In a nation where tales of police corruption often dominate headlines, Superintendent Sentome Obi has rewritten the script. The Bayelsa State police officer, recently honored by Governor Douye Diri for rejecting a staggering $17,000 bribe, has become an overnight symbol of hope in Nigeria’s fight against corruption. His story—a potent cocktail of moral courage, institutional pride, and unexpected rewards—offers a masterclass in why integrity still matters in contemporary Nigeria.
It began with intelligence too credible to ignore—a tip about suspects allegedly involved in organ harvesting and ritual killings. Acting swiftly, Obi and his team made the arrests, recovering chilling evidence that confirmed their worst suspicions. Then came the test: an audacious $17,000 offer from the suspects, desperate to bury their crimes in silence. For many, this would have been life-changing money. For Obi, it was simply unacceptable.
“Our salaries come from taxpayers,” he reflects, his voice steady with conviction. “How could I face them if I betrayed that trust?” The suspects, paraded last December and subsequently charged to court, learned the hard way that some officers still wear their badges with honor.
Obi’s decision sent shockwaves through his personal and professional circles. Family reactions were mixed—some lamented the “missed opportunity,” while others swelled with pride. But destiny had rewards in store far greater than dirty money: a three-bedroom bungalow and a brand-new car from Governor Diri, followed by the prestigious title of Nigeria’s Best Police Officer of 2024, awarded by the Inspector General of Police with the Senate President representing the President at the ceremony.
“Integrity pays,” Obi grins, his awards gleaming under the lights. “People think the police force is rotten, but we have good officers too. This is proof.”
His advice to fellow officers cuts through the cynicism like a knife: “Remember who you are. The money isn’t worth your name, your family’s pride, or this uniform.” For Nigerians jaded by tales of police misconduct, Obi’s story is a reminder that change is possible—one honest cop at a time.
And if another $17,000 lands on his desk? “I’ll reject it again,” he laughs. “Who knows? Maybe a mansion is next.”
In a country hungry for heroes, Superintendent Sentome Obi just served notice: integrity isn’t dead. It’s just been undercover.




