Northern Nigeria

By Suleiman Usman Yusuf 

Right now, I am deeply pained and genuinely confused, perhaps like many other well-meaning Nigerians who still believe this country can rise above its failures. If all I have to offer is my voice and my pen, then I will continue writing about Nigeria’s lingering security crisis until my last strength fades. Silence is no longer an option when the nation is bleeding this profusely.

This country is bruised. Every week, the news reminds us that Nigeria is fighting for its own life, not in theory but in blood and dust. Yet we move on too quickly, as if these tragedies belong to someone else.

The death of Brigadier General M. Uba should stop us in our tracks.

Not just because he was a senior officer. Not because his story is more important than the stories of countless others who fell before him. But because his final hours reveal both the extraordinary courage of the men defending this country and the painful weaknesses of the institutions meant to protect them.

Two days ago, Nigerians were told he was alive and safe. Today, the truth arrived from insurgent propaganda channels rather than from the State he served. That alone should trouble every citizen who still believes this country can be redeemed.

But beyond the misinformation, beyond the chaos of battle and the failures of communication, there was a man. A man who fought through one ambush, shielded his men, and kept talking on the radio even as danger closed in from every direction. A man who understood the terrain, the risks, and the meaning of service in a way many of us never will.

His killers did not find him by magic. They found him because insurgent groups in the North-East have evolved into highly adaptive, intelligence-driven networks. They have spotters, informants, trackers, and a familiarity with the terrain that gives them dangerous advantages. Our troops face that reality every day with limited resources and uneven institutional support. Yet they still go out, still patrol, still hold their ground.

Brigadier General Uba died in uniform, under a harsh Borno sky, in the service of a country that has not yet learned how to protect its defenders fully. His death is not just a battlefield loss. It is a national failure.

But this is where our story must change.

Nigeria cannot survive if we continue pretending that insecurity is a Northern problem, or a Christian problem, or a Muslim problem, or a regional competition in suffering. Nigeria is bleeding in too many places for that false comfort.

This is a Nigerian problem. All of us are inside this fire.

If we want to save this country, we must begin by admitting the truth.

We have an overburdened military fighting a war that politicians treat like background noise. We have intelligence agencies that do not always speak to each other. We have a society more invested in ethnic debates than national survival. We have families quietly burying soldiers while the rest of us argue online. We have institutions that hide failures rather than learn from them.

But we also have something else. We have citizens who still believe in Nigeria. We have communities ready to cooperate when trust is restored. We have young officers and men who refuse to give up on this country, even when this country sometimes gives up on them. We have people like Brigadier General Uba, whose courage reminds us of the Nigeria that is still possible.

If his death is to mean anything, it must push us toward a national rebuilding rooted in truth, accountability, and collective responsibility. It must force us to demand better communication protocols, better extraction procedures, better intelligence coordination, and better welfare for every man and woman who carries a rifle for this country.

Saving Nigeria is not a slogan. It is a long, disciplined, painful process that requires leadership, honesty, citizen cooperation, and institutional courage.

Brigadier General Uba has paid his share in full. The account is now with us.

Suleiman Usman Yusuf, a Governance, Security, and Development Consultant, AI Policy and Governance Advocate, and a Shaper of Africa’s Tech Future, wrote via suleimanusmanbac@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Isyaku Malumfashi

There are people within this government who support negotiations with bandits, and this piece aims to address them. I wrote against former Governor Masari’s governance when he had negotiated with bandits in an article published by The Daily Reality newspaper, titled “How Governor Masari is Wrongly Governing Katsina State.” I’m doing the same to refute any move to negotiate with bandits at the expense of the government’s power.

Meanwhile, apart from the government’s “data boys,” the problem we now have is the “negotiation lawyers” who protect the government from criticism of negotiating with terrorists. As I have been saying, it is a failure of the government to negotiate with terrorists.

Not only I, but many security experts have opined that negotiating with bandits is futile. In fact, the governor himself, Dr Dikko Umaru Radda, admitted during a call-in interview with Channels Television that he wouldn’t negotiate with bandits at their weakest point. We all applauded, as they have no justifiable reason for their actions and hence no grievances to present to the government for it to listen to. They should either surrender and cease fire, or the government should use force to wipe them out.

We’ve seen many such negotiations with bandits in both the previous administration and the present that have not borne fruit. Perhaps the Fulani terrorists breached the truce by breaking the agreement, thereby continuing to commit crimes against innocent citizens. 

The biggest problem is that they will come into town with weapons, as we’ve seen in the Kankara Local Government area, until people become accustomed to seeing them. Then, some will start to befriend them, so they, too, can get the opportunity to handle weapons. Thus, the country might become like Libya – God forbid – where arms became available to citizens as a result of government carelessness in the name of self-defence, and subsequently turns into a lawless state.

Because in Libya today, one with more sophisticated arms is the most feared and powerful being, just like a government. They can do and undo as they want. Nigeria, particularly Arewa, might face a similar fate, but I believe God will embarrass them. The worst thing about this negotiation is that even if there is negotiation, these Fulani bandits won’t take up any job that will earn them money. Instead, they’ll move to another town where there’s no security problem and continue their terrorist activities. If there’s another negotiation, they’ll move forward.

They wanted to pursue an agenda of conquest with great force, as in the 1804 Jihad. I know historians among us will relate better, though I’m not one; I’m a history enthusiast and studied it in secondary school. Thus, we’re not ignorant of the past. If we don’t forget, those Fulani bandits camped at the Kankara forest under the notorious bandit leader Babaru, aka, had to negotiate with the people of Yar Goje town, before they could target some villages.

Then, they got the opportunity to attack the Mantau village in Malumfashi, where they killed many worshippers during dawn prayers in the mosque and thereafter kidnapped many residents and took them to their camps. Although they later released them, the government claimed the release was due to a firefight with troops, but Zuma Times reported the opposite. We believe the latter, as the government didn’t present any evidence of casualties.

The Mantau village has been a headache for the bandits for years. They’re well-prepared and gallant, and on many occasions, they’ve hidden at routes where bandits pass by to attack and kill them. The village was a no-nonsense and fearful place for bandits. Even the day they attacked them, it was a raid, not face-to-face, which shows an act of cowardice. Therefore, the Fulani won’t stop terrorising; they’ll move forward until they’ve conquered the Hausa land entirely, as captured and masterminded by their ancestors for centuries.

Negotiation with bandits, even though it has never happened at the state level but at the local governments’ level, as seen in Jibia, Batsari, Kurfi, Kankara, and others, makes us suspect that even those that happened at the local governments’ level were with the governor’s consent. He doesn’t want to admit his failure or is afraid of reversing his stance on non-negotiation with bandits.

The idea is totally archaic and reckless because not everybody will sit down and watch people who killed their loved ones or bankrupted them through ransom payments be forgiven and allowed to roam freely, while the people they killed are no more. The properties destroyed or collected for ransom are not compensated.

Even the government’s careless move to empower repented bandits is not welcoming because they have enough money collected from ransom payments. Why should the government empower them with our money? I think the best approach is to empower the victims, not the repentant bandits. The government should also reintensify its security approach, especially given the recent surge in banditry attacks in eastern and southern Malumfashi over the past two days. May Allah restore absolute peace and stability in our towns, states, and the country at large.

By Iranloye Sofiu Taiye

The crackle of gunfire shattered the night’s calm in Patigi Local Government Area last August. For hours, residents hid in terror as militants believed to be linked to the Mahmuda terrorist faction ransacked homes and farms, leaving behind a trail of displacement and despair. This wasn’t in conflict-ridden Zamfara or Borno. This was Kwara State, Nigeria’s so-called “State of Harmony”, now facing the brutal reality of spillover violence from neighbouring conflicts.

For years, Kwara has been regarded as an oasis of peace. While northern states battled insurgencies and northwestern states negotiated with bandits, Kwara’s security strategy primarily relied on these measures. This complacency is now our greatest vulnerability. As armed groups face increasing pressure in Nigeria’s northwest and the Sahel, they are seeking new territories and routes, and Kwara’s under-protected border communities present the perfect opportunity.

The data reveals an alarming trend: while Kwara recorded 70 violent incidents in 2024, representing a sharp increase from previous years, with ACLED data showing 21 fatalities signalling emerging threats. Meanwhile, neighbouring Niger State suffered 179 incidents with 514 deaths, over 2.5 times Kwara’s rate. This disparity highlights both Kwara’s relative peace and its growing exposure. Nigeria’s overall security situation has deteriorated dramatically, with the country dropping to 148th on the 2025 Global Peace Index and suffering over 2,266 deaths from banditry and insurgency in just the first half of 2025, exceeding the entire 2024 total.

The False Comfort of “Relative Peace”

Kwara’s peaceful reputation has created a dangerous paradox: the state appears secure compared to Nigeria’s raging conflicts, yet this very perception has led to critical underinvestment in security preparedness. With a meagre ₦350 million (approximately $230,000) security vote in its 2025 budget, Kwara has insufficient resources for basic border surveillance, let alone comprehensive counterinsurgency measures. This budgetary neglect reflects a fundamental misreading of the evolving threat landscape.

The nature of modern conflict doesn’t respect artificial boundaries. Militant groups operate across porous borders, exploiting governance vacuums and ethnic kinship. The emergence of groups like Mahmuda around the Kainji Lake area demonstrates how terrorist organisations establish footholds in perceived “safe havens” before expanding their operations. As security reports have noted, there have been at least 13 ISIS-Sahel-linked attacks in central Nigeria in 2025 alone, indicating a strategic southward expansion.

The situation mirrors concerning patterns elsewhere in West Africa, where jihadist insurgency has spread from the Sahel toward coastal states. The southward spillover alarmingly threatens countries like Benin, Togo, Ghana, and Côte d’Ivoire, which until recently had been mostly spared jihadist violence. Kwara now faces precisely this dynamic, compounded by the added vulnerability of having dismissed the threat until it arrived at its doorstep.

Recommendation: A Community-Based Solution

Some advocate for a traditional security response: deploying additional military forces along border areas, establishing checkpoints, and implementing drone surveillance. While these measures have short-term deterrent effects, they come with significant tradeoffs: escalating tensions with communities, straining federal-state relations, and diverting scarce resources from development needs.

A more effective approach combines strategic security presence with community empowerment. I recommend that Kwara State immediately establish a Community-Led Early Warning and Resilience Program (CLEWRP) to train and equip more than 5,000 local volunteers in conflict mediation, digital reporting, and response coordination. This approach recognises that security is not merely about repelling attacks but about building resilient communities capable of preventing, withstanding, and recovering from violence.

The evidence supporting community-based security is compelling. When local populations are empowered as first responders, they provide hyperlocal intelligence that external forces cannot access. They understand the terrain, recognise outsiders, and can distinguish between legitimate herders and criminal elements. As the tragic incidents in Kwara’s south communities have shown, top-down security responses often arrive too late after attacks have occurred and perpetrators have vanished into the forest corridors connecting Kwara, Niger, and Kogi states.

The proposed CLEWRP program would unfold in three phases: planning and stakeholder consultations across Kwara’s 16 LGAs; pilot implementation in high-risk areas; and statewide scaling, with continuous evaluation. The Kwara State Ministry of Homeland Security and Vigilante Affairs would lead implementation, partnering with the National Emergency Management Agency for federal coordination, local governments for ground implementation, and international organisations for training expertise.

Financing the $3-5 million USD program would require a blended approach: 60% from the state budget and 40% from federal security grants and humanitarian NGO partnerships.

A National Security Imperative

Kwara’s security crisis represents a microcosm of Nigeria’s broader challenges. The federal government’s 2025 budget allocated ₦4.91 trillion to defence and security, about 8.9% of total expenditure, recognising that without security, economic development is impossible.

The national security strategy must therefore prioritise preventing the southward spread of violence in states such as Kwara. This requires both regional cooperation and smarter resource allocation. The Accra Initiative, which promotes intelligence-sharing among coastal West African states, offers a promising model that should be expanded to include central Nigerian states facing spillover threats.

Furthermore, security funding should incentivise preventive approaches rather than merely funding reactive measures. The federal government could establish a matching-grant program for states that develop community-based security initiatives, thereby encouraging locally adapted solutions rather than one-size-fits-all approaches.

The Time for Action Is Now

Kwara stands at a precipice. The state can continue its complacent approach, hoping that violence will spare its territories, or it can acknowledge the changing threat environment and build resilient systems before the crisis becomes a catastrophe. The choice is stark: invest modestly in prevention now, or pay enormously for response later.

The CLEWRP program offers a practical, cost-effective solution that aligns with Kwara’s cultural traditions of community cooperation while incorporating modern technology and coordination methods. It acknowledges that security is not solely the government’s responsibility but a shared undertaking between authorities and citizens.

History shows that complacency amid spreading instability is a recipe for disaster. West Africa’s security landscape has deteriorated dramatically in recent years, with jihadist groups expanding their operations. Kwara cannot assume it will remain immune.

The phrase “State of Harmony” should not be a relic of Kwara’s past but a promise for its future. Preserving this harmony requires honest acknowledgement of emerging threats, courageous investment in preventive measures, and collaborative implementation across government and communities. The time for action is now, before the next attack becomes a full-blown crisis.

Iranloye Sofiu Taiye is a Policy Analyst specialising in Peace Building and Conflict Resolution, Digital Governance, and Service Delivery, and can be contacted via iranloye100@gmail.com.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

Rector Cares Foundation’s documentary “Dying for Water” has won the Award of Excellence for Best Film on Climate Change at the Africa Film for Impact Festival (AFFIF) 2025, earning widespread recognition for its powerful portrayal of water poverty in rural Nigeria. 

Screened at the festival’s 4th edition, held from October 29–31 at Silverbird Cinemas, Yar’Adua Centre in Abuja, the film tells the story of Fatsuma, a mother grieving the loss of her child who drowned in an unsafe community well, and highlights the daily struggles faced by women and children relying on hazardous water sources. 

Founder and executive producer Onyedikachi Erete described the honour as a validation of the Foundation’s mission. “This victory validates our mission to ignite conversations about water poverty and the crucial role of WASH in fostering sustainable development,” he said. 

Directed by Omoregie Osakpolor and co-produced by Stephanie Ohumu, the documentary forms part of Rector Cares Foundation’s ongoing efforts to raise awareness of climate-driven water crises and strengthen collaborations with organisations working in water provision and technology. 

By Muhammad Abubakar

The Muslim Public Affairs Centre (MPAC) has condemned what it describes as the “sectarian and deeply troubling” conduct of a recent United States congressional delegation to Nigeria.

In a statement issued by its Executive Chairman, Disu Kamor, MPAC faulted the visit of Congressman Riley Moore, who publicly emphasised meetings with Christian and traditional leaders during the trip, including bishops in Benue State and a Tiv traditional ruler. Moore, a vocal proponent of the claim of a “Christian genocide” in Nigeria, said on his X account that he came “in the name of the Lord” and held discussions on alleged Fulani-led attacks.

MPAC argued that the delegation’s failure to engage the leadership of the Nigerian Muslim community—particularly the Nigerian Supreme Council for Islamic Affairs (NSCIA)—was a deliberate snub rather than a scheduling issue. It accused the U.S. team of avoiding Muslim victims and communities affected by violence and warned that such selective engagement risked reinforcing “extreme voices and anti-Muslim narratives” within U.S. policy circles.

The organisation said the pattern of “selective listening, selective engagement, and selective outrage” threatens Nigeria’s delicate interfaith balance. It called on international partners, especially the United States, to demonstrate neutrality and ensure that foreign policy on Nigeria is not shaped by religious lobbies or sectarian biases.

MPAC reaffirmed its commitment to justice and peaceful coexistence, urging Nigerians to question why key Muslim institutions and victims were excluded from the delegation’s itinerary.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

The Nigerian government has secured the release of 100 schoolchildren abducted last month from St. Mary’s School, a Catholic boarding institution in the Papiri community of Niger State.

The attack, which occurred on November 21, saw armed men take 303 students and 12 teachers hostage. In the days following the abduction, 50 pupils managed to escape and were reunited with their families.

According to officials, the rescued children are expected to be handed over to Niger State authorities for medical and psychological evaluation. Government sources confirmed the release but did not disclose whether it resulted from negotiations, military operations, or other interventions.

Despite the successful rescue, concerns remain high. More than 160 students and staff members are still unaccounted for, leaving many families anxiously awaiting news of their loved ones.

Child-protection advocates and community leaders have renewed calls for stronger security measures around schools, stressing that the safety of students must be a national priority as mass abductions continue to plague parts of the country.

By Isyaka Laminu Badamasi

It is becoming glaring that the Federal Government is taking Nigerians for granted. A few months back, we were all here condemning the new tax reform introduced by the APC administration led by President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, a reform whose implications will be deeply felt by Nigerians, especially the downtrodden.

Though some analysts and experts argue that the new tax reform is the right step, particularly for an economy whose revenue depends almost 70% on crude oil, my little contribution to the debate is not to analyse the reform or weigh its positive and negative impacts on our well-being. Rather, it is to raise a few critical questions arising from my thoughts on the matter at hand.

My concern is specifically about content creators who were engaged to sensitise Nigerians on the new bill—a development that sparked another debate, one that again exposed our disunity as a people and our lack of seriousness about matters of national importance and those inimical to our well-being. Nigerians, especially Northerners, instead of examining the bill and preparing for constructive criticism, began complaining that none of the selected content creators was from the core North. As if having a core Northern content creator in the sensitisation team would somehow change or reduce the taxes that will eventually be imposed on core Northerners.

With or without any sensitisation or awareness campaign, the new tax reform has come to stay. Regardless of how people accept or reject it, it will be implemented as planned. The content creators engaged by the government may not even understand the policy themselves, let alone be able to sensitise the public properly.

For me, therefore, this entire conversation about the “selection of content creators” is unnecessary. To my understanding, it was technically designed to divert Nigerians’ attention. Instead of focusing on constructive criticism of this inhumane policy, we have been pushed into arguing over who should be involved, when, and how—a distraction that does not help an already fragmented country.

Let us not forget that we are in 2025, in the 21st century—111 years as an amalgamated entity and 65 years as an independent nation, with more than two and a half decades of an uninterrupted democratic dispensation. It is high time we appreciate our togetherness despite the odds and chart a path toward unity. This is especially crucial at this moment, when we are facing serious and multidimensional security challenges, particularly here in the North, ravaged by bandits, insurgents, and kidnappers, with pockets of ethnic and religious conflicts here and there. Do we so easily forget that Nigeria was once declared a “country of particular concern” by the US President, Donald Trump?

It is important for policymakers and implementers to avoid introducing issues that, instead of fostering peaceful coexistence, end up dividing us. Meanwhile, those in positions of authority continue siphoning our meagre resources—resources that have failed to address our critical challenges in health, education, security, and other essential sectors.

On the issue of not engaging or selecting content creators from the core North for this “all-important” sensitisation campaign, the situation is both baffling and questionable. It is strange that the PR unit of the FIRS/FGN did not consider the three major languages—Hausa, Igbo, and Yoruba—alongside English, our official language, as part of their information-dissemination strategy. However, it is still not too late to make corrections.

Whatever the reasons may be, Nigerians—regardless of region or religion—should prepare themselves, as the policy will take effect come January 2026.

Isyaka Laminu Badamasi wrote via makwalla82@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Sulaiman

The Arewa Community Germany has formally disassociated itself from a video circulating online about a so-called “Hausa International Protest” organised by Hausa Tsantsa Development Association, staged in Berlin.

In a letter addressed to Nigeria’s Consul General in Frankfurt, Ambassador Yakubu A. Dadu, the group said it had no role in organising or endorsing the demonstration and warned that the protest’s message conflicts with its core values.

The association, represented by Alhaji Tijani Garba, Dr. Ummah Aliyu Musa and Buhari Abubakar, stressed that it was founded on the principle of unity among all northern Nigerian peoples. It noted that Hausa, Fulani, Kanuri, Tiv, Nupe and other groups share a common heritage, adding that the organisation “does not draw lines” between northerners and will not support any activity that promotes ethnic profiling or elevates one group above another.

According to the statement, the Berlin protest risks fueling division and misunderstanding among Arewa communities in the diaspora, where the group says cohesion is especially important. The association reaffirmed its focus on cooperation, peaceful engagement and presenting a positive image of Northerners living in Germany.

The Arewa Community Germany also cautioned the public against linking its name to the protest, emphasising that any event involving the association will be announced through its official channels.

The group concluded by reaffirming its stance on harmony, mutual respect and a united Arewa identity.

Dr Ebenezer Obadare, a Senior Fellow for Africa Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), recently testified before a joint briefing of the United States Congress on the security crisis in Nigeria. Given CFR’s extraordinary influence on U.S. foreign policy, as its analysts brief the Congress, the State Department, and the White House, the accuracy and balance of Dr Obadare’s testimony matter significantly.

At the briefing, U.S. lawmakers and witnesses made one demand that every responsible Nigerian, Muslim or Christian, would be happy with: that Nigeria must disarm armed militias and prosecute attackers. The renewed commitment we are now seeing from the Nigerian government, including airstrikes against armed militias, the planned police and military recruitment, and the declaration of a national security emergency are all a response to the mounting U.S. pressure. On this point, American engagement has been productive.

However, Dr Obadare went far beyond the reasonable. After acknowledging the recent steps taken by President Tinubu, he nevertheless insisted that “Washington must keep up the pressure.” To him, U.S. leverage should not only be used to combat Boko Haram but to pressure the Nigerian president to abolish Sharia criminal law in twelve northern states and disband Hisbah commissions across the northern region. This framing is problematic on several counts.

First, it portrays Nigeria not as a sovereign state but as a dependent client whose legal and cultural system must be restructured via external coercion. This is not only intellectually careless; it is politically reckless. Nigeria’s constitutional debates, including the place of Sharia within a federal arrangement, cannot be resolved through directives from Washington. These are matters rooted in decades of negotiation, legal precedent, historical realities, and democratic choice. Such complexity cannot be wished away by foreign pressure or reduced to simplistic talking points about religious persecution. Sharia was introduced between 1999 and 2001 through public consultation and mass popular demand by the local citizens in northern Nigeria, who are Muslims. Subsequently, it was formalised and enacted into law by the various State Houses of Assembly.

Second, Obadare’s argument misdiagnoses the root causes of violence in the north. Boko Haram and ISWAP do not derive their ideology from the Sharia systems implemented by northern states since 1999. In fact, Boko Haram explicitly rejects these systems as insufficient, impure, and corrupted by democracy. They consider northern governors apostates precisely because they operate within a secular constitution. The group’s origins lie in violent extremism, socio-economic marginalisation, and the 2009 extrajudicial killing of the group’s founder, Mohammed Yusuf. It has nothing to do with the Sharia framework implemented by the twelve northern states. In fact, Boko Haram rejects and condemns these state Sharia systems as illegitimate, and this is why the majority of their victims are Muslims themselves. 

It is therefore analytically false to imply that Sharia criminal law fuels this insurgency. This narrative does not withstand even a basic historical timeline. The Maitatsine insurgency of the 1970s, whose ideology and violence closely resemble Boko Haram, predated the introduction of Sharia in the early 2000s by decades. To frame Sharia as the catalyst of terrorism is therefore a misreading of history and to locate causality where it does not exist.

Third, the call to disband Hisbah groups ignores their actual function and constitution. Hisbah institutions are state-established moral enforcement agencies regulated by local laws. They are not terrorist actors, militias, or insurgent organisations. They are contrary to Dr Obadare’s claims that they “impose extremist ideology, enforce forced conversions, and operate with near-total impunity.” These assertions either misrepresent the facts to unfairly tarnish their reputation or reflect intellectual laziness that risks misleading American policymakers. In doing so, they also demonise millions of peaceful Nigerian Muslims who regard Sharia as a legitimate component of their cultural and moral identity.

Finally, Dr Obadare’s testimony, intentionally or not, reinforces a narrative in Washington that sees Nigeria’s crisis primarily through the lens of religious conflict rather than the multi-dimensional reality it is, that is, a mixture of terrorism, banditry, state failure, local grievances, arms proliferation, and climate-driven resource conflicts in the form of farmer-herder crisis. Oversimplification of this serious problem does not aid victims. It distorts U.S. policy and encourages punitive measures that could destabilise fragile communities further and restrict the fundamental rights of millions of Muslims to exercise their faith and adhere to the guidance of Shari’a in their personal and communal lives. 

Nigeria faces serious security challenges amid years of leadership neglect. We genuinely need pressure to put the leaders on their toes, but not the kind rooted in calculated distortion. There is a need for leadership accountability, but not at the expense of Nigeria’s sovereignty. And we need a partnership with the United States in the areas of intelligence gathering, military capabilities and a mutually beneficial partnership. 

The United States should not base its engagement on flawed analyses made by experts such as Dr Ebenezer Obadare, which risk misrepresenting Nigeria’s realities, undermining local institutions, and prescribing solutions that could exacerbate rather than resolve the country’s complex security challenges. Partnering with the Nigerian government enables a tailor-made approach to effectively address these challenges, rather than relying on experts who have long been out of touch with Nigerian realities beyond what they read in media reports.

The Nigerian state must do more, no doubt. But analysts like Dr Obadare must also do better. Nigeria deserves policy analysis grounded in accuracy, proportionality, and respect for the complexities of a plural society; not sweeping prescriptions that collapse constitutional debate into counterterrorism and treat millions of northern Muslims as collateral in the process.

Ibrahiym A. El-Caleel writes from Nigeria and can be reached at caleel2009@gmail.com.

By Mallam Shamsuddeen Suleiman Kibiya

In the long and complex story of Islam in Nigeria, the tension between Salafi reformists and Sufi traditionalists has never been merely a clash of doctrines. It is, more often than we care to admit, a clash of tempers—of the tone one uses, the suspicion one bears, and the verdict one passes on those who practice religion a bit differently. What should have remained a quiet intellectual disagreement has, over time, metamorphosed into an extremism that thrives not on knowledge but on rhetoric.

When Dr Idris Abdulaziz Dutsen Tanshi passed on, the reaction from certain Salafi circles betrayed this peculiar tendency. His admirers saw his death as the painful exit of a righteous man who had lived his life fighting against innovation in religion and straightening the Umma along the path of Tawhid. On the other side, some Sufi-leaning critics responded not with mercy but with long-stored resentment—reminding the public of his “harshness,” his “excessive criticisms,” and his uncompromising, even combative sermons. The atmosphere felt less like the departure of a scholar and more like the settling of old, bitter scores.

And when Shaikh Dahiru Bauchi passed a few days ago, the pattern repeated itself, but this time in reverse. Sufi adherents elevated him beyond scholarship—into sainthood, into miracle, into myth. The outpouring was understandable, but in some corners it crossed into something else: a triumphalism that painted all those who disagreed with his spiritual path as misguided, cold, or spiritually weak. Some Salafi commentators, instead of exercising solemnity, used the moment to revisit old doctrinal disputes—reminding audiences of “bid’ah,” “ghuluw,” and “un-Islamic practices.” Even in death, the walls between both camps seemed eager to echo old hostilities.

What is common to both episodes is that the extremists on either side were saying the same thing without even realising it: that Allah’s mercy is exclusive to their camp; that the Ummah is too big to be shared, but too small to contain disagreement. And this, in its essence, is the extremism of our time—not the extremism of bombs and guns, but the extremism of the tongue.

The Salafi hardliner tends to imagine himself as the last defender of pristine Islam, wielding a vocabulary of denunciation: shirk, bid’ah, dalala, and ghaflah ad infinitum. Every disagreement becomes a deviation, every deviation a threat, and every Sufi becomes a suspect. Meanwhile, the Sufi extremist believes himself to be the custodian of spiritual truth, seeing the Salafi as spiritually blind, stone-hearted literalist, deprived of the inner sweetness of faith and to stretch it even further, an enemy of the beloved prophet SAW himself. Each side constructs a convenient caricature of the other —and then fights that caricature as if it were real.

The danger, however, is that rhetorical extremism does not remain rhetorical over the long run. It shapes communities. It hardens hearts. It turns mosques into enclaves, scholars into partisans and differences into hostilities. What begins as doctrinal rigidity becomes social fragmentation. And what should have been an Ummah becomes a map of feuding camps.

Yet, there is something instructive about how both Dr Idris Abdulaziz and Shaikh Dahiru Bauchi were remembered by their true students—not those who fight for them online, but those who actually sat with them. I mean, their real students, across divides, spoke about their scholarship, humility, discipline, and service. They remembered their knowledge—not their polemics. They recalled their character—not their controversies. This is a reminder that the extremists on both sides, loud as they are, do not represent the whole story.

Nigeria’s Muslim community must now decide what it wishes to inherit from its scholars: the softness of their manners or the sharpness of their debates; their mercy or their anger; their wisdom or their polemics.

To insist that disagreement must lead to division is itself an extremist position. To insist that every scholar must resemble one’s preferred tradition is another. And to pretend that Islam is too fragile to survive multiple approaches is perhaps the greatest of all.

In the end, the Ummah does not collapse because its members disagree. It collapses when disagreement becomes hatred, and hatred finds a pulpit.

May Nigeria’s Muslims learn to argue with knowledge, to differ with dignity, and to remember that Allah, in His infinite mercy, did not create only one path to Him—and certainly not only one temperament.