'For Senator Saraki, I cringed at the knowledge of people being rented to ask the police to leave him alone. That is reminiscent of the Ibori saga in London. His cousin, the sitting governor of Delta State, apparently mistook UK judges for Nigerian cash-and-carry undertakers of justice. So he rented a scanty crowd of corrupt Deltans and ferried them to London to protest Ibori's trial. I am sure he saw the difference between judgment and justice in that case. That scenario was exactly what played out in Saraki's case. The state governor – who was handpicked by the Senator himself and imposed on the state – forced each of the local governments in Kwara to hire a bus that conveyed the crowds to Lagos.'

Sometime in March, Bukola Saraki, the Senator representing Kwara Central Senatorial District was my guest on twitter. It wasn't under a pre-arranged environment where you have a pressman or blogger question public figures in an interview session; it was during one of my hot, I-don't-give-a-damn morning sessions. The night before, I had learnt that the National Assembly jerked up their allowances in this year's budget. It didn't make any sense to me that an assemblage of people whose individual salaries and allowances could pay the United States president's salary for two years would still contemplate increasing their allowances further. I questioned the reasoning behind that action. And in search of any semblance of a mind that should be sound- or near sound - in the Senate, I remembered Bukola Saraki.

Mr Saraki earned a new rating from me after he pioneered the fuel subsidy debate on the floor of the senate. He did a thorough job on the subject. Before then, the image I had of him was that of an over-pampered son of a desperate god-father. He struck me as one who was rigged in by his father to be the governor of a State. That image got fainted by his role in the subsidy fraud discovery. It was this new improved image of him that made me think of him as a mind that could be sound in the Senate. Plus, I had observed that he was on Twitter, sounding populist almost always. I wasn't following him, but I used to - and still do - see people retweet him. I had expected him to voice a stand different from his colleagues whose only claim to being in the Senate is the loads of un-earned, nation-bleeding money available to them for spending.

Angrily, I questioned why people followed Saraki on Twitter. It must be because they seek a relationship that could lead to money. A few commentators felt I went a bit overboard, others thought I was right. The senator took me up on that, and a debate ensued between us that attracted thousands of people. In the course of our debate, he reeled out his achievements as Kwara governor: the roads he built, hospitals he renovated, the strides he made in agriculture and others. As a politician whose ambition is not hidden, he made efforts to ensure he corrected the impressions I had of him before then. It's personal to me whether he achieved that goal or not.

But even if that encounter left me with any positive impression, Saraki's recent drama with the Nigerian police changed all of that.

The police had invited him for questioning over his role in N21b Intercontinental Bank loan fraud and the senator told the world that he had a permanent immunity stopping anybody from questioning him. He lied, actually. He didn't have that, because the next day he went to seek same which he claimed he already had from a Federal High Court judge; filing an exparte motion to prevent the police from asking him questions on how he benefitted from the N21billion loan fraud.

I still consider it a miracle that he couldn't get that from our courts. In a one-off act of rare patriotism, the presiding judge declined the senator the injunction, and that opened up the next stage in the nauseating drama. Saraki went into hiding; and the police declared him wanted. When he capitulated and promised to show up at the Police Special Anti-Fraud Unit in Lagos, he sent his forerunners - a variety of hirelings ferried from Kwara - to protest in support of that which is totally condemnable by all men of goodwill. He then sneaked into the Abuja Unit of the force, and returned back to twitter and boasted how he went to chat with the police.

At this point, I am certain that Mr Saraki's supporters will be quick to condemn me for declaring their principal guilty even when a court of competent jurisdiction is yet to do so. Each time supporters of the massive looting of Nigeria want to box me into a corner, they advance that line of argument. They want me to say no evil about any accused former ruler until the courts, Nigerian courts, declare such a person guilty. The only problem I have with that wish is my knowledge that there is no court in Nigeria. Yes, there are buildings that go by that nomenclature, but I also know that it is the bench that makes the court, not buildings. And as even the unborn child knows, it is doubtful if we have up to five members of the Nigerian bench who - by virtue of character - are deserving of being addressed by the title, "judge". We have no courts here, and that's why some of us do not rely on what the courts will say.

But even at that, I haven't declared the Senator guilty.

For Senator Saraki, I cringed at the knowledge of people being rented to ask the police to leave him alone. That is reminiscent of the Ibori saga in London. His cousin, the sitting governor of Delta State, apparently mistook UK judges for Nigerian cash-and-carry undertakers of justice. So he rented a scanty crowd of corrupt Deltans and ferried them to London to protest Ibori's trial. I am sure he saw the difference between judgment and justice in that case. That scenario was exactly what played out in Saraki's case. The state governor - who was handpicked by the Senator himself and imposed on the state - forced each of the local governments in Kwara to hire a bus that conveyed the crowds to Lagos.

I am not surprised at the turn of events for Mr Bukola Saraki. It takes more than brilliance to be addressed as "powerful" amongst the tribe of those who rule Nigeria. In this clime, being "powerful" includes - but not limited to - being able to commit and not get caught, being able to command the loyalty of those in bigger offices than you either because of the amount of unearned money at your disposal or the number of people you can buy within minutes, and being able to silence those who can bring justice to you. Saraki was severally described by the media as "powerful".

But I had expected him to live the new life he preaches on twitter, and that should involve answering to demands for accountability both as a former governor and a "billionaire" without playing the Ibori type of hide and seek or seeking the Peter Odili brand of court injunction. I also wasn't expecting him to descend to such lows: coordinating or supporting the renting of a crowd to declare him innocent when investigation was still ongoing.

As one who was once "powerful" and still is, I expect that my Senator friend should understand how the game of impunity is played here. Does he need my help with a few suggestions? He should place a call to the Attorney General who'll create a new court for him and give him the powers to choose a judge from Nigeria's plethora of morally bankrupt judges who'll preside, choose both the prosecution and defence counsels and then go home to await his acquittal and discharge.

That's the way the game of power is played in Nigeria, and Bukola Saraki shouldn't be assumed to be new in this power game.