By Abdulhakeem Yetu Zakari
Across Nigeria today, the earth is wet with the blood of innocents. Villages are raided without warning, highways have become death traps and communities live in a cloud of constant fear.
Yet, even as the nation bleeds, much of the political class appears more fixated on the 2027 elections than on saving lives in 2025.
Insecurity has become a cruel backdrop to political ambition—a painful reminder that, for many leaders, the pursuit of power still matters more than the safety and survival of the people.
The current administration, led by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, was elected on a promise to restore security and revive the nation’s economy. But less than two years into his tenure, insurgency, banditry, and economic instability have remained stubbornly persistent.
What was supposed to be an era of renewed hope has turned into a daily struggle for survival for millions of Nigerians. Despite interventions by security agencies, no significant improvement has been recorded.
Families are displaced from their homes. Schools are shut down. Markets are abandoned. Mass graves are dug with horrifying regularity.
States such as Zamfara, Benue, Plateau, and Borno have become synonymous with unending violence.
Our beloved Nigeria—once full of hope and promise—is fast becoming a theatre of tragedy. Critics argue that government efforts have been largely reactive instead of proactive. Intelligence failures are frequent.
Security operations often come late. Many see a dangerous lack of political will to tackle the root causes of insecurity: endemic poverty, chronic youth unemployment, and deep ethnic divisions.
Without addressing these underlying issues, peace will remain a distant dream.
Yet, even as insecurity deepens, political calculations for 2027 are already underway. Massive defections are occurring across political parties as politicians jostle for advantage and consolidation of power.
Instead of emergency summits on security, we see strategic meetings on how to win elections.
The people, who ought to be the priority, are pushed to the margins of political discourse. Their cries are drowned by the noisy drumbeats of political ambition.
Nigerians deserve better. They deserve leaders who value their lives more than the pursuit of office. They deserve leaders who recognize that every life lost is a national tragedy, not just a statistic.
If current trends continue unchecked, by the time the 2027 elections arrive, Nigeria may have paid a price in blood too heavy to bear—and whatever victory is achieved will be a hollow, shameful one.
Nigeria stands today at a crossroads. The choices made in security, governance, and leadership over the next year will determine whether the country finds its way back to the path of stability and progress—or slips even deeper into violence and despair.
As the blood of innocent Nigerians continues to soak the ground, one question cries out louder than any campaign slogan: Who will listen? Who will act? And when?
The time to choose between survival and ambition is now. Nigeria cannot afford to wait until 2027 to find out what path we chose.