In the latest salvo in the war between the Trump administration and California, Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy jr. said Tuesday that his agency withheld $867.5 million in Medicaid payments to the state over concerns about fraud.
Kennedy also said his agency defered $199 million in Medicaid payments to Minnesota over similar concerns.
“If Gov. Gavin Newsom or Gov. Tim Walz wants this funding released, all they have to do is provide basic documentation showing that these services are legitimate and not fraudulent,” Kennedy said at a news conference.
Just under half of the funds withheld from California were in connection with in-home health services.
Dr. Mehmet Oz, the administrator for the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, said California’s spending on in-home health services went up by more than double the national average over the last two fiscal years.
“That doesn’t make sense,” he said.
About a quarter of the funds withheld involved care provided to individuals with “unsatisfactory immigration status,” whose eligibility to be in the country and receive these services is in question, which Oz characterized as an “ongoing massive problem for California.”
The announcement by Kennedy and Oz on Tuesday comes two months after Vice President JD Vance announced that the administration would be deferring $1.3 billion in Medicaid payments over fraud concerns, largely connected to hospice services and in-home healthcare.
Newsom’s office, in a social media post, called the announcement a “recycled political stunt.”
“California isn’t being targeted because Trump has evidence of fraud,” the post said. “We are being targeted for political reasons — and because Dr. Oz doesn’t understand that we are *SAVING* taxpayers money by keeping seniors and people with disabilities out of far more expensive nursing homes!”
Newsom’s office also said that the state stands “ready to collaborate” with the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services “in good faith efforts to combat fraud.”
The office of California Atty. Gen. Rob Bonta said it is reviewing the deferral of payments and allegations of fraud.
“We have not hesitated to challenge unlawful actions by the Trump administration, and we will continue to act whenever Californians’ rights or access to critical services are threatened,” Bonta’s office said.
Despite Newsom’s claims that the accusations are political, the California state auditor has repeatedly flagged Medi-Cal eligibility discrepancies that have exposed the state to billions of dollars in questionable payments.
California Department of Healthcare Services spokesperson Anthony Cava noted, however, that a 2020 state audit of in-home care found “no program integrity concerns” and encouraged expansion of the program to reduce spending on institutional care.
Cava also pointed out that the federal government had previously approved California’s approach to in-home care.
Newsom and Oz have clashed before.
Newsom filed a civil rights complaint in January against Oz, after Oz posted a video to social media from Van Nuys in which he accused the “Russian Armenian mafia” of being a leading driver of $3.5 billion in fraud in hospice and home-care services.
Newsom said that Oz’s claims were “baseless and racist.”
The announcement by Kennedy and Oz on Tuesday is the latest effort by the Trump administration to crack down on suspected Medicaid fraud in numerous states across the country.
On a hot Tuesday afternoon in Yola, Adamawa State, in northeastern Nigeria, 32-year-old Fidelis Mbai walked to a point-of-sale (POS) stand to withdraw ₦35,000. The POS operator, Abu Sani, collected his Automated Teller Machine (ATM) card and inserted it into a POS terminal. Fidelis entered his Personal Identification Number (PIN). Within seconds, he received a debit alert. The money had left Fidelis’ account, but Abu’s terminal showed that the transaction had not been completed successfully.
The two men stared at their screens. One had seen ₦35,000 withdrawn from his account; the other had received nothing. For nearly 30 minutes, they kept refreshing their mobile bank apps. “I was angry because the money had left my account immediately,” Fidelis said. “As far as I was concerned, the transaction was successful.”
Abu understood the frustration, but he had a problem of his own. “The customer was debited, but I didn’t receive the money,” he said. “If I gave him cash and the transaction eventually failed completely, the loss would be mine.”
Eventually, Fidelis left without cash. His money would later be reversed. But for several hours, ₦35,000 simply disappeared into Nigeria’s digital payment infrastructure.
This experience has become familiar to many Nigerian residents. As digital payments increasingly replace cash, it is ordinary citizens, not institutions, who bear the cost of failed transactions. The consequences often extend beyond the value of the failed transaction itself. Delayed payments can prevent traders from restocking goods, force customers to borrow money while waiting for reversals, disrupt access to healthcare, transport, or other essential services, and erode trust in digital financial systems. For small businesses and low-income households that depend on immediate access to funds, even a short delay can translate into lost income, missed opportunities, and significant financial stress.
Nigeria’s digital payment revolution
Nigeria’s digital payment ecosystem has expanded rapidly over the past decade. According to data from the Nigeria Inter-Bank Settlement System (NIBSS) – which operates the core infrastructure that processes and settles electronic payments and fund transfers between banks, discount houses, and card companies in Nigeria, and is jointly owned by the Central Bank of Nigeria and all licensed banks – the value of instant digital payments reached ₦1.07 quadrillion in 2024, up from ₦600.36 trillion in 2023. The data also showed that Nigerians conducted 1.38 billion POS transactions worth ₦18.32 trillion during the same period.
These numbers reflect one of the most successful examples of digital public infrastructure (DPI) in Africa. At its core, DPI refers to the digital rails that allow citizens to identify themselves, make payments, and access services. In Nigeria, these rails include bank transfer systems, mobile money platforms, POS networks, identity systems such as BVN and NIN, and shared payment infrastructure.
Photo: Andrew Eseibo/Rest of World.
Together, these systems enable millions of transactions every day. For most users, the process appears simple: send money, receive money, and move on. But when something goes wrong, the burden often shifts away from the infrastructure and onto the people who rely on it.
While there is no official national estimate of the total amount Nigerians lose annually to failed digital payment transactions, the scale is substantial. During the 2023 cashless transition, industry reports indicated that as many as 40 per cent of failed e-payment complaints remained unresolved for extended periods, with affected transactions running into millions of naira.
Given that Nigerians processed over ₦1.07 quadrillion in instant payments in 2024 alone, experts say that even a failure rate of less than one per cent could leave billions of naira temporarily trapped in failed, delayed, or disputed transactions each year.
The last mile bankers of Nigeria
Every morning, Abu begins work with a few simple calculations. How much cash does he have? How much electronic value is in his account? And how much of that money is trapped in pending transactions?
“Almost every week, we experience failed transactions,” he said. “Sometimes two or three times. During network problems, it can happen many times in one day.”
Officially, Abu’s role is to provide financial services. Unofficially, he has become something else: a lender, a mediator, and a shock absorber. He is one of an estimated 1,600 POS operators per square kilometre in Nigeria, according to the International Monetary Fund (IMF). As banks have reduced their physical footprint in some communities, these agents have become the last-mile providers of financial services, connecting millions of Nigerian residents to the formal financial system.
One afternoon, a regular customer named Musa Ibrahim arrived to withdraw ₦50,000. The debit alert arrived immediately, but Abu’s account was not credited. Musa needed the money urgently for a hospital bill, and Abu had to choose between trusting the system and trusting the customer. “I knew him very well,” Abu said. “So I gave him the money from my own cash.”
The confirmation took two days to arrive. For 48 hours, Abu had effectively given Musa an interest-free loan. Nobody paid him for the risk. Nobody compensated him for the anxiety. Yet this informal lending happens every day across Nigeria. Thousands of POS operators use their own money to bridge gaps created by delayed transactions.
At Jimeta Modern Market in Yola, 38-year-old Aisha Mohammed sells food items. More than half of her customers now pay by bank transfer. Like many traders, she has adapted to Nigeria’s cash-light economy, but that adaptation comes at a cost. Several months ago, a customer purchased a bag of rice worth ₦80,000. He presented a transfer receipt. The money did not arrive.
File: A grocery store attendant operating a POS terminal. Photo: Opay
“The customer looked genuine,” Aisha said. “He showed me everything on his phone.”
She released the goods. The payment did not arrive until the following day. That night, she barely slept. “You start asking yourself whether you have been scammed,” she said.
Delayed transactions create a dilemma for traders like Aisha. If they reject digital payments, they risk losing customers; if they accept them, they risk losing money. Many solve the problem through selective trust. “If I know the customer, I may release the goods,” she explained. “If I don’t know them, I wait until I see the money myself.”
This has created a parallel trust economy operating beneath Nigeria’s digital economy. In theory, transactions are guaranteed by technology; in practice, they are often guaranteed by relationships.
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Dr Ibrahim Sule, a financial inclusion expert at the Adamawa State Ministry of Finance described it as a hidden feature of Nigeria’s digital economy. “It shows that people are finding ways to compensate for weaknesses in the system. Personal trust often fills the gaps where technology falls short,” he said.
Borrowing money while waiting
For Ibrahim Yusuf, a resident of Damilu, a community in Jimeta, the consequences were far more serious. In October 2025, he transferred ₦43,000 to a shop owner as payment for foodstuffs he had purchased. The money left his account instantly, but the shop owner never received it.
One day passed, then two, three, four, five, and six. During that period, Ibrahim had no extra money with him. “The money was meant for foodstuffs, but I couldn’t leave the market with what I bought because the shop owner didn’t receive an alert,” Ibrahim said.
By the third day, Ibrahim borrowed ₦20,000 from a friend. The irony was difficult to ignore. His own money existed somewhere inside the banking system, yet he needed someone else’s money to survive. “It wasn’t even the financial loss that hurt the most,” he said. “It was the uncertainty. Nobody could tell me exactly where the money was.”
His experience illustrates a hidden cost rarely captured in transaction statistics. When payments fail, people do not simply lose access to money. They lose opportunities, business deals collapse, and relationships become strained.
The financial system eventually restores the funds. But it rarely restores the time, trust, or opportunities lost along the way.
How the money moves
While a bank transfer feels like a simple process for customers, financial experts say that transactions often travel through multiple systems. According to Hakeem Abdulkareem, a tech expert at NIBSS, “When you initiate a transfer on your bank app or through your bank, your bank first authenticates the transaction and verifies the beneficiary’s account details. The payment instruction is then routed through the NIBSS Instant Payment (NIP) platform to the receiving bank, which validates the request before crediting the beneficiary’s account. For the transfer to succeed, each of these systems – the sending institution, the NIP switch, and the receiving institution – must exchange information correctly and in real time,” he explained. “Each stage must communicate properly for the transaction to be completed.”
Any disruption along that chain can create problems. Not every failed transfer originates from NIBSS. Payment experts note that delays can occur at the sending bank, the receiving bank, a fintech platform, telecommunications networks, or the central payment switch. One way to determine where a transaction stalled is through the unique ‘Session ID’ generated for every transfer, which allows institutions to trace the payment through the system.
“Delays often occur when there are network issues, system outages, or communication problems between institutions involved in the transaction,” Hakeem added, noting that NIBSS continues to work with banks and fintech companies to improve transaction monitoring, automate reconciliation processes, and strengthen the resilience of the NIBSS Instant Payment (NIP) platform as transaction volumes continue to grow.
In the first quarter of 2025, electronic payment transactions reached ₦284.99 trillion, a 17.7 percent increase from ₦234.49 trillion recorded during the same period in 2024. POS transactions alone rose to ₦10.45 trillion during the same period, more than double the ₦3.62 trillion recorded in the first quarter of 2024.
While these figures highlight growth, Hakeem noted that “as transaction volumes increase, maintaining system efficiency becomes even more important.”
The institutions behind Nigeria’s digital payment system agree on one point: public confidence depends on reliability. As transaction volumes continue to grow, banks, fintech companies, and regulators say they are investing in infrastructure, monitoring systems, and consumer protection to reduce delays and strengthen trust.
Adi Dansanda, Customer Protection Officer at the Central Bank of Nigeria, Yola branch, told HumAngle that “Consumer confidence is critical to the success of Nigeria’s digital payment ecosystem. We continue to work with financial institutions and payment service providers to strengthen compliance, improve service quality, and ensure that customer complaints are resolved within established timelines.”
CBN Yola Branch Office. Photo: Obidah Habila Albert/HumAngle.
Despite these commitments, the experiences of everyday Nigerian residents suggest that the gap between policy and practice remains significant. For them, confidence is built every time a transfer arrives on time, every time a complaint is resolved quickly, and every time money moves when it is needed most.
Lessons from elsewhere
Building a reliable real-time payment system is not unique to Nigeria. Countries with some of the world’s most advanced digital payment platforms have also experienced outages and technical failures as transaction volumes increased.
In India, the Unified Payments Interface (UPI), which processes more than 18 billion transactions each month, experienced several nationwide outages in 2025. An investigation by the National Payments Corporation of India (NPCI) traced one of the largest disruptions to excessive transaction-status requests from participating banks that overwhelmed the system. In response, the regulator tightened technical protocols, limited repeated status checks, and strengthened monitoring to reduce the risk of similar failures.
Brazil’s Pix platform has also experienced periodic service disruptions linked to participating financial institutions and network issues. Rather than eliminating failures entirely, authorities have continued to improve interoperability, operational resilience, and incident response as usage has expanded.
Nigeria has already built one of Africa’s largest real-time payment systems through the NIBSS Instant Payment platform. Experts who spoke to HumAngle say the lesson from other countries is not that payment systems can avoid failures altogether, but that maintaining public trust depends on continuously strengthening infrastructure, improving coordination among participants, and responding quickly and transparently to disruptions.
This report is produced under the DPI Africa Journalism Fellowship Programme of the Media Foundation for West Africa and Co-Develop.
After Gov. Gavin Newsom announced this week that the U.S. Department of Justice may be investigating his wife, Jennifer Siebel Newsom, media and pundits pounced on millions in charity payments he has solicited for nonprofits, including ones she is involved in.
Those donations, known as “behested payments,” aren’t illegal in California, but, long before Newsom started asking for them, many have found them unsavory — with good cause. A behest, after all, is by definition a command or at least a strong suggestion.
Anytime a politician is commanding money, regardless of the purpose, there is at least the appearance that the giver — Meta, Google, Blue Shield for example — may expect something in return.
It may seem absurd that the Trump administration could be investigating Newsom for questionable ethics, when Trump has hawked everything from crypto-coins to sneakers from the Oval Office. But the problem Newsom now faces is that behested payments are actually skeevy, and legal or not, they make an excellent target for pummeling the presidential contender. Especially because some of the charities are tied to his wife.
“The Newsom case has blown it wide open, but this has been an issue for years,” Sean McMorris told me. He’s the transparency, ethics and accountability program manager at Common Cause, a nonpartisan organization that has been raising alarms over behested payments for more than a decade.
McMorris said that while these payments don’t violate any laws, they are “ripe for abuse” because companies and people likely aren’t ponying up cash just to be good citizens. If you or I called up PG&E and asked them to give a few million to our favorite cause, I doubt we’d have much luck, even if it involved kittens, puppies or small children in need.
The entire system, McMorris points out, “doesn’t really work unless you’re shaking down people who you know need things from you as a politician.”
Jerry Brown used behested payments to get millions for charter schools he supported. Lesser luminaries such as mayors (including Antonio Villaraigosa, Eric Garcetti and Karen Bass, just to name the last three in L.A.) have used them for all kinds of stuff from jobs programs to fixing up official residences.
And it’s far from a Democratic thing. Arnold Schwarzenegger, a Republican, used them to pay for travel and after-school programs. Republican James Gallagher, who recently won a congressional seat, used them to fund computers for schools while he was in the state Legislature. Senate Minority Leader Brian Jones has raised millions, including helping to get $800,000 in donations to fund a replica of a historic ship for the maritime museum in his San Diego district.
Trump himself could be considered king of behested payments, with his corporate-paid ballroom and birthday bash.
Literally, folks, find me a politician with an itty-bitty bit of clout, and I’ll show you a trail of behested payments stretching through their pet projects. For that reason alone, it’s unlikely that California legislators will take any action to curb them, especially now when doing so would appear as a criticism to Newsom and Democrats in general.
And, to be fair, behested payments can do a lot of good. Newsom supercharged behested payments during the pandemic, raising hundreds of millions for programs to get Californians through that social disaster.
For that reason and others, not all experts find them terribly troubling. Jessica Levinson, a Loyola Law School professor with an expertise in election and governance issues, points out that money in politics is nothing new and at least behested payments are (mostly) required to be acknowledged. Anything over $5,000 and the politician has to report it to the California Fair Political Practices Commission, which keeps a public database.
That makes behested payments far more transparent than, say, dark money donations to a mysterious political action committee. And at least the money is going to a good cause, be it historical ships or computers for kids.
“I actually don’t think that they’re the evil mechanism that other people do,” Levinson said. “I mean, my feeling is like, let’s live in reality, right? People are going to want to give as much money to or close to powerful people as possible, and I think that we have a choice between money going to independent expenditure groups or political committees or going to nonprofits.”
So behested payments in and of themselves might not be much of a headache for Newsom. But some of the payments Newsom solicited went to nonprofits Siebel Newsom is involved with, and which have paid her a salary. That proximity is uncomfortable for many of us. There is no distinction for a behest given to a charity with direct ties to the politician, but maybe there should be.
None of that is to say the Newsoms are off the hook in a federal investigation. Newsom’s office said that along with the FBI, agents from the IRS have been knocking on doors and asking questions. All of us — probably the Newsoms included — will just have to wait to see if the fine-tooth combs of the feds pick up any dirt.
If there is any lesson to be learned at this point, it’s about ambition and hubris. Behested payments are easy money for California politicians and business as usual — everyone does it. But maybe they shouldn’t. It’s not black or white.
Newsom is learning quickly what it means to have a powerful enemy like Trump, one who has shown he will use the full power of the American government for his own purposes. One who can tip the scales and slide white to gray and gray to felony.
Federal investigators do not like to come up empty-handed, and the wink-wink nature of behested payments creates just that kind of ambiguity that provides reasonable cause for investigation — a self-inflicted vulnerability that surely has every California politician nervous.
Airlines and shipping companies must send payment receipts to PDVSA to access fuel. (Archive)
Caracas, June 3, 2026 (venezuelanalysis.com) – The Venezuelan government headed by Acting President Delcy Rodríguez has instructed airlines and shipping companies to direct fuel payments to a US Treasury account.
Spanish newspaper El Diario published a May 28 letter from state oil company PDVSA addressed to “aviation and maritime customers” that laid out the “banking coordinates” for foreign currency payments concerning JET A1, MGO, and IFO 380 purchases.
JET A1 is a kerosene-based fuel widely used by commercial airplanes, while Maritime Gas Oil (MGO) and Intermediate Fuel Oil (IFO) 380 are standard for ship engines.
“We urge our customers to take the necessary precautions and forward the payment receipt to PDVSA sales representatives so that the payment is cleared and fuel supply is assured,” the letter read.
An attached US Treasury information sheet contains details for Fedwire payments to a “Venezuela custody account” and requires information about “source of funds, e.g., oil, gold, minerals, etc.”
The leaked letter is the first publicly available document from a Venezuelan state institution directing foreign currency payments to an account run by the US Treasury Department as opposed to the country’s Central Bank (BCV) or some alternative state-run mechanism.
Since the January 3 military strikes and kidnapping of Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, the Trump administration has seized control of the country’s export revenues. The White House has likewise extracted concessions in the form of pro-business reforms, preferential access for Western corporations to natural resources, and external audits of the Venezuelan Central Bank.
US Treasury general licenses allowing select Western corporations to engage in oil and gas activities mandate that all Venezuela-owed payments for royalties, taxes, and dividends be deposited in US Treasury accounts. Additional sanctions waivers imposed similar constraints on mining sector services and exports.
Neither US nor Venezuelan authorities have disclosed information about the funds, the timings of their disbursements back to Caracas, and the percentage kept by the Trump administration. The US president stated in a May interview that Washington has “made a fortune” from Venezuelan oil sales.
Both Washington and Caracas have acknowledged the use of Treasury-held Venezuelan revenues for the purchase of medicines and medical equipment from US manufacturers. In January, Secretary of State Marco Rubio said in a Senate hearing in January that Venezuela would need to submit a “budget request” to access its own funds.
According to reports, Washington is mandating that the Venezuelan Central Bank distribute the returned foreign currency to private sector importers via exchange table auctions run by public and private banks. The BCV has reportedly allocated more than US $5 billion thus far in 2026.
The Rodríguez acting government’s diplomatic rapprochement with the Trump White House, coupled with reforms to attract Western investment, has led to a growing number of international airlines reestablishing flights to the Caribbean nation. American Airlines currently runs two daily direct Caracas-Miami flights, while United Airlines will launch a Caracas-Houston connection in August. Jetblue, for its part, is set to initiate its first-ever Venezuela route later in the year.
Venezuelan authorities have likewise recorded increased shipping activity at the country’s ports.
