Insecurity In Nigeria

By Oladoja M.O

A peculiar tragedy defines the Nigerian state—a complete surrender of responsibility by those elected to bear it, a full-blown case of irresponsibility institutionalised at the highest levels. It is as if we are not being led at all. It is as if we are simply being watched, pitied, and narrated to. Our so-called leaders behave like helpless spectators, not as those with the authority to fix the very problems they moan about.

Shamefully, Nigeria lacks leadership. Instead, it has men and women who love the microphone more than the mandate. We are not governed; we are narrated. Commentators rule us.

Just days ago, a State Governor resurfaced with yet another alarming statement: that Boko Haram has infiltrated the government. Again. This is not the first time he has said something like this. Several times, he has come out to decry the killings, to point fingers, to lament the destruction. And every single time, one question keeps hanging in the air. What exactly has he, as the Chief Security Officer of the state, done about it? What has he changed? What systems has he challenged? What heads have rolled under his watch? Where is the real action beyond the endless news appearances and emotional speeches? It is not enough to wear a bulletproof vest and take a stroll in a burned village. That is not leadership. That is performance.

I mean, this individual is not a social media activist. He is not a political analyst. Not a powerless citizen. He is not a sympathiser. He is a sitting governor, for goodness’ sake! He has the resources, influence, and intelligence at his disposal. If all he can do is complain, then he has failed. And that is the bitter truth. Or how did the weight of office shrink to the mere performance of sympathy and public outrage? Because, for all I know, leaders do not just point to problems. They solve them. They don’t weep when the house burns. They command the water. But what we see here is the opposite. 

It is as if holding public office in Nigeria has been reduced to a loud-speaking exercise. The governor speaks. The senators speak. The representatives hold press conferences. Everybody speaks. But nobody leads. They describe problems they were empowered to solve, like detached observers, rather than active change agents. It is nauseating. It is tragic. It is dangerous because this governor is just one symptom of a far deeper rot. 

Nigeria’s leadership structure is littered with voices that echo sorrow and rage without ever lifting a finger to stop the bleeding. The National Assembly, for instance, has become a festival of talkers. Lawmakers who go to the chambers not to legislate, but to lament. Some of them even act as if their job is to criticise the government when in fact, they are the government. You hear them talk on TV and wonder if they were mistakenly sworn into opposition. These are people elected to craft laws, drive policies, and oversee the executive. Instead, they pick microphones and begin to “express worry”, “condemn in strong terms”, and “call on the federal government”, as though they are not the federal government themselves. It is embarrassing. It is pathetic. It is a national disgrace that the loudest voices in power are often the most passive in a country so battered.

And the tragedy is even louder when we look at the so-called new breed. For instance, Peter Obi has earned some Nigerians’ admiration because they see in him a departure from the past. But in reality, he’s just the same recycled blaming and deflecting game-player. Recently, when asked about the internal crisis tearing through the Labour Party, a party he is seen as the head of, his response was a flat finger-pointing exercise. He explained who caused what and who did what. Zero sense of responsibility. No ownership, nor a plan to fix it. Is it hard to understand that leadership is not explaining the problem but solving it? What are we banking on if someone aspiring to govern 200 million people cannot manage internal party squabbles?

Being soft-spoken and throwing statistics around is not leadership. Nigerians need people who carry the weight of responsibility and act with urgency, not people who are always ready with talking points. 

This country is bleeding. Virtually every region, every sector, every institution is either hoping to set into recovery or picking up the pieces. From poverty to insecurity, from joblessness to healthcare collapse, from fuel inflation to decaying infrastructure, we are a nation gasping for air. And what do our leaders do? They gather at events and in press briefings to express sympathy. They talk. They hold conferences. They issue long tweets. And then they disappear. It is now a full-blown epidemic. Everyone in power wants to talk about the problem. No one wants to be responsible for the solution. They love the headlines. They love the interviews. But they vanish when it is time for hard decisions, bold reforms, and deep accountability.

This is not what leadership looks like. Leadership means bearing the burden of others. It means thinking, planning, executing, sweating, failing, trying again, and never passing the buck. But Nigerian leaders today see power as a shield from responsibility. To them, power is for glory, not for duty. It is for the title, not for toil. And we, the people, must also take some blame. Because time after time, we bring these same people back. We vote them in. We defend them. We hail them. We wash, rinse, and repackage them for another round of useless governance. It is insanity.

A time must come, and it should be now, when Nigerians wake up to the bitter reality that democracy today is mostly a circus—a time when we say it clearly and loudly: enough with all the empty noise. We do not want more commentators, glorified orators, or prophets of doom in positions of power.

We want leadership. Real, practical, accountable leadership.

If you are in the office, your job is not to narrate the problem. Your job is to change it. If you are the governor and your people are being killed, we expect action, not pity. If you are a senator and the economy is crashing, we expect reform, not press conferences. Don’t blame others if you are a party leader and your house is on fire. Fix it. Nigeria can no longer afford leaders who vanish when it matters most. We cannot survive another decade of commentators posing as commanders. The country is on the brink, and what we need now are not voices of complaint, but minds of action and hearts of steel.

Until that happens, let the records reflect it. We are not being led. We are being narrated to. And that is the greatest insult of all.

Oladoja M.O writes from Abuja and can be reached at: mayokunmark@gmail.com

By Haroon Aremu Abiodun

April is traditionally a month of pranks and laughter. But in Nigeria, the joke was on no one except, perhaps, on a nation whose security architecture is under siege from terrorists, bandits, and kidnappers.

Far from fearing our security operatives, criminal elements across the country displayed shocking audacity, reminding us that the battle for Nigeria’s soul remains bloody and unresolved.

In a horrific display of lawlessness, notorious bandit leader Bello Turji celebrated Eid in Sokoto by executing kidnapped victims, recording and broadcasting the gruesome act without fear of consequences. Across parts of Katsina, Kaduna, and Zamfara, bandits not only continued their reign of terror but have begun levying taxes and operating parallel governments in areas still supposedly under state control.

Compounding public anxiety, National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu made headlines when he advised families of kidnapped victims to “stop paying ransom.” While theoretically sound, the reality is far more brutal. Without swift and credible government intervention, desperate families have no option but to finance their tragedies. Until state forces can decisively rescue captives, this vicious cycle will continue.

In just one month, attacks escalated across Plateau, Kwara, and Benue States, leaving communities in mourning. Boko Haram and ISWAP insurgents resurfaced with deadly ambushes, signalling their continued relevance in Nigeria’s security equation.

April’s bloodshed has revealed operational lapses and a deep strategic and moral crisis. The Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA) must urgently intensify efforts, especially by working discreetly with rescued victims to extract intelligence, boost surveillance systems, and dismantle criminal networks worldwide.

While commendable successes by security operatives, such as rescuing hostages and recovering illegal arms, were recorded, they were dwarfed by the scale of atrocities witnessed within just 30 days.

The Department of State Services (DSS), often criticised and even facing calls for disbandment, must seize this moment to redeem itself. Encouragingly, recent commendations from the Plateau State Government and Governor Uba Sani of Kaduna for the DSS’s contributions to curbing insecurity suggest a glimmer of institutional reliability. Their successful arrests of gunrunners and dismantling of kidnapping syndicates are steps in the right direction.

Notably, the DSS also intercepted a British Army Major in Delta State attempting to smuggle 50 AK-47 rifles and ammunition—a major bust, and a signal that the service can perform under pressure. Their ability to withstand calls for the suspect’s release further strengthens public confidence.

Going forward, DSS and ONSA must strengthen collaboration through real-time joint operations, intelligence sharing, and visible outcomes. The Nigerian Intelligence Agency (NIA) also must integrate its overseas capabilities with ONSA’s domestic strategies. Today’s criminals are sophisticated—our response must be smarter.

Beyond the battlefield, Nigeria’s fight against corruption also demands attention. The Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) must intensify efforts with ongoing arrests of internet fraudsters and by pursuing justice in high-profile cases involving figures like Betta Edu and Sadiya Umar Farouq.

Regarding Aisha Achimugu’s case, the EFCC must adhere to due process and uphold its promise to act with diligence and integrity. Recent arrests, including that of Bauchi State Accountant General Sirajo Muhammad Jaja, show the commission is active, but visibility and transparency are critical.

Despite receiving accolades, such as the Government Spokesperson Award and the Courage in Justice and Transparency Award from the Nigerian Human Rights Community, EFCC must do more to recover funds stolen through schemes like CBEX. Collaborating with Interpol to dismantle international fraud networks and prevent future scams using forged EFCC certificates will reinforce the commission’s credibility locally and abroad.

Transparency is the only antidote to growing public cynicism about the Commission’s integrity.

The Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC), though laudably organising programs like its stakeholders’ meeting on accountability in local government, must now transition from talk to action. Corruption within Ministries, Departments, and Agencies (MDAs) remains rampant. A recent ICPC report showed that over 60% of corruption cases involved diverting healthcare funds—a scandal demanding decisive intervention.

April has ended, but the wounds it inflicted are still fresh. If we’ve learned anything, it is that the fear of the Nigerian state must be restored—not with hollow rhetoric, but through coordinated, courageous, and relentless action.

The enemies of Nigeria no longer fear our uniforms, our institutions, or the name “government.”

The time to act was yesterday. Today is already a dangerous gamble. Tomorrow may be too late.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a PRNigeria Fellow and author. He can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.

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 Sa’adatu Aliyu 

Whenever I think of Nigeria, my mind swiftly veers towards the plot of author Adamu Kyuka Usman’s book “Hope in Anarchy.“ A book that explores the disastrous effects of poverty in Beku City where Ahoka, the main character, finds himself, and how this impoverishment, caused by the enormous economic disparity between the rich and poor, injustice, and political disillusionment, slowly tore into the fabric of society, creating a Republic of criminality and lawlessness, consequently proving that injustice and poverty largely birth insecurity.

Security in a country can’t be underestimated. It is a thread stitching other things together. It is what lets a nation thrive; without it, the potential of a people is diminished, as fear is one of the greatest potential killers. Unfortunately, this menace bedevils our country today, disorganising everything and everyone, causing citizens to lose their lives and means of livelihood. While the state appears to be attempting to tackle this, little success has been recorded, leaving most in utter despair and repeatedly asking: When will this nightmare end?

Similarly, I am writing this piece with the question: When will this mayhem cease? But while also seeking accountability from the government, in addition to challenging them to bring an end to this menace, though I do not want to point accusing fingers at some malicious politician as being in the know of the root cause of this instability or as having direct involvement with the current status quo for one selfish reason or another—primarily to enrich themselves or capitalising on the insecurity to gain political leverage during elections. I firmly believe that we’re not as helpless as we portray.

To quote a PhD student of Political Science, Hamza Aliyu, who is also a political analyst, “Sometimes if there’s a prolonged state of insecurity in a nation, the government is aware of its actors.” Backing former military president Gen. Sani Abacha’s quote, “Any insurgency that lasts more than 24 hours, a government official has a hand in it.” While these claims may be exaggerated, and I do not want to make myself believe such statements, I strongly insist that we cannot continue like this. As such, with the right attitude, there’s a way forward.

And this is why I am calling on President Bola Ahmed Tinubu to put necessary mechanisms in place to fight these insecurities presenting themselves in multiple shades: from ethnic and religious tensions to kidnapping. Doing so will certainly elevate his reputation in the sight of the people; otherwise, the current groaning continues. Moreover, it is wise to do so as a leader who intends to recontest in 2027. If Nigerians were to vote for him, on what basis would that be? The bloodbath, harsh economic policies, or delivering to the people based on the 2023 campaign promises? I think it’s time to look beyond the politics of money (vote buying) because Nigerians are tired of having an endless trail of failed leadership.

Additionally, the Northern part of the country remains the hardest hit, and it is disheartening to see the lack of ingenuity of Northern politicians who care more about sustaining their lavish lifestyles along with those of their families. At the same time, their region is aflame, doing very little to develop the region. I’m using this medium to call on the Arewa Elders’ Forum and Northern politicians and businessmen to put self-interest aside and work tirelessly and collectively towards ensuring regional security. 

And among other things, one of the ways forward is reforming the Almajiranci system of education; Almajiris, being citizens who have become easy targets for electoral violence and other acts of criminality, must be integrated into society and equipped with the necessary basic education and skills to become useful citizens of the country.

Insecurity affects everyone, rich or poor. For this reason, they should invest primarily in securing the region and attract foreign investors, in addition to creating a conducive environment for economic development for hardworking entrepreneurial Nigerians, even if this means devising strategies typically unheard of.  

Difficult situations call for drastic measures. Whether Nigeria has failed as a state and people to secure the nation is not up for debate at this point, but prioritising the security of our people and the way forward is the goal.

If this means seeking foreign intervention from well-equipped and well-trained military mercenaries like the Russian Wagner group to train our security personnel and enhance our security apparatus, I think we should take the plunge. Critics, however, might argue that this move is myopic, as doing so is akin to inviting foreign intervention into the country, which has suffered at the hands of colonialism. 

Moreover, arguments like indulging private mercenaries come at a price, mainly that of exploiting natural resources in exchange for security services. As such, the mercenaries might work against, instead of for, the betterment of the country by worsening the insecurity and prolonging it to continue gaining access to solid or liquid minerals, as seen in CAR, Sudan, Libya, and Mali, where the Russian Wagner group has had some presence. An argument that holds water to an extent, but is essentially not solid in the face of the realities staring Nigeria in the face.

Besides, political meddling by foreign powers, especially the United States and its other Western allies, has been constant in Africa. While ideally, this is a time for the continent to be ridding itself of foreign aid in its multifaceted nature, we have failed to give hope and instil confidence in our people.

As a young military leader, Ibrahim Traore seems to be the only leader currently making waves and admirable political reforms on the continent. However, he might not be the best example to cite for some because his leadership is undemocratic. But who cares about democracy? While the governance system is suited for the West, we Africans must find a system that works to drive significant change and development, fostering capacity building in Africa. It could be a modified form of democracy suited for our place, people, and time – there should be several routes to the market.

Having said that, I am calling on northern politicians to wake up. We do not need more bloodbaths before the fog is parted from our eyes to see the glaring realities of the North. Particularly, the way our elites display wealth, wining and dining in luxury, while their masses are subjected to inhumane conditions at the hands of criminal gangs and biting poverty. The wedding ceremonies of the sons and daughters of elites, intimidatingly littered across social media platforms, with wads of crisp hard currencies on display, sleek exotic cars, and palatial wedding halls, prove our misplaced priorities. We can do better. All that money could go a long way in developing the region, investing it into something that profits the population.

So, I’m calling on the youth of the North as well. The younger generation must try to outdo their fathers, ensuring they work for the good of the nation and not to satisfy their greed. We do not want a country like the Beku City Republic, as rightly portrayed by Adamu Kyuka Usman in “Hope in Anarchy,” where: “The Republican police were sent to arrest armed robbers but did not return. It was later learned they had joined the armed robbers. Eventually, the police and the armed robbers were brought to the judges for trial, but the judges joined them. This is the order of things in our Republic today.” A country “where everyone will prosper by the strength of their arms or perish by the lack of such strength.”

However, while there’s huge dysfunctionality in the nation, I want to convince myself that Nigeria may not be a failed state, despite the anarchy; I’m trying to hold on to hope. But it is undoubtedly unapologetically swaying its shameless hips towards that direction. But we, the masses, cannot afford that. I believe even the rich do not want to wake up to the realities of a nation where deep resentment, as a result of poverty, drives an unquenchable thirst for the blood of the rich.

If President Nayib Bukele of El Salvador can round up notorious criminal gangs, we can restore Nigeria’s peace and security. Therefore, in this spirit, I am calling on Northern youth, Nigerian youth – rich and poor – the nation’s development is in your hands. Rise.

Sa’adatu Aliyu is a tutor at DLC Ahmadu Bello University, pursuing a Master’s in Literature. She writes from Zaria, and can be reached via this email: saadatualiyu36@gmail.com

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu has issued a strong charge to the Nigerian military, urging them to intensify efforts in ending terrorism and banditry while promising improved welfare for troops.  

Speaking to soldiers of the 17 Brigade in Katsina on Friday, Tinubu described the security crisis as a pivotal moment in Nigeria’s history. He called for unwavering resolve in defending the nation’s sovereignty and restoring peace.  

“This is a defining moment,” Tinubu declared. “Nigerians are counting on you to reclaim every inch of our territory. Let the enemies of Nigeria know—their time is up.”  

The President assured troops of better housing, healthcare, timely allowances, and family support. He praised their bravery in combating banditry in Katsina and beyond, stating, “You are the shields of Nigeria, standing between our people and terror.”  

Tinubu’s visit included inaugurating a 24km dual-carriage road and an agricultural mechanisation centre. His message was clear: Nigeria will not surrender to terrorists, and the military will receive full backing to end insecurity.  

“To those who seek to destabilise us,” he warned, “Nigeria will not bow.”

By Hauwa Mohammed Sani PhD

The phrase “No women, no peace” has become a rallying cry for those who recognise the critical role of women in peacebuilding. Yet, in conflict-prone regions like rural Northern Nigeria, this vision often feels like a distant dream. During my recent visit to communities of displaced women, coinciding with the Ramadan period in March 2025, I witnessed heartbreaking realities. Despite the challenges, I remain convinced that positive change is possible and that women hold the key to it.

My first heartbreak came from witnessing the deplorable conditions in which these women live; hunger, poverty, ignorance, and social exclusion were evident in their lives. 

The second heartbreak occurred when a child fetching water fell into a deep, uncovered well. I have never felt a more profound sense of helplessness. 

Although these women may not be able to read, write, or comprehend my work, this article represents my humble contribution to the society I belong to, with the hope that it will reach the ears and eyes of those it may concern.

As a researcher, I am supported by the Science for Africa (SFA) Foundation in Nairobi, Kenya, and the Carnegie Corporation through the Preparing Outstanding Social Science Investigators to Benefit Lives and Environments in Africa initiative (POSSIBLE Africa) Postdoctoral Fellowship. My research aims to go beyond portraying women as victims to spotlight their potential as active peacebuilders in Northern Nigeria.

The statistics are staggering: In the conflict-prone zones of Northern Nigeria, women and girls suffer disproportionately from conflict, displacement, and violence. They flee their homes, lose their livelihoods, and often face trauma that leaves lasting scars. During my visit, I saw this pain firsthand. The tears I shed were more than emotional; they were a testament to the suffering I witnessed.

It is pathetic to recount that these women’s expectations have shrunk to a single plea: “May the government come to our aid.” When I inquired about their own efforts toward peace, they shared that they engage in regular prayers and fasting. Yet, they feel that their tormentors are always one step ahead because they are often accompanied by clerics. Still, they seek spiritual protection and divine intervention, clinging to faith as their last refuge. 

Some even recounted instances where women, in acts of desperation and courage, pretended to be mentally unstable or “mad”, hoping that such displays might scare off their oppressors, which in many instances worked.

This mindset illustrates the psychological toll of prolonged violence and displacement. Over time, a person’s sense of agency may erode. Many begin to see themselves solely as victims, dependent on external rescue.

But women are not just victims of conflict. They are also agents of change. In some rural Northern Nigeria, women are organising themselves into cooperatives, advocating for their rights, and supporting one another to rebuild their communities and foster peace.

How can we support these women in their quest for peace and development?

Amplify their voices: Provide platforms for storytelling, problem-sharing, and solution-finding, for example, through theatre for development, etc.

Build their capacity: Offer education, psychosocial support, and economic empowerment tools. Address root causes: Confront the structural issues, poverty, injustice, and exclusion that feed cycles of violence.

Healing Collective Traumas: From Erasure to Memory

Violent conflict does not just destroy homes; it scars communities. Healing collective trauma involves:

1. Acknowledgement and Recognition: Validating and recognising the suffering of affected communities.

2. Truth-telling and Documentation: Recording stories and preserving collective memory.

3. Community-Based Initiatives: Promoting healing through solidarity groups and cultural activities.

4. Education and Awareness: Raising understanding to encourage empathy and reconciliation.

Conclusion

“No women, no peace” is more than a slogan. It is a truth we must act upon. Women are essential to peacebuilding, particularly in conflict-prone regions like rural Northern Nigeria. By recognising their voices, supporting their efforts, and addressing the systemic roots of violence, we can build a future where peace is not just possible but sustainable.

Hauwa Mohammed Sani, PhD, is the Deputy Director of the Institute for Development, Research &Training at Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria. She can be reached at hauwamohammedsanim@gmail.com.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad

Nigeria’s National Security Adviser (NSA), Mallam Nuhu Ribadu, recently claimed that the country has recorded over 90% improvement in security under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration. He made this assertion in Jos, Plateau State, during a press briefing following a strategic meeting with the Commander of Operation Safe Haven, Major General Folusho Oyinlola. The meeting was convened after a deadly gunmen attack on the Bokkos community, which tragically claimed the lives of hundreds of residents.

Given the context of recent violence, Ribadu’s statement sparked mixed reactions from across the political spectrum. Critics argue that the NSA’s comments are aimed at shaping public perception as politicking for the 2027 general elections approaches. They view the remarks as part of a broader political narrative to build confidence in the administration. On the other hand, supporters commend Ribadu for leading an effective national security strategy, asserting that the improvements are tangible and worth acknowledging.

However, beyond partisan sentiments and political interests, it is essential to examine Ribadu’s claim from an objective standpoint grounded in verifiable data and realistic context. Security issues are too critical to be reduced to rhetoric, hey must be measured by real outcomes that affect the lives of everyday Nigerians.

Regardless of our political leanings, there have been undeniable improvements in some of Nigeria’s most dangerous zones. For example, the Birnin Gwari–Lagos highway in Kaduna State, which was shut for nearly a decade due to the menace of armed bandits, has now reopened to motorists, especially heavy-duty vehicles that previously avoided the route. The once-abandoned Birnin Gwari cattle market, inactive for over ten years, is now gradually returning to life with commercial activity.

Similarly, the Abuja–Kaduna highway, previously infamous for rampant kidnappings and ambushes, is now operational 24 hrs under constant military and police surveillance. Other major highways, such as the Kaduna–Kano expressway and the Jos–Akwanga–Lafia–Abuja corridor, now also witness 24-hour vehicular movement, marking a sharp contrast to the fear and hesitation that characterized travel in these areas just a few years ago.

Still, it’s important to remember that security is both delicate and dynamic. A full year of relative peace can be overshadowed by a single horrific incident. Groups like Boko Haram, ISWAP, and various bandit factions, such as the Lakurawa and Ansaru cells, still carry out attacks on soft targets in rural and semi-urban areas. While the overall frequency and scale of these attacks may be decreasing, their sporadic nature continues to pose serious challenges.

Between 2022 and 2024, several Nigerian security and intelligence agencies have reported significant gains. The Defence Intelligence Agency (DIA) indicated a 65% reduction in overall crime and criminality nationwide since May 2023. This figure is based on cumulative data from military operations, police reports, and inter-agency assessments.

The Department of State Services (DSS), particularly in the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), recorded a significant decline in high-profile crimes, including kidnappings, armed robberies, and terrorist threats, through 2023 and into early 2024.

The Nigeria Police Force also published extensive data on its security efforts: between 2023 and early 2024, police operations led to the arrest of 30,313 suspects linked to serious crimes such as kidnapping, armed robbery, cultism, and banditry. In the same period, 1,984 illegal firearms were recovered, along with 23,250 rounds of ammunition. Additionally, 1,581 kidnapped victims were successfully rescued across various states.

The proliferation of small arms and light weapons has long fueled Nigeria’s insecurity. However, between 2022 and 2024, the National Centre for the Control of Small Arms and Light Weapons (NCCSALW) recorded historic achievements. In February 2023, the Centre announced that it had recovered more than 10,000 small arms and light weapons from non-state actors during nationwide disarmament operations. By February 2024, the total number of retrieved weapons had increased to 20,000 firearms and over 60,000 units of ammunition.

Furthermore, in September 2024, the NCCSALW undertook the destruction of 30,132 recovered weapons, ranging from decommissioned and unserviceable arms to illicitly owned firearms.

The Nigerian Armed Forces, particularly the Army, have achieved notable success over the past three years. Between 2022 and 2025, military operations resulted in the neutralization of more than 8,034 terrorists across various theatres of operation, including the North-East, North-West, and North-Central regions. In February 2024 alone, 105 terrorists were eliminated during targeted counterterrorism operations. and 140 capture

A total of 6,376 kidnapped victims were rescued from insurgent enclaves and bandit hideouts in 2024 alone, thanks to joint operations involving the Army, Air Force, and local vigilante groups. These successes have contributed significantly to restoring public confidence in the state’s ability to respond to threats.

Additionally, by December 2024, the Nigerian military had dismantled numerous terrorist camps and degraded the operational capabilities of insurgent groups in several flashpoints. More than 20 high-profile bandit leaders and commanders were eliminated in precision operations, including:

 1. Ali Kachalla (Ƙawaje)

 2. Kachallah Dogo Kwaddi

 3. Lawali Dodo

 4. Ɓoderi

 5. Sani Wala-birki

 6. Kachallah Hana-Zuwa

 7. Damina

 8. Kachalla Sani Dangote

 9. Kachalla Adamu

 10. Halilu Sububu

 11. Baleri

 12. Modi Modi

 13. Kachalla Mai Shayi

 14. Kachalla Tsoho Lulu

 15. Ibrahim Nagure

 16. Kachalla Makore

 17. Bulak

 18. Tukur Sharme

 19. Hassan Ɗantawaye

 20.Ɗan-Isuhu

These names had long terrorised communities, operated illegal taxation systems, and masterminded large-scale abductions. Their deaths signal a turning point in Nigeria’s war against insecurity—at least in the short to medium term.

Critics, supporters, and objective observers alike hold valid perspectives on Ribadu’s claim. Security cannot be judged solely by statistics or isolated incidents—it must be assessed holistically, with a view to sustainability. While it would be inaccurate to declare total victory over insecurity, the data and field reports suggest that Nigeria is making measurable, strategic progress.

As Nigeria continues to grapple with complex internal threats, public expectations remain high. Citizens want not just temporary relief but long-term stability. Ribadu’s statement may be politically timed, but the figures back up his assertion, at least in terms of trend and direction. Whether or not one agrees with the 90% figure, one thing is clear: the tide appears to be gradually turning in favour of the state.

The challenge now is to sustain these gains, institutionalise reforms, and ensure that security is perceived and lived by every Nigerian in every part of the country.

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

By Haroon Aremu

No doubt, this outgoing month (March 2025) has witnessed a troubling escalation of banditry, kidnappings, and overall insecurity across Nigeria. Despite relentless efforts by security agencies, the wave of violence continues to rise, posing a severe threat to national stability. 

The series of abductions and deadly attacks in Zamfara, Niger, Imo, and Katsina states underscore the urgent need for more aggressive and strategic security measures. This trend is particularly concerning as the country enters a festive period, historically marked by heightened criminal activity.

While the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA), in collaboration with the Department of State Services (DSS) and the National Intelligence Agency (NIA), has made progress in intelligence gathering and security coordination, a more technology-driven approach is necessary. 

In the same vein, ONSA’s strategic partnerships with the Nigeria Customs Service, the National Agency for Food and Drug Administration Control (NAFDAC), and the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) in tracking illicit financial flows and curbing arms smuggling are commendable. However, dismantling criminal networks before they strike requires a more proactive and intelligence-led response.

On the other hand, the DSS has played a crucial role in safeguarding internal security throughout March, tackling numerous threats and reinforcing its commitment to national safety. However, its reputation has come under scrutiny following multiple reports of officer misconduct and press intimidation. 

For instance, a widely circulated incident in Abia State showed a DSS officer physically assaulting a police officer, raising concerns about discipline and inter-agency cooperation. Such conflicts highlight the need for structured conflict resolution mechanisms within security forces.

Another pressing issue is the DSS’s handling of journalists. While national security remains paramount, officers must operate within the boundaries of press freedom. The harassment of journalists in Abuja during the Nnamdi Kanu court proceedings and the controversial detention of a reporter in Jos have sparked concerns about press repression. In a democracy, the public’s right to access information must be upheld, and security agencies must balance national security interests with the protection of journalistic freedoms.

Despite these concerns, the DSS has taken commendable steps to defend its integrity. Major newspapers, including Punch, Blueprint, The Guardian, and Tribune, recently issued public apologies for misreporting the Lagos State Assembly invasion, reinforcing the agency’s stance against misinformation. 

However, while protecting its credibility, the DSS must ensure that its officers uphold professionalism in their interactions with the media, fostering a balanced relationship between security and press freedom.

Subsequently, the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) intensified its anti-corruption campaign throughout March, securing multiple arrests, arraignments, and asset forfeitures. The agency has cracked down on major financial crimes, exposing fraudulent schemes and recovering stolen funds. 

However, its operations have also faced criticism for alleged human rights violations. A recent raid in Lagos, which left schoolchildren stranded after EFCC operatives stormed their neighborhood, sparked national outrage. While enforcing anti-corruption laws is crucial, operations must be conducted in a way that does not unduly disrupt the lives of innocent citizens.

A growing concern is the infiltration of foreign fraud syndicates, particularly those involving Chinese and Filipino nationals, who have been implicated in elaborate financial crimes within Nigeria. The EFCC must intensify its collaboration with international anti-fraud agencies to dismantle these networks and prevent Nigeria from becoming a safe haven for global financial criminals, a concern previously raised by the EFCC chairman.

One of the most notable developments in March was the government’s decision to use recovered looted funds to finance the student loan scheme. While widely applauded, stringent accountability measures must be implemented to prevent mismanagement. As this policy offers much-needed relief to students facing financial burdens, transparency must be prioritized to avoid repeating past mistakes.

The Independent Corrupt Practices and Other Related Offences Commission (ICPC) has also been active in the fight against corruption, securing key arrests and launching several investigations into public sector fraud. Its recent probe into fraudulent procurement contracts worth billions of naira reinforces its commitment to exposing corruption at the highest levels. However, to maximize impact, the ICPC and EFCC must strengthen their partnership, ensuring a more coordinated and formidable approach to tackling corruption.

Another alarming revelation in March involved the mismanagement of public funds within government ministries, departments, and agencies (MDAs). Investigations exposed how billions meant for public projects were misappropriated, depriving citizens of critical services. While the ICPC’s swift intervention in these cases is commendable, Nigerians demand more than just arrests—they want convictions and asset recoveries that send a strong message to corrupt officials.

Notwithstanding, March 2025 has been a defining month for Nigeria’s intelligence and anti-graft agencies. As the nation moves into April, Nigerians expect these agencies to reinforce their commitments, refine their strategies, and uphold the principles of justice, transparency, and accountability. The battle against insecurity and corruption is far from over, but it must be fought with precision, fairness, and an unwavering dedication to national progress.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is an author and a fellow of PRNigeria. He wrote via exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Fatima Dauda Salihu

Nigeria is a beautiful country with diverse cultures and vibrant people. Unfortunately, insecurity has become a significant problem in recent years, causing many to live in fear and struggle to access essential services. 

Despite being culturally rich and endowed with abundant mineral resources, Nigeria struggles with insecurity primarily due to negligence by the government and its citizens. Nigeria faces insecurity challenges across all six geopolitical zones. This insecurity takes various forms, including insurgency, terrorism, communal clashes, banditry, kidnapping, and piracy, and is fuelled by deep-rooted socio-economic, ethnic, and religious tensions.

The consequences of insecurity in Nigeria are dire, leading to displacement of communities, loss of livelihoods, economic stagnation, human rights abuses, and psychological trauma.

Effective governance is critical in addressing insecurity. The government must provide leadership, resources, and policy direction to tackle insecurity. Citizens also have a vital role to play by engaging in community policing, reporting suspicious activities, and promoting tolerance. 

The private sector can also contribute by investing in security initiatives and socio-economic development projects. Civil society organisations can advocate for policy changes and community empowerment. We can restore peace, stability, and prosperity to Nigeria by working together.

Strengthening institutions and promoting good governance, investing in education, enhancing security infrastructure and capacity building, promoting community engagement and conflict resolution, and addressing socio-economic inequalities can help mitigate if not. 

In conclusion, addressing the challenge of insecurity in Nigeria requires a holistic and multifaceted approach that encompasses effective governance, community engagement, strategic coordination among security agencies, and long-term investments in education and socio-economic development.

Ultimately, Nigeria’s future depends on our collective ability to address insecurity and promote peace, stability, and development. We owe it to ourselves, our children, and future generations to take action and create a better Nigeria.

Fatima Dauda Salihu wrote from Bayero University, Kano.