest democracy remains one of the most troubling commentaries on Nigeria’s political decay, says David Onyilokwu Idah, Director, International Human Rights Commission Abuja.
A Cleric Shaped by Fire
Born in 1972 in Gombe State, Pantami rose from the pulpit of the Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University (ATBU) Mosque in Bauchi, where he served as Imam. During his tenure, Bauchi was a hotbed of sectarian violence. In 2004 and 2005, riots between Christians and Muslims left scores dead and churches burned.
While no court implicated him, witnesses and scholars said Pantami’s fiery sermons fanned the flames of extremism. Human Rights Watch reported that preachers in Bauchi “helped legitimize revenge killings and religious retaliation.”
Pantami’s recorded sermons from the mid-2000s paint a chilling picture. In one, he mourned the death of Osama bin Laden, calling him “a better Muslim than many rulers today.” In another, he praised the Taliban for their “commitment to jihad.”
He also condemned Nigerian soldiers for killing Boko Haram fighters, describing them as “our Muslim brothers being killed unjustly.”
Those remarks circulated within Islamist circles until they resurfaced in 2021, igniting national outrage.
From Preacher to Minister
After earning his PhD in the UK, Pantami returned to Nigeria and quickly rose in government. As Director-General of the National Information Technology Development Agency (NITDA), he gained visibility and the trust of northern power brokers, eventually earning Buhari’s confidence and a cabinet position.
According to Idah, “Pantami’s transformation from radical cleric to digital reformer might have seemed improbable elsewhere.
“But in Nigeria — where political loyalty and religion often outweigh moral scrutiny — it was simply business as usual. The former President appointed Pantami based on religion and region.”
Under his ministry, Nigeria launched a national digital identity program and tightened SIM registration.
Yet, as he became the face of Nigeria’s digital future, his extremist past resurfaced. The revelation that a man once on a security watchlist was overseeing national communications sent shockwaves across the country and beyond.
A Nation Divided Over Forgiveness
When confronted, Pantami did not deny his past. Instead, he admitted to having “uttered immature and dangerous views” as a young man but claimed he had changed.
“I have long changed those opinions,” he said in a 2021 sermon at the Annur Mosque, Abuja. “I now love peace and hate terrorism.”
Supporters, including the Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs (NSCIA), called the outrage “a Western plot” to tarnish a devout Muslim. The then President, Buhari, also defended him, dismissing the public backlash as “cancel culture.”
But for many Christians — especially survivors of jihadist violence in Nigeria’s Middle Belt — Pantami’s apology rang hollow.
“If someone who once praised Osama bin Laden can now be a minister, what hope do we have?” asked David Onyilokwu Idah, Director, International Human Rights Commission, Abuja.
“A terrorist can be made a minister,” he said.
The Moral Cost of Compromise
To Pantami’s defenders, his story reflects personal growth and redemption. But to many Nigerians, it symbolizes a deeper moral collapse — a nation that normalizes extremism and rewards it with power.
Even within intelligence circles, sources told Premium Times that Pantami’s clearance for public office was “political, not professional.” It was an act of expediency over ethics.
International analysts warned that his appointment “sent the wrong message to both terrorists and victims of terrorism.”
A political thought leader noted that Pantami’s rise under the Buhari administration remains relevant because it exposed the ideological roots of Nigeria’s ruling elite. The same political party and machine that elevated Muhammadu Buhari — accused by critics of sympathy toward extremists — is the same force that, in 2023, presented the controversial Muslim-Muslim ticket to Nigerians.
A Nation Without Accountability
Pantami continues to insist he has been misunderstood and that his comments must be viewed in their “historical and youthful context.” Yet, the controversy persists because it speaks to something larger: Nigeria’s tolerance for fanaticism when cloaked in power.
His rise from the pulpit of Bauchi to the cabinet in Abuja is not just one man’s journey — it is the story of a state that rewards silence, tolerates hate, and buries memory under political convenience.
For victims of Boko Haram and Fulani militia attacks, Pantami’s redemption narrative feels cruelly premature. For Nigeria, it is a stain on the nation’s conscience — a reminder that moral blindness in leadership can be as dangerous as the terrorism it claims to fight.
Mike Odeh James and Olikita Ekani are Conflict Reporters.
