Banditry

By Zayyad I. Muhammad

The insecurity challenges in Nigeria, particularly banditry, have defied simplistic solutions. While the kinetic approach, military and law enforcement operations, has achieved some notable successes, it has not produced the outcome of sustainable peace. Instead, it has often fueled a cycle of violence between state and non-state actors, while local communities continue to suffer. To break this cycle, there is a compelling need to complement kinetic measures with non-kinetic strategies such as dialogue, community engagement, education, intelligence-driven peacebuilding, and socio-economic empowerment.

The kinetic approach is necessary but insufficient. It weakens the operational strength of criminal groups but fails to address the root causes of insecurity, such as poverty, unemployment, social injustice, and a lack of community trust in the government. In some cases, heavy-handed operations or operational errors can create resentment among local populations, inadvertently attracting recruits to criminal networks.

The non-kinetic measures are designed to fill the gaps left by the actions of military and security forces, as well as to reduce unnecessary pressures on security forces. These include: building trust through dialogue with traditional rulers, religious leaders, and local influencers, including the actors themselves; creating opportunities for youth through education, vocational training, and employment; rehabilitation and reintegration, including providing pathways for repentant bandits or militants to rejoin society; intelligence gathering and strengthening human intelligence networks within communities to prevent attacks before they occur.

In combating insecurity, multi-stakeholder engagement is imperative, as national security cannot be achieved solely by the federal government. A sustainable strategy requires the active participation of state governments in tailoring responses to local realities. Support from local governments in intelligence gathering and community mobilisation is also essential. 

Engagement of traditional and religious institutions as custodians of local values and mediators in conflict resolution, as well as collaboration with civil society and development partners to address humanitarian and socio-economic needs, is equally important. The government should also introduce local language media programs through social media and other media, it will reach and enlighten the bandits and other insurgents

The current approach of adopting a hybrid security framework that blends military action with non-kinetic approaches to create both deterrence and reconciliation is commendable. This dialogue approach should be institutionalised through community dialogue platforms. Furthermore, establishing regular consultation forums where local leaders and security agencies exchange intelligence and build trust is also important. 

Investment in youth empowerment and the development of targeted programs for skills acquisition, entrepreneurship, and agricultural employment should be integrated into the non-kinetic approach to undercut the appeal of criminal networks. 

Another vital element is strengthening data-driven decision-making by basing security strategies on rigorous research, mapping conflict-prone areas, and conducting historical analyses of community dynamics. Fighting insecurity is a continuous process; any slack will have a negative impact. Therefore, creating measurable benchmarks and developing monitoring frameworks to evaluate the success of both kinetic and non-kinetic interventions over time will be beneficial.

No government can afford to sustain a security approach that fails to deliver positive outcomes. A purely kinetic strategy risks perpetuating violence, while a strictly non-kinetic approach may embolden criminal groups. The way forward lies in a carefully balanced model that applies force where necessary, while simultaneously addressing the root causes of insecurity through dialogue, trust-building, and socio-economic development. Only by harmonising both approaches can Nigeria break the cycle of violence and build a foundation for sustainable peace and security.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja via zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Muhammad Abubakar

Shock and outrage have trailed the appearance of a notorious militia leader, Babaro, at a government-backed peace dialogue in Faskari Local Government Area on Sunday. The bandit commander, long accused of mass killings and sexual violence, arrived at the meeting heavily armed and in a convoy, alongside his fighters.

Witnesses said Babaro and his gang openly flaunted their weapons, taunted residents, and bragged that “nothing will happen to them” despite years of terrorising communities across Katsina and neighbouring states.

Babaro is accused of carrying out some of the deadliest attacks in the region, including the massacre of more than 50 worshippers during morning prayers at Unguwar Mantau Mosque in August. Survivors say the bloodstains of that slaughter are still visible on the mosque’s walls and floor. He is also alleged to have raped women and girls in front of their families, and, together with fellow warlord Kachalla Isiya Akwashi Garwa, killed an unconfirmed number of people, particularly in the Faskari axis.

In Kankara, Malumfashi, and other parts of Katsina, his name has become synonymous with fear, mass abductions, and relentless bloodshed.

The decision to give Babaro and his fighters a seat at a peace meeting has left victims’ families devastated. Relatives of abducted persons, some of whom attended the dialogue, broke down in tears as they watched the same men who killed their loved ones sit at the negotiating table with impunity.

Amnesty International Nigeria sharply criticised the development, warning that privileging armed groups while silencing victims only deepens injustice.

“The mere notion that it is now acceptable for a group of people in Nigeria to carry arms that are solely used to kill people who are never armed is unbelievable,” said Isa Sanusi, spokesperson of Amnesty International Nigeria. “The assumption that those who are carrying sophisticated arms and decorate themselves with bullet magazines can accept peace or are ready to renounce violence is faulty. Nonsense.”

Sanusi questioned how bandits like Babaro continue to obtain weapons and logistical support while victims are left unprotected, marginalised, and ignored.

The Faskari meeting has reignited anger over the government’s controversial peace overtures to armed groups in the northwest, where thousands of people have been killed, abducted, and displaced in a decade-long wave of violence.

By Haroon Aremu Abiodun

“Any country where lawmaking is more lucrative than law enforcement, there must be insecurity.”

That was the piercing submission of veteran Nollywood actor Kanayo O. Kanayo in a podcast interview. This quote still lingers in my mind like a haunting prophecy. Sadly, Nigeria appears to be a textbook example of that paradox.

This raises a chilling question: can we ever be safe in a nation where those crafting the laws live like kings, while those enforcing them die like pawns?

The roads tremble with fear, and villages sleep with one eye open. From Abuja to Zamfara, from the creeks of the Delta to Anambra, to the rocky hills of Birnin Gwari, the word “insecurity” has become a national refrain. 

In whispered conversations and on trending hashtags, Nigerians continue to ask: Can banditry, kidnapping, and terrorism ever truly end in Nigeria?

While President Bola Ahmed Tinubu continues to pledge security reforms, and National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu issues strategic statements, the reality on the ground often contradicts this. The Chief of Defence Staff, General Christopher Musa, may be leading an army of patriots. Still, their valour is constantly undermined by systemic inequality, in which the pen is paid more than the gun.

I Witnessed the Truth

In early June, I attended a deeply insightful citizenship engagement forum hosted by Voice of Nigeria (VON). Dignitaries, including the Minister of Information, NSA Ribadu, the Chief of Defence Staff, and other notable figures,were present. But one story shared by the Chief of Defence Staff froze the air.

He recalled a young bandit who surrendered. The military, adopting a “soft approach,” chose not to brutalise him but instead treated him humanely. He was given food, a warm bath, and, for the first time in his life, a mattress.

This wasn’t just about physical comfort. It was symbolic. The boy, barely old enough to vote, said he had never lain on a mattress before. That was his first taste of civilisation, and it came not from a school or community, but from an army barracks. The boy had joined a group of killers not out of hatred, but out of hopelessness.

The Root of the Rot: 3Es

With what the Chief of Defence Staff said, I was able to conclude that part of the root of Nigeria’s security crisis lies in the absence of the “3Es”: Education, Exposure, and Enlightenment. These are not luxuries; they are necessities. And in the North, where banditry has gained a more frightening foothold, their absence is glaring.

It is time for Northern governors to rise beyond rhetoric. The federal government cannot win this war alone. State leaders must begin by reforming their education systems, investing in enlightenment campaigns, and introducing programs that truly expose their youth to life beyond the confines of their communities. Kano State has led the way in propagating and championing this initiative among the northern states, but efforts should be intensified.

Can we save Nigeria? Yes, but not with a centralised, top-down approach. What we need is collaborative security. Community policing must be revived with village chiefs and family heads forming the first line of surveillance.

Security consciousness must be made more crucial and integrated into school curricula and public messaging. Employment generation must become more than a campaign slogan. A graduate left idle is one WhatsApp message away from recruitment into darkness.

“If community policing is fully implemented, it will become far easier to identify and expose those secretly sponsoring or benefiting from terrorism right from the grassroots. Local vigilance, trust networks, and community-driven intelligence can expose hidden collaborators who often conceal their activities behind political or economic influence. Such a system not only strengthens national security but also empowers citizens to take active ownership of their safety and future.”

This is to say, the fight against terror will not be won by guns alone, but by communities standing as the first line of defence

The Role of Institutions

The Ministry of Education and the National Orientation Agency (NOA) must now take centre stage. It is no longer enough to teach arithmetic and grammar; we must now teach security literacy. The young must understand the real consequences of crime. They must be exposed to alternatives.

This encompasses school tours, street theatre, online campaigns, community mentorship, and genuine partnerships between public and private stakeholders.

There is hope. There are patriots in uniform. There are children yet untouched by corruption. There are teachers still driven by conscience. However, all their efforts will be for nothing if lawmakers continue to earn more than those who risk their lives.

The EFCC may chase funds across Iceland and Dubai. The DSS may foil plots in Lagos and Maiduguri. However, until we address the imbalance and make justice more rewarding than crime, we will remain trapped in this cycle.

Let us not wait until another child lies on a mattress in a military cell to realise what he has never had.

Let that mattress be our wake-up call.

So, to President Tinubu, to the NSA Ribadu, to the Defence Chief, and to every governor who still believes in this country: The war will not be won on the battlefield alone; it will be won in the classroom, in the family compound, in the village square, and in the heart of every Nigerian.

Before we talk about weapons, let’s talk about mattresses.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun, An Author, public Affairs Analyst, PRNigeria fellow and wrote in via exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Uzair Adam

Governor Dauda Lawal of Zamfara State has accused political interference and lack of cooperation from security agencies of frustrating efforts to end the decade-long banditry crisis that has devastated the state.

Speaking during a media briefing with local journalists in Gusau on Monday, the governor lamented that despite deploying modern surveillance technology capable of tracking the movement of bandits, his government remains helpless because he lacks direct control over security operatives.

Governor Lawal said, “Sometimes, I can see the bandits moving around on my phone because of the technology we are using. I know where they are, where they go, and where they come from.

“But I cannot stop them because I have no power to command the security personnel. If I had that authority, I swear, within two weeks we would end this problem.”

Lawal disclosed that his administration has engaged more than 2,000 hunters and vigilantes from Yobe and Maiduguri, placing them on monthly salaries and equipping them with vehicles and weapons.

However, he expressed frustration that at one point, these recruits were barred from engaging bandits in Shinkafi after a directive was issued to halt their operations.

The governor noted, “This is our biggest challenge. We have men on the ground, well-motivated and ready to confront the bandits, but sometimes they are told not to act. What then do we do?”

Despite the setbacks, Lawal said his administration has spent heavily to support conventional security agencies, including the purchase of 150 new vehicles recently distributed to them.

He explained that he made the tough decision to provide such resources, even though accountability could expose his government to criticism, because he believes leadership is a trust from God.

Zamfara State has in recent years become the epicenter of banditry in northwestern Nigeria.

Armed groups kill, abduct, and displace villagers, often operating in broad daylight. The violence has left many women widowed and children orphaned, while farmers are prevented from cultivating their lands.

Kidnapping for ransom has become a routine source of funding for the armed gangs, worsening poverty and instability across the state.

The governor, visibly emotional, admitted that the situation sometimes moves him to tears, confessing, “There are moments I cry. I see where bandits should be stopped, but nothing happens because instructions have to come from Abuja.

“I have handed everything to God, but I will never stop doing what I can to restore peace to our people,” he added.

He also questioned the motives of the attackers, asking why they target poor villagers who can barely afford food. “What has the common man done to you?” Lawal asked.

He further pledged, “If you want schools, I will build schools. If you want hospitals, I will provide hospitals. If you want water, I will ensure you get water. All so that we can have peace.”

Governor Lawal accused political actors of exploiting insecurity for selfish interests, warning that such actions harm the entire state.

“Security has been politicized,” he said.

He declared, “Anyone enjoying this situation, or trying to use it for politics, may God disgrace them and expose their secrets. If they seek power, may God deny it to them. And if they already hold power, may God take it away, because the injustice has become too much.”

Despite the challenges, the governor reassured Zamfara residents of his determination to defeat banditry, vowing that his government would not relent until peace and stability are restored.

By Muhammad Abubakar

At least 1,111 Nigerians were killed and 276 abducted by gunmen and other non-state actors across the country in June 2025, according to a new report by Beacon Security and Intelligence Limited.

The chilling figures are contained in the company’s monthly security dossier, which tracks violence and criminal activity nationwide. Despite the high numbers, the report notes that June witnessed a “notable de-escalation” in security breaches compared to May, suggesting a slight dip in the frequency or intensity of attacks.

While the report did not provide a full regional breakdown, sources familiar with the data say many of the killings occurred in the North West and North Central zones, where banditry and communal violence remain rampant. Parts of the South East also continue to grapple with targeted killings and kidnappings by separatist-linked armed groups.

The 276 abductions show the persistent threat of kidnapping-for-ransom, which has plagued Nigeria for years, affecting schoolchildren, commuters, and rural dwellers alike.

Security analysts say the figures, though slightly improved from previous months, still reflect a deepening crisis. They have called for more coordinated action by federal and state authorities to strengthen local intelligence, improve response times, and hold perpetrators accountable.

The government has yet to respond to the latest statistics, but critics argue that repeated assurances of improved security have not translated into meaningful safety for the average Nigerian.

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

Security forces in Katsina State, Northern Nigeria, have announced the killing of 30 bandits following a counter-operation in Faskari Local Government Area.

The action came in response to attacks launched by the terrorists on three villages within the state on Tuesday.

The bandits had targeted the villages of Kadisau, Raudama, and Sabon Layi.

This prompted a coordinated response involving ground troops from the police and army, supported by the Nigerian Air Force.

The joint operation successfully neutralized 30 terrorists.

However, the engagement resulted in the loss of five security personnel and one civilian.Katsina State Commissioner for Internal Security, Dr. Nasir Mu’azu, confirmed the success.

He stated that security forces, acting on prior intelligence about the bandits’ planned attack, deployed personnel from Dandume and the Nigerian Air Force to intercept the assailants.

“After a prolonged gunfight involving ground and air assets,” Mu’azu said, “the bandits’ attempted attack was successfully repelled.”

Katsina State is located in Nigeria’s troubled North-West region, which has endured persistent bandit attacks leading to significant loss of lives and property.

By Abdulrahman Sani  

It started like any other routine assignment. A simple task in a place that, on paper, seemed no different from the others. I was sent to a remote village in the heart of the North West, tasked with completing an enumeration in a region that was increasingly known for its volatile security situation. But what I didn’t realise then was that this seemingly innocuous assignment would lead me straight into the heart of danger.

The village, Rugar Yashi, sat on the fringes of the wilderness, far from the usual path of most travellers. The journey had been long, but I arrived early enough to begin work without delay. The protocol for entering any enumeration area was clear. 

Before stepping foot into the village, I was to call my security contact to get a briefing, obtain clearance, and receive a pass that would ensure my safety. I dialled his number repeatedly, but there was no answer. I tried once more, but the line remained dead. Frustration rose within me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the realisation that I had no choice but to proceed.

I wasn’t new to the idea of security checks. Over time, I had come to view the process as a mere formality, a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things. Security clearance was just another uncomfortable routine, a small hurdle before getting to the heart of the work. The reality of how precarious the situation honestly was hadn’t fully sunk in. In my mind, it was just another remote village, no different from the countless others I had visited. Little did I know, I was about to step into the lion’s den.

The Village on the Edge of a Whisper

Rugar Yashi wasn’t on any tourist map. You wouldn’t stumble upon it unless you were sent there or running from something.

The place looked serene, almost cinematic. It was tucked neatly between rustling trees and the distant hum of wilderness. I walked in alone, unseen by the world, accompanied only by a curious blend of optimism and unawareness.

I didn’t meet him in the village.

I met him at a farm by accident.

He was tending to something near a stand of goruba trees. I greeted him and mentioned I needed a cutlass to slice through one of the fruits. Without hesitation, he handed me his.

It was only after I introduced myself, explaining why I had come and what I was doing, that he nodded and said simply,

“I’ll guide you.”

That was it.

No suspicion. No resistance. Just a quiet offer that, in hindsight, held far more weight than I realised.

And so we began.

He led. I followed.

At first, he was nothing more than a helpful local. His voice was calm, measured. He spoke sparingly, and when he did, it was often with a faint, unreadable smile. The villagers treated him with a mixture of casual reverence and respect. Nothing overt. Just the kind of nods, glances, and silences that said more than words ever could.

Of Questions and Rifles

As we walked through Rugar Yashi, I quickly noticed something odd. The men around us were armed. Their rifles glinted in the sun as they moved with deliberate ease. Their eyes darted around, scanning the horizon as if waiting for something—anything—out of the ordinary. Some of them offered brief nods of acknowledgement to my guide, a quiet understanding passing between them that I couldn’t quite place.

At first, I dismissed it. I assumed they were simply vigilantes, locals tasked with protecting their community. The village seemed peaceful. The people were humble. And my task was simple. What could go wrong?

We continued through the village, and I conducted my enumeration with the usual questions—family members, occupations, and living conditions. He knew exactly where to take me. At one point, I inquired about his family, which was part of the enumeration form. He smiled and said that his brother, Aliyu, was studying at ABU Zaria. I nodded and moved on.

It sounded plausible enough.

After the work was done, he walked me to the edge of the village where a group of armed men stood, exchanging hushed words and scanning the trees. As we passed, they gave us more than a passing glance. He shook my hand, gave me his contact information, and said casually,

“Call me next time before you come. It’s safer that way.”

I smiled, nodded, and walked away. The road back to the main track was quiet. Just a few goats, wind in the trees, and my own footsteps.

The Call

Then my phone rang.

It was the security contact I had been trying to reach all morning. His voice came through tense and unfiltered.

“Where are you?”

“Done. Just leaving Rugar Yashi.”

There was a pause, and then his voice dropped.

“Who did you work with?”

I gave a brief description. His voice turned sharp.

“That man you were with, Labbo Jauro? He’s one of the most notorious bandit leaders in the region. His brother isn’t at Zaria. He was killed months ago. Deep in the forests of Niger.”

Silence.

The kind that makes your spine go cold.

I had shared a blade with him and walked through the village under his protection. Sat beside him in quiet moments. All while unknowingly under the watchful eyes of armed men who could have changed the course of my story in an instant.

The glances. The nods. The stillness in the air. It all made sense now.

But at the time, I thought I was just doing my job.

Reflection on the Edge

Looking back, I wonder whether he knew what I didn’t. Whether he had already decided for me before I’d even finished cutting that goruba fruit. Or whether, by some strange twist of fate, I had walked straight into danger and was spared not by wisdom or caution, but by simple, Divine grace.

That day in Rugar, Yashi changed how I saw the work. It blurred the line between routine and risk. It reminded me that, sometimes, the man offering help in the fields may be more than just a friendly farmer.

Sometimes, he’s the one everyone else fears.

And sometimes, he’s the reason you make it back home alive.

Postscript: This story is based on a true account. The subject’s name has been omitted, and the narrative is told in the first person by the author. Specific details have been altered or excluded to protect privacy and ensure safety.

Abdulrahman Sani can be contacted via Twitter @philosopeace.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

Before the emergence of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration, Nigeria’s security architecture was grappling with deeply entrenched challenges, particularly in the Northwest and Southeast regions. The situation had deteriorated to alarming levels, with criminal elements and secessionist movements establishing a disturbing level of control in certain areas.

In the Northwest, banditry had evolved from sporadic attacks to the full-scale occupation of territories. Vast stretches of land, especially in states like Kaduna, Zamfara, and Niger, fell under the influence of heavily armed groups. The Abuja-Kaduna highway, which was once a vital economic and commuter route, became a perilous stretch, notorious for frequent kidnappings and ambushes. 

The Northwestern security threats extended further, with the Kaduna–Birnin Gwari–Lagos road effectively shut down due to sustained bandit activity. Even commercial life suffered significantly; the Birnin Gwari cattle market, a major hub for livestock trade, was forced to cease operations under the pressure of violence and extortion.

Meanwhile, in the Southeast, the situation was compounded by the secessionist agitation led by the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB). Through fear and coercion, IPOB succeeded in enforcing a weekly sit-at-home directive across several states in the region, paralysing economic activities every Monday. Businesses were shuttered, schools closed, and the freedom of movement was severely curtailed, undermining both governance and development efforts.

This was the grim reality that the Tinubu administration inherited. However, at the heart of the renewed fight against insecurity stands a strategic recalibration: what many now refer to as the “Nuhu Ribadu Formula.” As National Security Adviser, Ribadu brought a fresh, intelligence-driven approach to tackling Nigeria’s security woes. With an emphasis on coordination among security agencies, restoration of public confidence, and targeted offensives against criminal enclaves, his methods have begun yielding tangible results.

While challenges persist, especially in remote and hard-to-reach areas, the difference in tone and trajectory is becoming increasingly evident. The Ribadu-led security strategy has not only focused on reclaiming territory but also on addressing the root causes of unrest, be it poverty, weak governance, or community grievances. It is this multidimensional and proactive approach that may well define Nigeria’s path to lasting peace and stability.

Mallam Nuhu Ribadu, the National Security Adviser, has been pivotal in reshaping Nigeria’s national security framework through a clear and strategic vision built on three foundational pillars.

The first is the carrot-and-stick approach, which balances kinetic (military force) and non-kinetic (dialogue, reconciliation, and development) strategies. This dual-pronged approach acknowledges that not all security threats can be addressed solely through force. By combining targeted military operations with community engagement and deradicalisation efforts, the approach aims to neutralise threats while addressing the root causes of violence.

The second strategy is a shift from rhetoric to action, a deliberate move away from endless briefings and political grandstanding towards concrete, measurable outcomes. Under Ribadu’s watch, security interventions are now judged not by promises, but by performance. The focus is on restoring peace, reclaiming lost territories, and enabling displaced persons to return to their communities.

Third is the promotion of synergy and intelligence sharing among security agencies. Previously plagued by inter-agency rivalry and fragmented operations, Nigeria’s security forces are now operating with improved coordination. Through unified command structures and shared intelligence platforms, responses have become faster, more precise, and increasingly proactive.

These strategies have already begun to yield visible results. The recent resurgence of attacks in Plateau and Benue States, as well as isolated Boko Haram assaults on soft targets in Borno and Adamawa, were swiftly countered using the same framework. Rapid deployment of forces, community-based intelligence, and coordinated operations prevented escalation and restored calm.

Still, the road to full recovery is a gradual one. While the machinery of state security has been retooled, the average citizen may not immediately perceive these gains. Part of the challenge lies in the persistence of outdated or unverified reports in some sections of the media, which can paint a distorted picture of the current realities. Nevertheless, those on the ground, especially in previously hard-hit areas, are beginning to sense a shift.

The “Nuhu Ribadu Formula” is proving to be more than just a tactical adjustment; it is an evolving doctrine that prioritises effectiveness, accountability, and collaboration. With sustained implementation and public support, it could well become the blueprint for enduring peace in Nigeria.

Zayyad I. Muhammad writes from Abuja, zaymohd@yahoo.com.

By Prof. Abdussamad Umar Jibia

Some years ago, a group of students from Kaduna state came to my office, lamenting how Muslim elders imposed a Christian candidate on them and rigged him into power. They even told how an Emir and some elders called Islamic scholars and warned them against remonstration in their preachings. “How can we bear this disgrace?” my students were frustrated.

I said, “You can solve the problem and make governance difficult for the imposed Governor”. The young people paid attention, expecting an “academic” solution to their problem. “The Governor cannot rule Kaduna state alone. Since the majority are against him, why not look for and beat up anyone who accepts his political appointment?” I offered.

My students looked at one another and said, “Sir, there will be chaos and mass arrest”. Poor them, they want to bring change, are not happy with what is happening, and are afraid of arrest. “The alternative is to support the unpopular Governor and struggle for your share of the haram”, I finalised the discussion.

In the case of my Kaduna state students, the problem was election rigging, even though there was relative peace in their state, at least up to that time. In the case of Katsina people, it has been killing, kidnapping, rape, stealing, etc. How have the people reacted to the politicians they elected to solve the problem of insecurity? 

Several people have asked why they no longer see my comments on insecurity, and I always reply that I am busy with other things. I am busy, but not too busy to write a few paragraphs to express my opinion. However, it reached a point where I began to ask, as far as insecurity is concerned, who is the culprit? Whom should I write to blame? The Government? The military? The masses?

Going by the advice I gave Kaduna youth, one would expect that no elected politician would have the guts to go to any community ravaged by insecurity in Katsina or nearby states. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I saw people who lost some of their closest relatives to banditry staunchly supporting a politician, whose actions mean that their losses do not matter. Bandits displaced a community, but I saw their youth on social media actively supporting politicians who were giving public money to bandits in the name of the peace agreement.

If you are actively fighting for those victims through writing or interviews, and you offend any politician, you should be ready to get a good beating from some of the banditry victims if that is what would please the politician.

So, whom should I blame? Do the people take no blame? What of the military? Should I write to blame the masses as weak as they are? Should I write to condemn the military as strongly as they are? Should I not be afraid of arrest like my Kaduna students? If I offend the military, and you must surely offend them if you will tell the truth about insecurity, who would bail me out when I am arrested and tagged a troublemaker or any name they decide to give me?

The cheapest people to blame are the politicians. Everybody is against them. Public money is in their hands, and they are spending it on weddings and musicians, just like we witnessed in Katsina. But are all the people criticising them sincere? Would they not do the same if they were in their position? Some of these things were the reason Nigerians voted PDP out ten years ago, and the “saints” they elected are doing the same.

If you are expecting me to continue directing my blame to politicians, you will be disappointed. While they have their fair share of the blame for insecurity, we also have our share as victims. 

The masses should take my advice to the Kaduna youth if they can. They can only beat the politicians or join them. For the politicians, I have no words. Only the masses can deal with them if they take the first side of my advice. For me, I shall keep mum about the military because I am a coward.

For other Nigerians, continue to enjoy yourselves before insecurity reaches your side. I pray it will not.

Prof Abdussamad Umar Jibia wrote via aujibia@gmail.com.

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini 

Bandits have kidnapped Nafisa Usman, a married woman, from her home in Gayi village, Kalgo Local Government Area of Kebbi State.  

The attackers reportedly invaded her residence around 2:00 a.m. on Friday, broke into her room, and took her away without harming others.  

Family sources said the kidnappers, believed to be herdsmen, are demanding N20 million for her release.  

Alhaji Yahya Kuka, Chairman of Kalgo LGA, condemned the abduction and pledged efforts to secure her safe return.  

The Kebbi State Police Public Relations Officer, Nafiu Abubakar, could not be reached for comment at press time.