By Abdul-Hakim Shabazz
Let me introduce you to David Waters—a man whose political career reads like a cautionary tale in humility and perseverance, if only he’d stop long enough to learn from it.
Three times, he ran for public office.
Three times, he lost.
In 2022, he challenged incumbent Mike Speedy in the Republican primary for Indiana House District 90. Spoiler alert: Speedy won easily, and Waters barely registered with voters.
Then, in May 2023, Waters challenged incumbent Brian Mowery in the Republican primary for Indianapolis City–County Council District 25 and lost 62% to 38%. And in May 2024, he tried again for the same state legislative seat—this time in an open GOP primary for House District 90. The result? Andrew Ireland led the pack with 38%, followed by two other candidates—and Waters came in dead last with a grand total of 5.8%.
That’s a combined 0–3 on the ballot. Normally it’s three strikes and your out.
But David didn’t stop there. No, instead of regrouping or rethinking his approach, he decided to reinvent himself as a political watchdog—except with all bark and no credibility. At Friday’s Marion County Election Board hearing, 13 campaign finance complaints were dismissed. Eleven of them were filed by Mr. Waters. None had merit. I take that back—95% of them were meritless. The rest were jurisdictionally barred. But not a single one resulted in enforcement.
That brings his record to 0–14.
But wait—he’s not done. Because in addition to losing elections and watching the Election Board dismantle his arguments like a wet napkin in a hurricane, he decided to fire off one more shot: a Verified Petition for Writ of Mandamus accusing me of campaign finance violations that had already been reviewed, addressed, and cleared months ago.
To borrow a line from every action movie villain seconds before things explode: he just made a very big mistake.
That filing wasn’t oversight—it was defamation per se. When you accuse someone of criminal behavior in a court document, knowing full well that claim is false and has already been dismissed by the proper authorities, you don’t get to hide behind “legitimate criticism.” You get to face a lawsuit. Under oath. With consequences.
As a long-suffering Chicago White Sox fan, I can appreciate an 0–14 win-loss record.
But this ain’t baseball.
In the courtroom, a losing streak doesn’t end with a lucky bullpen call—it ends with damages, legal fees, and a judge asking, “What were you thinking?”
And here’s the thing: I gave him off-ramps. Multiple emails. Offers to settle. Opportunities to walk away quietly with some dignity intact. He ignored them all. He wanted the spotlight. Now he’s got it.
Friday’s Election Board hearing wasn’t an oversight forum—it was a civic exorcism. Thirteen complaints entered, thirteen were dismissed. Eleven had Waters’ fingerprints all over them. What he framed as whistleblowing was really just bad-faith lawfare, aimed at making noise rather than making sense.
So now, he’s on the precipice of loss number fifteen. Only this time, the scoreboard reads: defamation, abuse of process, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. And unlike an election, this one comes with dollar signs. Real ones.
Because this isn’t about revenge—it’s about accountability. It’s about setting a precedent that you don’t get to weaponize the courts as a smear machine and expect everyone to just move on. You don’t get to play prosecutor, judge, and media flack from your keyboard and think there won’t be blowback when you’re wrong.
David Waters wanted attention. He’s about to get all the legal attention he can handle.
Zero wins. Zero validated complaints. And soon? Zero defamation victories.
Let that sink in. This weekend, as he reflects on yet another failed attempt to stay relevant, he may want to ask himself one simple question:
What two political mirrors did he break to deserve this kind of karma?
Now, for those critics out there quick to remind me—I did run for Mayor once and lost. Guilty as charged. But once was enough for me. Not three times. And certainly not thirteen complaints. That being said, with the way things have been going in Indy lately, I’ve actually been approached about running again. My standard response? Get permission from the Lovely Mrs. Shabazz and find me five million dollars. Although, honestly, I think three million would be sufficient. Regardless, it’ll be easier for you to find the $3–5 million than to get her to sign off on it.
But I digress.
With the way Waters has been filing lawsuits like it’s fantasy football season, that 0–15 record will likely climb even higher—especially after his legal filings against the Marion County Fair Board get tossed in the same trash bin as the rest of his antics.
Tick tock, David. The clock just struck accountability.
Mic dropped.