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The
Performing Musicians Employers’ Association of Nigeria (PMAN) has been trapped
in a tragic loop. Every President who refuses to turn the union into a personal
cash dispenser eventually becomes a target. Suspension follows suspension.
Court case follows court case. And now, a leaked voicenote has torn the veil
off what many musicians have long suspected—that PMAN’s leadership crises are
less about governance failures and more about who controls the money, the land,
and the assets.
This is not new. It did not start
with Pretty Okafor.
From the days of Asha, through
Ruggedman, to Felix Duke, the story has remained depressingly consistent. Each
administration entered office with promises of reform and institutional order.
Each quickly ran into resistance—not from ordinary musicians—but from
entrenched interests within PMAN who saw the union less as a professional body
and more as a revolving ATM.
Whenever a President refused to
“settle” executives, share union funds, or dispose of PMAN assets for private
benefit, the script was activated: allegations, emergency NEC meetings,
suspensions, counter-suspensions, and media chaos. Governance language was
deployed, but the real grievance was always whispered in corridors and private
calls: “Why is he not sharing?”
What makes the current episode
different is the leaked audio tape now in the public domain. Unlike previous
eras of denials and counter-claims, Nigerians can now hear, in raw and
unfiltered form, what internal PMAN politics often sounds like behind closed
doors—executives allegedly plotting the removal of a sitting President, not
because he stole money, but because he refused to release or share it.
That tape does not sound like a
debate about transparency, accountability, or constitutional reform. It sounds
like frustration—anger even—over blocked access to union resources. It echoes
the same complaints that have followed every PMAN President who dared to say
no.
At the centre of the storm is
Pretty Okafor, a President who, by all available records, has become deeply
unpopular with a certain faction for one reason: he has resisted pressure to
sell PMAN land, distribute proceeds, or convert union assets into private gain.
The anger is not subtle. Members openly complain that land was not shared. That
money was not released. That “something” did not drop.
The Achievements They Refuse to
Mention
What is rarely acknowledged by
Pretty Okafor’s critics—perhaps because it undermines their narrative—is that
despite relentless persecution, litigation, and internal sabotage, his
administration has recorded some of the most consequential achievements in
PMAN’s recent history.
Since assuming office, Pretty
Okafor has:
I.
Recovered and secured PMAN assets, including
land and properties that had been abandoned, encroached upon, or informally
appropriated by individuals acting without mandate.
II.
Resisted the illegal sale and monetisation of
union land, preserving PMAN’s long-term institutional value rather than
liquidating it for short-term personal gain.
III.
Instituted stronger internal controls around
PMAN finances, ending the era where union funds were treated as discretionary
allowances for executives.
IV.
Re-engaged law-enforcement and regulatory
authorities to investigate historic financial irregularities, a move that has
unsettled those who benefited from PMAN’s former lack of accountability.
V.
Defended PMAN’s corporate and legal identity in
court, ensuring that the union remains recognised by law and protected from
hostile takeovers disguised as internal democracy.
VI.
Stabilised PMAN’s national structure at a time
when parallel executives and factional claims threatened to erase the union’s
credibility entirely.
VII.
Preserved PMAN’s assets for future generations
of musicians, insisting that land and properties belong to the institution, not
to individuals, cliques, or administrations.
None of these achievements come
with cash handouts. None can be “shared” at meetings. And perhaps that is
precisely why they are ignored.
When Prudence Is Rebranded as
Tyranny
In most unions, these actions
would be celebrated as responsible stewardship. In PMAN, they have been
rebranded as arrogance, stubbornness, or dictatorship. The irony is painful.
PMAN’s assets—lands, properties,
projects—were acquired to serve generations of musicians, not to be chopped
into parcels for political appeasement. Yet time and again, attempts to protect
these assets have been framed as betrayal.
This culture has cost PMAN
dearly. Endless litigation has weakened the institution. Public confidence has
eroded. Young musicians see PMAN not as a shield but as a battleground. And
while leaders fight over who controls the vault, the everyday welfare of
musicians remains an afterthought.
The leaked tape forces an
uncomfortable national question: when did refusing to share union money become
grounds for removal?
It also challenges PMAN members
to confront a hard truth. An organisation cannot mature if every reform-minded
leader is sacrificed on the altar of “settlement.” Institutions grow when rules
are respected, assets are protected, and leadership is judged by
stewardship—not generosity to insiders.
None of this is to suggest that
any PMAN President should be above scrutiny. Power must always be checked. But
scrutiny must be rooted in evidence of wrongdoing, not in resentment over
denied access to money.
What we are witnessing today—the
so-called suspensions, the emergency meetings, the desperate press
statements- looks less like a governance correction and more like the latest
chapter in PMAN’s long tradition of punishing restraint.
History will likely be unkind to
this pattern. Long after the noise fades, the record will show who tried to
protect the union and who tried to carve it up.
If PMAN is ever to escape its
cycle of coups and counter-coups, musicians must decide what kind of
association they want: one that sells its future in parcels, or one that
finally learns that leadership is not about sharing money, but about preserving
it.
The leaked tape did not create
PMAN’s crisis. It merely confirmed what many already knew.
And now that the truth is
audible, pretending not to hear it may be the greatest betrayal of all.
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