I am Alhaji Malami Abdulkadir, a name once whispered in the corridors of power, now echoed in the chambers of regret.
I served Adamu Aliero—faithfully, loyally—but he cast me out like a garment worn thin.
I sought refuge with Nasamu Dakingari—another chapter, another heartbreak—he too turned his back on me.
Then came Atiku Bagudu—I thought him my redeemer, but again, I was shown the door.
Bruised by rejection and betrayal, I staggered to the doorstep of a man I once barely knew—Abubakar Malami.
I told him my tale—not as a politician, but as a broken man searching for purpose.
And he, with a heart far bigger than politics, took me in.
He gave me shelter when the storms of life threatened to drown me,
He gave me an office when others gave me silence.
AMG came about which we used as a vehicle of development through which we identified suitable locations for drilling boreholes to deserving communities.
Together, we gave them life, we gave them identity and polish them for political relevance.
The bubakar Malami Group (AMG)—a banner of hope,
He made me its anchor and associate patron of khadimiyyah and through that title I shook the hands of governors, ministers, and men of influence enjoying unprecedented benefits and was rehabilitated.
Even when I faltered—yes, I was not always transparent—he bore me with patience.
He stood by me when my truth was murky and my loyalty was gray.
But the winds of purpose shifted. The political mission we once envisioned was paused—not from weakness, but from a higher calling. Abubakar Malami, ever resilient and duty-bound, answered the nation’s call with renewed strength and unwavering resolve. He turned his focus to greater service, where his brilliance, loyalty, and legal acumen were needed most—at the heart of the Federal Government. And I, ever the ambitious one, followed his family, friends, and associates, leveraging the goodwill he built to secure support for my in-law.
With his hand behind me, my in-law rose to power and now sits as governor.
Still, I called Malami my oga, my benefactor, my guide.
But then, a shadow grew in my heart.
I saw a whisper of ambition in Malami’s eyes and feared he might rise again.
And so I did the unthinkable.
To protect my in-law, who still shares my blood through my daughter,
I chose treachery over truth,
And stabbed the very hand that once fed my empty palms.
I raised my voice—not for the state, not for justice, not for truth—
But for my daughter,
For my in-law,
For my own fragile pride.
I am Malami Abdulkadir.
Not a statesman.
Not a patriot.
Just a father, who chose blood over brotherhood,
Family over fairness,
And ambition over allegiance.
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Opinion