Behind the $200 million Stripe acquisition stood a CTO who changed the image of a tech executive. Ezra Olubi paired an unapologetic personal style with the skills that made Paystack a global success. However, by the end of 2025, his technical achievements were clouded by controversy. A public relations crisis stemming from old social media posts and internal accusations led to the sudden end of Olubi’s time at the company he helped build.
On December 6, 2025, David Hundeyin shared a post on X about Ezra’s exit. He didn’t just report on it; he also launched a strong online campaign. In several popular posts, he connected Olubi to the American music mogul Sean “Diddy” Combs. Hundeyin claimed that Olubi had a “God complex,” “sexual perversion,” and he suggested that Ezra is a drug addict.
Ezra Olubi spent thirty days in the shadows, letting the world assume he had retreated from the storm. After a month of public quiet, the former Paystack CTO shattered the narrative of his “retreat” on January 26, 2026. He didn’t issue a statement; he referred the matter to Templars (one of Nigeria’s most formidable legal engines), which served David Hundeyin with a ₦140 million demand for damages.
Hundeyin responded defiantly, using his “three-point defense”:
- He claims he is immune to Nigerian law because he lives in exile.
- He views the allegations as important for the public and his role as an investigative journalist.
- He describes his claims as personal beliefs based on confidential sources.
Amid the chatter on social media, there is a clear truth in the Nigerian court: the damage is already done. Under the doctrine of Libel Actionable Per Se, the law doesn’t require Ezra Olubi to prove a specific loss of income or a cancelled contract. Because the allegations were written and permanent, the law presumes his reputation has been harmed. The burden of proof doesn’t rest on the victim; it rests on the publisher.
If this reaches the Lagos State High Court, David Hundeyin’s defense will collide with the Malice Standard. In defamation law, malice is more than just spite; it is the “reckless disregard for the truth.” By publicly stating he was “willing to bet money” on Olubi’s personal habits, Hundeyin crossed the line from investigative reporting into speculative commentary. In a courtroom, a journalist’s credentials are not a license to guess; they are a mandate to verify.
Why the Timing Matters
Only weeks ago, the Falana vs. Meta ruling proved that the courts are no longer blind to digital damage. The Nigerian judiciary is beginning to recognize a modern truth: a viral tweet can incinerate a reputation with the speed and finality of a physical fire. Olubi’s ₦140 million demand is a calculated signal, an attempt to make the cost of “investigative speculation” prohibitively expensive.
Should this proceed to trial, both men risk everything. For Olubi, a trial means answering for his Paystack exit under the harsh light of a cross-examination. For Hundeyin, the stakes are higher. If the court rules against him, his “unlimited reach” becomes a massive legal liability.
