In a swift and scathing rebuttal, Senator Olajide Ipinsagba, representing Ondo North Senatorial District, has broken his silence over the viral resignation of a former ward liaison volunteer, calling the claims “a twisted betrayal of compassion” and accusing the man behind it of political blackmail disguised as grievance.

The controversy erupted after Mr. Olatunbosun Awe, a grassroots volunteer from Isowokpo II Ward, claimed he was quitting his position because he was being paid a “meagre N20,000 salary” by the Senator—a claim now debunked as fiction.

But Senator Ipinsagba isn’t just denying the allegation—he’s reframing it. In a powerfully worded statement from his Media Office, he revealed that Mr. Awe was never on any payroll, but rather a recipient of a voluntary relief stipend—a personal initiative by the Senator to support over 100 loyal constituents struggling under economic hardship.

“The N20,000 in question was not a salary. It was not a wage. It was a show of empathy,” the statement clarified. “To weaponise compassion is not just dishonest—it is dishonourable.”

The Senator, who chairs the Senate Committee on Bureau of Public Procurement, emphasized that the grassroots support system he initiated is a unique model of people-first politics—not a political appointment scheme. Sources close to his office confirm that the initiative has helped dozens of unemployed youths, widows, and vulnerable residents survive the tough economy.

But that kindness, he says, has now been twisted by political ambition.
“Awe has chosen to bite the hand that fed him,” the Senator stated, invoking a Yoruba proverb: “Eni tí a bá ṣe l’órè tó ní ké l’èrè, ó ti dá ara rẹ l’òrò.” (He who scorns a good deed has invited shame upon himself.)

Insiders say the backlash may be part of a coordinated smear campaign by political rivals eyeing the 2027 elections. The move, they claim, is aimed at discrediting the Senator’s growing popularity in Ondo North, where he’s built a reputation for quiet, consistent, and impactful service—from medical outreaches to bursary grants, rural empowerment, and public works advocacy.

Observers also note that the backlash conveniently comes at a time when Ipinsagba’s name has been mentioned as a rising voice in reformist circles within the National Assembly, especially for his push to overhaul procurement systems and public accountability.

On social media, reactions have been mixed, but many ordinary citizens are siding with the Senator.

“Since when did a compassionate gesture become exploitation?” asked a local youth leader on X (formerly Twitter). “If N20,000 was too small, why take it for months in silence?”

Others have praised Ipinsagba for not being dragged into a media brawl, instead issuing what one user called “a masterclass in dignified rebuttal.”
In the end, this controversy may reveal more about the state of Nigeria’s political culture—where kindness is sometimes punished and political favours are expected as entitlements.

“Senator Ipinsagba is a man of honour, not a man of noise,” his office concluded. “He remains focused, undeterred, and committed to serving the people of Ondo North—with integrity, compassion, and truth.”

If anything, this saga has revealed just how rare—and risky—politics with a conscience has become.