Naijavault

Temi didn’t wait for the fallout. She cloned NaijaVault onto seventeen servers across seven countries, set a dead-man’s switch to release everything if she didn’t log in every 48 hours, and bought a one-way ticket to Accra under a fake name.

Temi didn’t sleep that night. She traced the number to a government IP address — the same one her uncle had flagged in his final file. She had a choice: scrub the vault and disappear, or release the crown jewel — a folder Dele had labeled — a spreadsheet linking a current governor to over thirty unsolved assassinations. naijavault

It was a photograph of a man in a military uniform, standing next to her uncle Dele — alive — at a café in Nairobi. The caption read: “Tell Temi: the vault was just the beginning.” Temi didn’t wait for the fallout

And somewhere out there, her uncle was smiling. NaijaVault remained online. No one ever found the Keeper. But every week, new files appeared. And every week, someone’s truth was finally heard. She traced the number to a government IP