Nigeria

By Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu

Nigeria has become dangerously familiar with the ritual of disaster. The warnings often come early, the forecasts are circulated, vulnerable communities are identified, and officials hold preparedness meetings. Yet when the floods finally arrive, or fire tears through crowded markets, or another preventable emergency pushes families into distress, the country still reacts with the same confusion, urgency and humanitarian panic, as though tragedy appeared without notice.

It is one of the ironies of public life in Nigeria that disasters are rarely taken seriously until they become spectacles. Before then, they exist as predictions, advisories, technical reports, stakeholder meetings and public warnings. Afterwards, they become breaking news, condolence visits, emergency relief, public anger and committee recommendations. Between those two moments lies the real weakness of the system: the stubborn national habit of knowing danger in advance but failing to prepare adequately for it.

This is the difficult terrain in which the National Emergency Management Agency, NEMA, operates. To many Nigerians, the agency is most visible in moments of distress, when flood victims need support, when displaced persons require relief, when fire victims are counting losses, or when communities suddenly discover the meaning of vulnerability. But the true measure of an emergency management institution is not only what it does after a tragedy has occurred. It is also what it can prevent, reduce, coordinate, and anticipate before the situation becomes a national emergency.

That is why the two-year stewardship of Mrs Zubaida Umar as Director General of NEMA deserves a more thoughtful reading than routine anniversary praise. When President Bola Ahmed Tinubu approved her appointment in March 2024, the expectation was not merely that another public officer would occupy another office. The assignment carried the heavier burden of strengthening operational discipline, improving coordination and repositioning the agency toward a more proactive model of emergency management. Two years later, the useful question is not whether disasters have disappeared. They have not. The real question is whether there are signs that the agency is beginning to think differently about its mandate.

Perhaps the most important development under Umar is not the kind that announces itself loudly. It is not found only in relief distribution photographs, ceremonial visits or official statements. It is evident in a gradual institutional shift from reaction to anticipation, from waiting for disaster to happen before mobilising to placing greater emphasis on preparedness, early warning communication, simulation exercises, inter-agency coordination, and community-level sensitisation.

This shift may appear modest to the casual observer, but in Nigeria’s emergency management culture, it is significant. The country’s problem has never been simply the absence of warnings. Flood forecasts are issued. Meteorological advisories are released. Hydrological risks are mapped. Vulnerable states and communities are repeatedly mentioned. Environmental experts warn against blocked drainage and settlements along waterways. Yet the same cycle continues because warnings, in themselves, do not save lives. They only become useful when they are understood, trusted and acted upon.

For years, Nigeria has struggled to convert prediction into preparedness. Communities remain in danger zones long after alerts have been issued. Drainages remain blocked despite annual warnings. Buildings continue to rise where water must naturally pass. Local structures often wait for Abuja. Citizens sometimes treat evacuation advice as government disturbance until water is already at the door. By then, emergency management becomes more expensive, more chaotic and more painful.

It is within this context that NEMA’s renewed attention to grassroots sensitisation becomes important. Across several states, the agency has intensified preparedness campaigns aimed at reducing the gap between forecast and response. One of the more telling examples was the flood preparedness campaign in Ebonyi State, where the engagement moved beyond formal speeches and stakeholder protocols into direct community interaction. Emergency officials went into vulnerable communities, spoke in local languages, distributed safety information, and discussed flood risks, evacuation culture, and prevention measures with residents.

That may look ordinary on paper, but it carries a deeper meaning. A warning trapped inside a technical report is not yet a warning. A forecast discussed only in Abuja has not fully served the woman whose house sits near a riverbank, the farmer whose farmland will be submerged, the school head who must protect pupils, or the local leader whose community may need to move before danger arrives. Disaster communication becomes meaningful only when it reaches ordinary people in the language of their daily reality.

This is one of the most important lessons Nigeria must learn. Preparedness is not achieved by issuing statements alone. It requires translation, persuasion, repetition and trust. It requires taking risk information from conference halls to communities, from policy language to household action, from official alerts to behavioural change. In that sense, public communication is not an accessory to emergency management; it is one of its strongest instruments.

The same logic applies to coordination. Disasters do not respect institutional boundaries. A flood is not only a NEMA issue. It is an environmental issue, an urban planning issue, a housing issue, a public health issue, a food security issue, a security issue and, quite often, a governance issue. When water overruns a community, it affects homes, roads, schools, markets, farmlands, hospitals and livelihoods at the same time. No single institution can carry that burden alone.

This is why the increasing emphasis on multi-sectoral coordination under the current leadership is notable. The agency’s engagements with ministries, departments and agencies, state emergency structures, security agencies, humanitarian partners and technical institutions suggest a clearer understanding that NEMA’s strength lies not in behaving like a lone responder, but in making the wider emergency management ecosystem function better. In a federal system where fragmentation often weakens public response, that coordinating role is not a small matter.

There is also a growing recognition that modern emergency management must be more technical than sentimental. It must be driven by data, monitoring, logistics planning, early warning systems, communication flow and rapid decision-making. This explains the growing relevance of structures such as the National Emergency Operation Centre, which serves as the command-and-coordination infrastructure required for monitoring and responding to serious disasters. Such systems may not excite the public in the way dramatic rescue scenes do, but they are central to the quiet work of preventing confusion before it becomes costly.

Simulation exercises also belong to this quieter but more serious side of emergency management. Nigeria has never been poor in policy documents; the problem has often been what happens when real pressure arrives. Preparedness drills help institutions identify their weaknesses before a disaster exposes them. In an emergency, questions that look simple in a meeting can become decisive on the field. Who leads the evacuation? Who communicates verified information? Who coordinates medical response? Who controls movement? Who protects children, women, older persons and persons with disabilities? Who documents needs and prevents duplication? The difference between order and confusion often lies in whether such questions were answered before the crisis.

The increased emphasis on rehearsals, simulations, and preparedness drills, therefore, suggests an agency seeking to move from theoretical to practical readiness. The process may be gradual, but the direction is important. A country that waits for every disaster to teach it the same lesson again has not taken preparedness seriously.

The wider humanitarian environment also makes this change unavoidable. Flooding remains one of Nigeria’s most devastating recurring threats, but it is not the only one. Urban fires, tanker explosions, building collapses, communal displacement, food insecurity, climate shocks and other emergencies have expanded the meaning of vulnerability across the country. A serious emergency management institution can no longer think narrowly or seasonally. It must understand how climate, poverty, infrastructure failure, insecurity, public behaviour and weak local governance combine to create disasters.

This broader thinking is beginning to reflect in NEMA’s engagement with issues such as food security, climate vulnerability and community resilience. That is an important evolution. In today’s Nigeria, food insecurity is not merely an agricultural concern. Floods destroy farms. Conflict displaces farming communities. Climate shocks weaken harvests. Poor roads and insecurity disrupt supply. Once these pressures converge, they become humanitarian problems. Emergency management in the 21st century is therefore not simply about distributing rice, mattresses and blankets after tragedy. It is about understanding risk before it matures into a crisis.

Still, any honest assessment must avoid the temptation of easy celebration. Nigeria’s emergency management architecture remains burdened by serious structural weaknesses. Many state emergency management agencies are still underfunded or poorly equipped. Local emergency management committees are inactive in many places. Urban planning violations continue with impunity. Floodplains are still occupied. Drainage systems remain poor across several cities. Citizens still ignore warnings. State and local authorities too often treat disaster preparedness as a seasonal ritual rather than a governance responsibility.

These are not problems one Director General can solve alone, and it would be unfair to pretend otherwise. But leadership matters because it sets institutional tone. It determines whether preparedness becomes a culture or remains a slogan. It influences whether an agency merely reacts to tragedy or begins to organise itself around prevention, anticipation and coordinated readiness. It shapes whether the system waits for sympathy after loss or pushes harder for discipline before loss.

It is not a transformation that should be overstated. Floods have not stopped. Fire outbreaks have not disappeared. Communities still suffer avoidable losses. Operational gaps still exist. But there are visible indications that the agency is increasingly speaking, and slowly institutionalising, the language of preparedness, coordination, public education and anticipatory action. In a country where public institutions often confuse activity with progress, even this shift in emphasis is worth noting.

Some achievements in public service are loud because they are visible. Others are valuable because they prevent losses that the public may never fully count. A community that evacuates early may never become headline news. A market that takes fire safety seriously may never trend online. A state that prepares before floodwater rises may not attract national attention. Yet these quiet outcomes are often the real victories of emergency management.

As Nigeria moves through another season of environmental uncertainty and humanitarian pressure, emergency management must no longer remain an afterthought, activated only after tragedy strikes. State governments must strengthen their emergency agencies. Local governments must revive community response structures. Traditional and religious leaders must help translate warnings into action. Citizens must stop treating risk alerts as routine government grammar. The media must give preparedness the same urgency it gives to disasters.

Two years into Zubaida Umar’s leadership, the agency appears to be attempting something important: the slow rebuilding of a preparedness culture in a country too accustomed to panic after warning signs have been ignored. It is an unfinished journey, certainly. But it is also a meaningful one.

Nigeria may never fully escape disasters. No country does. But stronger institutions can prevent familiar hazards from repeatedly becoming national tragedies. That, ultimately, is the real test of emergency management, and perhaps the quiet significance of the institutional shift now taking place at NEMA.

Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu is a journalist and syndicated writer based in Abuja.

By Maimuna Katuka Aliyu

Hepatitis, a medical condition characterised by inflammation of the liver, remains one of the most significant yet underestimated public health crises in Nigeria. The liver is a vital organ responsible for essential bodily functions, including detoxifying harmful substances, metabolising nutrients, storing energy, and producing proteins necessary for blood clotting. 

While hepatitis can stem from excessive alcohol consumption, toxin exposure, certain medications, or autoimmune diseases, viral infections represent the most prevalent and dangerous form of the disease both globally and domestically.

There are five primary strains of viral hepatitis: A, B, C, D, and E. Each is triggered by a distinct virus and varies in transmission mode, severity, and treatment options.

Hepatitis A and E are typically waterborne, spreading through contaminated food and water in areas plagued by poor sanitation. Conversely, Hepatitis B, C, and D are bloodborne pathogens. They spread primarily through contact with infected body fluids, unprotected sexual contact, the sharing of sharp objects, unsafe medical procedures, and mother-to-child transmission during childbirth.

The insidious nature of hepatitis lies in its symptoms or lack thereof. Many infected individuals remain entirely asymptomatic during the early stages. When symptoms do surface, they often mimic general illness, such as fever, fatigue, loss of appetite, nausea, abdominal pain, dark urine, and jaundice (the yellowing of the skin and eyes).

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), viral hepatitis is a leading infectious cause of death worldwide, claiming approximately 1.3 million lives each year. Strains B and C are particularly dangerous because they can progress to chronic, silent infections that gradually destroy the liver over decades, leading to cirrhosis, liver failure, or liver cancer.

In Nigeria, the scale of this silent epidemic is staggering. The Federal Ministry of Health and Social Welfare revealed that more than 20 million Nigerians are living with viral hepatitis, with Hepatitis B affecting roughly 18.2 million people and Hepatitis C affecting about 2.5 million. Hepatitis B stands as the most widespread strain in the country. 

Fortunately, a highly effective vaccine exists. The WHO strongly advocates that all infants receive this vaccine within 24 hours of birth as part of routine childhood immunisation.

For Hepatitis C, there is currently no vaccine, but modern antiviral medications boast a cure rate of over 95 per cent if the infection is detected early. Meanwhile, Hepatitis D presents a unique threat as a “satellite virus” that can only replicate in individuals already infected with Hepatitis B, a co-infection that drastically increases the severity of liver disease.

To combat this burden, the Federal Government has aligned with the WHO global target to eliminate viral hepatitis as a public health threat by 2030. Central to Nigeria’s strategy is Project 365, a nationwide elimination campaign designed to scale up public awareness, screening, and treatment services while integrating hepatitis care directly into primary healthcare systems. 

This initiative is heavily supported by the Nigeria Centre for Disease Control and Prevention (NCDC) through enhanced disease surveillance, outbreak response, and the enforcement of infection control practices across medical facilities.

Ultimately, turning the tide against this hidden killer requires a shift from reactive medicine to proactive prevention. On an individual level, protection involves getting vaccinated against Hepatitis B, avoiding the sharing of personal sharp items, practising safe sex, and demanding screened blood products during transfusions.

With sustained government commitment to expanding affordable diagnostic tools, paired with a public willing to break the silence and get tested, Nigeria can move closer to a future where viral hepatitis is no longer a shadow over national health.

Maimuna Katuka Aliyu can be reached via munat815@gmail.com.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

The Department of State Services (DSS) has reportedly released a Kaduna farmer who was detained over alleged links to Boko Haram after an internal investigation found no evidence against him.

The man, identified as Nura Idris, is a farmer and herder from Soba Local Government Area of Kaduna State. Security sources said the DSS also paid him N3 million as compensation after his release.

Reports indicated that Idris was arrested in Suleja, Niger State, in June 2024 by another security agency over terrorism-related allegations before he was transferred to DSS custody.

Sources familiar with the matter said the Director-General of the DSS, Oluwatosin Ajayi, approved his release after an internal review panel examined the case.

“Following a thorough review of Nura’s case, the DSS investigation panel found no basis for the charges against him, prompting the DGSS to order his immediate release and payment of compensation,” one source said.

The agency was also said to have pledged additional support to help Idris rebuild his livestock business as part of efforts to assist his return to normal life.

Another source explained that the DSS usually provides medical, psychological and reintegration support to individuals cleared after investigations.

“When such cases are recorded, the DSS would usually follow up with the detainee, provide psychological and medical support, after which the agency would further set up any business of the victim’s choice,” the source added.

Idris reportedly expressed gratitude to the DSS leadership after receiving the compensation. His father, Yusuf Idris, also thanked the agency for the support provided to his son.

The development is believed to be part of a wider internal review process by the DSS aimed at reassessing prolonged detention cases and ensuring that innocent individuals are not held unjustly over terrorism allegations.

By Haroon Aremu 

In recent days, I have watched a growing wave of messages urging Nigerians to collect their Permanent Voter Cards (PVCs) before the deadline. Everywhere I turned, there were reminders, appeals, and passionate campaigns encouraging citizens to obtain their voter cards and prepare to vote. Some messages urged people to “vote out bad leaders,” while others called on Nigerians to “vote for change” and “take back their country.”

As I read these messages, I found myself reflecting deeply. Rather than joining the chorus immediately, I paused and asked a question that many of us seem reluctant to confront. What makes us so certain that the person we are urging people to vote for today will not become the same person we criticise, condemn, and perhaps even curse tomorrow?

This question is not intended to discourage voting, but is mainly directed to the youth rather than others. Democracy thrives when citizens participate. Every eligible Nigerian should obtain a PVC and exercise their constitutional right to vote. However, voting without deeper reflection may only lead us into a cycle we have repeated for decades.

The reality is that many of the leaders Nigerians complain about today were once celebrated as political messiahs. At one point or another, they were symbols of hope. They made promises that inspired confidence. They convinced millions that they possessed the solutions to the nation’s problems. Their supporters defended them passionately and often believed that once they assumed office, prosperity, security, and development would naturally follow.

Yet, as time passed, many of those same leaders became subjects of disappointment. The expectations that accompanied their emergence gradually gave way to frustration. Citizens who once praised them began to criticise them. 

This pattern raises an uncomfortable but necessary question. Is Nigeria’s problem merely about replacing one leader with another, or is it deeper than that?

Election seasons often resemble a search for a political saviour. Every cycle produces a new candidate who is presented as the answer to the nation’s challenges. Supporters speak about them with almost religious conviction. Opponents are dismissed, while supporters insist that their preferred candidate possesses the vision, courage, and competence needed to rescue the country. However, once the realities of governance emerge, many leaders themselves begin to admit that the challenges they inherited were greater than they anticipated.

How many times have Nigerians heard leaders say, “We didn’t know the situation was this bad”? How many administrations have entered office with grand promises only to later explain why those promises could not be fulfilled? If this pattern keeps repeating itself across different administrations, perhaps the issue is larger than individual politicians.

As an analyst of human behaviour and societal trends, I have come to believe that leadership is often a reflection of the society from which it emerges. We frequently focus on the leaders at the top while ignoring the conduct of the people at the bottom. We condemn corruption in high offices while celebrating dishonesty in everyday life. We criticise politicians for abusing power while remaining silent when similar abuses occur in our communities, workplaces, institutions, and associations.

The truth is that leadership challenges are visible at every level of society. From class captains in schools to community leaders, from local associations to religious organisations, from traditional institutions to political structures, the same tendencies recur. Favouritism, greed, selfishness, abuse of authority, and lack of accountability are not problems exclusive to national leaders. They are societal problems that manifest differently at different levels.

This observation reminds me of a profound principle found in both the Bible and the Qur’an. In the Qur’an, Surah Ar-Ra’d 13:11 states that Allah will not change the condition of a people until they change what is within themselves. Similarly, the Bible in Proverbs 29:2 says

When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice: but when the wicked beareth rule, the people mourn.”

. These teachings suggest that national transformation is not solely dependent on political leadership. It is also connected to the values, character, and behaviour of citizens.

Perhaps this explains why changing leaders alone has not always produced the transformation Nigerians desire. A society cannot continuously reward negative values and expect positive outcomes from those it elects. If selfishness, dishonesty, and corruption become normalised among citizens, it becomes increasingly difficult to expect public officials to behave differently once they attain power.

This does not mean leaders are not important. Leadership matters. Policies matter. Governance matters. Elections matter. However, believing that a single individual can solve every national challenge may be one of the greatest misconceptions in modern politics.

 Some of the world’s most developed countries are struggling with challenges that cannot be solved overnight by a single leader.

Nigeria’s problems are complex. They require visionary leadership, yes, but they also require responsible citizenship, strong institutions, accountability, productivity, innovation, and a cultural shift in how people relate to one another and to the nation.

Therefore, while I fully support the call for Nigerians to obtain their PVCs, I believe the conversation should go beyond voting. The more important question is what happens after the election. Are we willing to demand integrity from ourselves as much as we demand it from politicians? Are we prepared to contribute positively to our communities, workplaces, and institutions?

Most importantly, before passionately campaigning for a candidate, perhaps each of us should ask a simple question: if this person eventually wins and fails to meet expectations, will I become one of those criticising them tomorrow?

If the answer is yes, then perhaps our focus should not be solely on changing leaders. Perhaps it should also be about changing ourselves.

Haroon Aremu Abiodun is a developmental journalist who writes from Abuja and can be reached via exponentumera@gmail.com.

By Saifullahi Attahir

In our class of 76 MBBS students, about 25 are from Jigawa State, while 51 (68 per cent) are from outside the state, which is a common admission criterion at a public federal university in Nigeria. An appreciable proportion of those 68 per cent have transitioned through private education at either nursery, primary, or secondary level.

Even among the 25 students from Jigawa State, another proportion had the privilege of a private education at either the nursery, primary, or secondary level. Among those who attended only public schools, a large share came from the ultra-top 5 public schools in the state: Academy for the Gifted and Talented Bamaina, Science Secondary School Kafin-Hausa and Gumel, Dutse Model International, Government Girls Secondary School Jahun, and Taura.

These ultra-top public schools have an entirely different educational model and standards. Entry requires a special Common Entrance Examination. They were referred to as Science Board Schools, a replica of the two famous Dawaki’s (Dawakin Kudu/Dawakin Tofa). Their standards were levelled with those of the private schools, with special tutors rotated amongst themselves and better living conditions enabling study.

From this survey, you can conclude the role that private schools played in producing the right candidates for high-demand university courses in Nigeria, like Medicine, Engineering, and Law, where public schools are no longer capable of filling the gap. If you were not fortunate enough to be from those private or model public schools, your chances of scaling through to read high-demand courses are very low.

In such exotic professions, people coming from my type of public secondary school (Government College Birninkudu) are the 1 per cent. Even for that 1 per cent chance, I had to spend more than 7 years reconstructing and rediscovering, and finally, with God’s assistance, I got a chance. It’s very difficult to get direct admission right from secondary school. This is not just my story, but the story of thousands from those types of public institutions.

In my graduation year 2009, out of a population of more than 1,000 students, only 2 got admission to read MBBS, and less than 15 got direct university admission that year. Not more than 30 have got into professional courses like Engineering, Accounting, Quantity Surveying, Pharmacy, Software Engineering, or Law to date.

The question is: what is the fate of other students from more than a hundred other public secondary schools who were not fortunate enough to secure admission into the top universities across the country? They ended up giving up studying or taking courses that do not directly contribute to their individual or national economic growth.

This trend is similar in 2009 as in 2026, and similar across the entire country. Students ended up studying courses they neither willingly chose nor enjoyed. The end result is a waste of talent, for there is no way you can be outstanding in any work or field that you lack passion for. The fault was not entirely theirs, for they love to study, but were either bereft of the orientation, skills, and adequate knowledge to compete amongst their peers from private schools during university entrance examinations.

The difference lies not just in the disparity in financing efforts but in the commitment rendered. Some public schools receive more funding than many private institutions, including for staff salaries, overhead, and staffing levels. But still, that will not amount to any significant change. The majority of the ruling class have their children in private schools, so it’s easy to understand the lack of commitment.

The system barely rewards excellence. Hardworking and brilliant teachers who further their studies to earn a Master’s or PhD never return; instead, they search for other high-paying jobs. These were automatically replaced by less deserving teachers or teachers without the same energy and enthusiasm, hence the continuous drop in teaching standards.

Most of those students are hardworking and willing to escape the poverty surrounding them. But hard work is not enough here; they need a compass, direction, and tools, which were mostly absent or inadequate in those public-run facilities.

The cancer is not just in secondary school education. The problems of our tertiary institutions are mostly their failure to translate the knowledge imparted into direct national development. Some institutions are more consumers than producers. Graduates should be equipped with the right skills to become productive members of their societies.

Graduates ending up taking jobs that even their peers who have not attended any college were not doing is quite frightening. That only leads to a more derogatory view of the system and the ongoing boycott and out-of-school population.

So many courses are now obsolete and have no relevance to the fast-changing world labour market. Even the so-called professional courses are now taught in such an old-fashioned manner that, immediately after graduation, students lose their relevance and become confused.

The courses should be taught in a way that reflects the current situation of the world. We should move with technology. We need to move fast to keep up with this dynamic generation. While paper and pencils are still relevant to us, the world has long moved on to Artificial Intelligence (AI), wireless, cloud computing, virtual reality, and genomics.

I still wonder why universities as large as Ahmadu Bello University, Zaria; University of Lagos; University of Ibadan; and University of Nigeria, Nsukka, with large student populations and billions in government allocations, are still spending millions to generate electricity despite having established faculties of engineering, renowned professors, and brilliant students.

We produce thousands of graduates in Agriculture, some with first-class grades, but rest assured, any GMO crops with high yield potential seen in this country must have come from either Brazil, Argentina, Thailand, China, or the US.

This is a story of first-generation universities, let alone the third-generation universities, state-owned colleges, and polytechnics.

We should have a national priority, as in India, where the majority of students pursue degrees in Engineering, Computer Science, or Medicine/Pharmacy. That’s the only way to rapid economic growth. Subsidies, stipends, and scholarships should be attached to those courses to attract youth.

In Nigeria, we should prioritise Engineering, Computer Science, and Agriculture more than Medicine and Law degrees. Production and creativity are the only solutions to our poverty and alarming population growth. I’m not advocating a total boycott of other courses, but there must be a target in which a large number of candidates are required to read certain disciplines.

The reason I prioritise Engineering over Medicine is the entitlement mentality many Nigerians have, who end up studying medical courses just for the ready-made job opportunity, without the passion or vision to contribute to national development.

Producing more doctors may not guarantee a rise in national gross domestic product (GDP), but surely a country with more productive engineers will see increased production, lower unemployment, lower crime rates, greater well-being, less malnutrition, and even fewer diseases.

China and Russia are living examples of the wonders engineering can do for a country. I’m not promoting any profession over another; I’m talking about national economic growth, numbers, and productivity index.

Some parts of this country already understand this crucial reality. Looking at the Joint Admissions and Matriculation Board (JAMB) results for the past 5 years, the top-scoring candidates with scores above 320 from the South West and South East of this country were mostly from private schools. The most striking fact was that 95 per cent were applying to read Software Engineering or Mechatronics at the University of Lagos or the University of Ibadan, not the usual MBBS or Pharmacy. That’s the future now!

The most devastating fact is that Arewa (Northern Nigeria) is still battling out-of-school children. Even those in school are better off not being there, for the majority of the students memorised more names of Hausa movie actresses and season films than the Chemistry Periodic Table or quadratic equations!

However, when the poverty index spots us, we start shouting marginalisation and all sorts of victimisation excuses. You can’t grow while continually shifting blame or expecting a change from outside yourself. We need rigorous introspection.

It’s not all without hope. Some examples highlight the feasibility of improving the system. States like Yobe will produce wonders in the next 25 years.

 Their consistently sound educational policies have already begun to yield positive outcomes. Other willing states in the country, especially in the North, should copy similar approaches. Their approach to sponsoring brilliant young minds to prestigious colleges and other key interventions is quite rewarding in the long term.

Saifullahi Attahir is the President of the National Association of Jigawa State Medical Students (NAJIMS), the National Body. He writes from Federal University Dutse, wrote via saifullahiattahir93@gmail.com.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

A video showing suspected bandits displaying large amounts of cash believed to have been obtained from kidnapping ransom payments has surfaced online.

The footage appeared on social media on Saturday and has triggered fresh concerns about insecurity and abductions across parts of Nigeria.

The video was shared by Bakatsine, a journalist known for reporting security issues and conflicts in the North-West region.

Posting the clip on his X account, he wrote: “This video shows bandits flaunting money obtained through ransom payments. May Allah bring an end to this tragedy and grant Nigeria lasting peace.”

Kidnapping for ransom has remained a major security challenge in several parts of the country, especially in the North-West and parts of the North-Central region.

Armed groups have continued to attack communities, travellers, farmers and schools despite ongoing military operations against criminal gangs.

Several states across the country still record cases of abduction and violent attacks linked to banditry.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

The Federal University Birnin Kebbi (FUBK) has dismissed its Director of Information and Communication Technology (ICT), Isah Yusuf Tsafe, over allegations of misconduct and negligence.

The university’s Governing Council announced the decision after disciplinary proceedings found the former ICT director guilty of gross misconduct, negligence and failure to account for university property under his supervision.

The development was contained in a statement issued by the institution’s Head of Information and Public Relations, Jamilu Magaji.

According to the statement, the council approved Tsafe’s dismissal after reviewing findings from the disciplinary process.

The university also sanctioned another ICT staff member, Abdullahi Mohammed Adamu, over activities linked to the admission process.

FUBK said Adamu was reduced by one grade level and would not be eligible for promotion for the next 5 years.

The institution accused him of carrying out financial dealings with parents of admission seekers despite not being part of the university’s admissions team.

The statement explained that Adamu also became involved in admission-related activities without authorisation from the university.

“The Council also directed the university management to recover or surcharge the value of all outstanding university property linked to the case,” the statement said.

The university stated that the disciplinary actions reflected the Governing Council’s resolve to maintain discipline, professionalism and accountability in the institution’s administration.

According to the statement, the council remains committed to ensuring responsible conduct and merit-based operations across the university system.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

United States President Donald Trump has claimed that recent American military operations in Nigeria helped reduce attacks against Christian communities by terrorist groups.

Trump made the remarks during a live event on Saturday monitored by SaharaReporters. He said the U.S. military carried out heavy strikes against terrorists accused of attacking Christian populations in Nigeria.

“As you know, we recently struck Nigeria and largely ended the slaughter of great Christian populations,” Trump said.

The American president alleged that before the operation, thousands of Christians, including women, children and elderly people, had lost their lives in attacks.

“They have a great Christian population that were being butchered. Butchered. Thousands and thousands who were being killed — children, women, old people just being slaughtered, hacked to death,” he stated.

Trump said the strikes weakened the terrorists and forced them to pull back because of fears of stronger military action from the United States.

“They know that if they go further, the attack will be far greater and they don’t want to really get involved anymore so much,” Trump claimed.

He further stated that American forces killed senior leaders of the group during the operation.

“You know, we hit them very hard. We knocked out their leader, we knocked out their second leader, and their third leader,” he said.

Trump compared the Nigeria operation to recent American actions against Iran. He insisted that Washington would continue using force against threats it considers dangerous.

“Sounds a little bit like Iran actually. That’s all about the different cause we have to do because we cannot let Iran have a nuclear weapon. Can’t let it happen,” he said.

The U.S. president said protecting Christians formed part of his administration’s foreign policy priorities.

“So I’m saving Christians throughout the world even though we are not in those various countries where you read about,” Trump said.

He also warned that extremist ideologies abroad could eventually threaten the United States if they are not confronted.

“They would like to make our country just like those countries. That’s where they started. They started it right where we are right now,” he said.

Trump added that his administration would continue targeting terrorist leaders across the world.

“I’m saving them by hitting these terrorists very violently and very hard. We are hitting them very hard by the greatest weapons on earth, taking them out. We know where they are and we hunt them down and we take them out,” he stated.

Describing attacks on rural communities, Trump said, “Think of that, they go into a village and just kill everybody. It’s crazy.”

He also linked terrorism to what he described as threats against religious freedom.

“They will close your churches in this country. They go Communist and they’re trying to. They will kill your people. And that’s what they’re about. They want to end religion,” he added.

Trump, however, did not disclose the exact locations of the alleged military strikes in Nigeria or identify the terrorist organisation involved.

Meanwhile, SaharaReporters reported on Friday that the United States reaffirmed its commitment to strengthening defence cooperation with Nigeria in the fight against terrorism and insurgency.

The assurance came during a visit by the Commander of the United States Special Operations Command Africa (SOCAFRICA), Major General Claude Tudor, to the Headquarters of Operation HADIN KAI in Maiduguri, Borno State.

Military authorities said the visit focused on improving existing security cooperation and strategic partnership between Nigeria and the United States.

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

Management authorities have ordered the immediate expulsion of Gombawa Motors Nigeria Limited from the Ibrahim Dankwambo Mega Park in Gombe State, citing persistent violations of park regulations and multiple complaints from fellow operators.

In a formal notice issued on Thursday, Principal Facilities Management Limited, the park’s managing firm, informed the automobile company that its continued operations within the facility had become untenable. The decision, backed by a resolution from the park’s Oversight Committee dated June 25, 2026, follows a broader restructuring and realignment exercise conducted with stakeholders in November 2025.

According to the eviction letter, Gombawa Motors repeatedly flouted agreed-upon operational rules, disregarded established procedures, and failed to adhere to the framework designed to maintain order and fairness in the park. The management noted that these infractions had drawn significant complaints from other businesses operating within the premises.

Consequently, the company has been given 24 hours from receipt of the notice to vacate the park entirely. Officials stated that the measure was necessary to protect the peaceful and efficient functioning of the facility.

The directive has been copied to key state authorities, including the Gombe Revenue Optimization Company (GROCOL), the Oversight Committee chairman, the Commissioner of Police, the Department of State Security Services, and the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps, signaling potential enforcement action if the company fails to comply.

By Sabiu Abdullahi

A Kaduna-based mechanic, Aliyu Muhammed, has accused police officers of handing his wife, Ummulkhairi Muhammed, over to an angry mob that allegedly lynched and burnt her to death after accusations of child trafficking.

Muhammed, 42, said the incident happened in Mararaban Jos area of Igabi Local Government Area of Kaduna State after his wife was accused by some women of attempting to traffic children.

Speaking about the incident, he explained that his wife left home on the day of the attack for an Islamiya school in a neighbouring community while he travelled to Kaduna town for work.

According to him, he later received a call from his wife’s phone around 11:21 a.m., but a man answered and informed him that she had been accused of attempted child trafficking.

“He told me that some women had accused her of attempting to traffic children but added that it was only an allegation that had not been confirmed,” Muhammed said.

He said the caller asked him to contact someone who could quickly reach the location where his wife was being held. Muhammed said he immediately contacted a friend, Suleiman, who later informed him that a large crowd had gathered at the scene.

The mechanic said his friend contacted the Divisional Police Officer and requested security officers to move his wife safely to a police station.

Muhammed explained that he informed family members and rushed back to Mararaban Jos with his elder brother after receiving the distress call.

He said while approaching the area, he noticed smoke rising from a distance before receiving another call from his second wife.

“Shortly afterwards, my second wife, who was crying, called me and told me they had killed her,” he said.

According to him, residents stopped him from rushing to the scene because they feared the mob might attack him as well if they discovered he was the victim’s husband.

He said he later saw his wife’s burnt body on the road after the Commissioner of Police arrived at the scene.

Muhammed alleged that his wife had earlier been rescued and taken to a police station before officers allegedly released her to the mob.

“My elder sister was with my wife at the police station after she was rescued. While they were inside the station, the Divisional Police Officer came in and asked where the suspect was. My sister replied that my wife was not a criminal,” he said.

He further alleged that the DPO dragged his wife out of the station despite pleas from family members.

“The DPO held my wife’s hand and started dragging her towards the station gate. My sister asked where he was taking her and pleaded with him not to take her outside because the mob would kill her,” he stated.

“She tried to pull my wife back into the station, but another police officer allegedly struck her hand, allowing the DPO to drag her outside. Once my wife was pushed outside by the DPO, the mob descended on her, beat her, placed her motorcycle on top of her, and set both her and the motorcycle ablaze.”

The grieving husband said the tragedy has left his family devastated, especially their four children who lost their mother.

“Since that incident, I have not been myself. I have been sick. I hardly sleep because I keep thinking about what happened and crying over the tragedy that has befallen my family,” he said.

He added that he was unable to speak with the Commissioner of Police at the scene because of the emotional trauma.

“Neither the Commissioner of Police nor the DPO spoke to me. The police only provided two vehicles to convey my wife’s body for burial,” he added.

Muhammed also claimed that some suspects had been arrested in connection with the incident, although he had not received official confirmation from the authorities.

“I heard that about 22 people are in custody, but I have not been officially informed or shown those who were arrested,” he said.

The mechanic demanded a full investigation into the role played by the DPO and questioned why his wife was allegedly released to the mob after she had already been rescued.

“I want the DPO to be thoroughly investigated. Even if my wife had been guilty of the allegation against her, does the law permit a police officer to drag her outside and allow a mob to kill her?” he asked.

He also urged the public to avoid jungle justice and allow security agencies and courts to handle criminal allegations through due process.

“The public should learn that when someone is accused of an offence, people have no right to take the law into their own hands,” he said.

Muhammed said he wants his late wife to be remembered for her care for her children and peaceful relationship with members of the community.

“I also want the Mararaban Jos Bridge to be renamed in her honour. That would preserve her memory and serve as a reminder to future generations of what happened to her when she was only 35 years old,” he added.