United States

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 Abdulhamid Abdullahi Aliyu

When Zohran Mamdani, an Ugandan-born politician of Indian descent who migrated to the United States, emerged victorious as the new Mayor of New York, it became more than just another electoral story from America. His triumph resonated across continents, sparking global conversations on representation, inclusion, and the reawakening of civic trust in politics. For many, Mamdani’s victory symbolised a powerful statement that character, vision, and authenticity still matter in the age of polarisation.

Mamdani’s path to City Hall was anything but easy. As an immigrant, a Muslim, and a progressive voice, he faced a storm of hostility from powerful circles. President Donald Trump and billionaire Elon Musk, among others, were said to have thrown their weight behind his opponents, amplifying fears that his immigrant roots and socialist ideals made him unfit for leadership. Yet, against all odds, Mamdani not only survived the onslaught but emerged stronger, armed with nothing but a clear message of hope, justice, and inclusiveness.

What made Mamdani’s campaign remarkable was not just his defiance of elite power, but his connection with ordinary people. His grassroots outreach, his emphasis on social housing, education, climate action, and racial justice found resonance among New York’s diverse electorate. He spoke to their realities, not to their fears. In doing so, he rekindled faith in participatory democracy, the belief that leadership should reflect the people’s shared struggles and aspirations, not the privilege of a few.

It is no coincidence that Mamdani’s rise echoes that of other reform-minded figures who emerged from outside political establishments. His campaign defied the dominance of corporate funding and media bias, relying instead on volunteerism, small donations, and community-based mobilisation. That model reminded the world that authenticity, not affluence, is what truly earns public trust.

Back home in Nigeria, Mamdani’s story holds profound lessons. Our political system remains heavily tilted in favour of the wealthy and the well-connected. Elections are often a contest of money, not merit. The idea of a young, visionary leader without financial backing or godfather support ascending to power still sounds utopian. Yet his victory invites reflection. What if Nigerian politics began to reward credibility over connections? What if the masses recognised their collective power to shape outcomes beyond inducements and ethnic sentiments?

Mamdani’s triumph also reinforces the value of civic enlightenment. His message cut through misinformation because citizens were engaged and aware. In Nigeria, the recurring crisis of leadership is not only about corrupt elites but also about the disempowered electorate that allows manipulation to thrive. Real change begins when citizens see themselves as active participants in governance, not passive observers of elite bargains.

Beyond politics, his story underscores the beauty of diversity as a source of strength. America, despite its contradictions, remains a land where the son of immigrants can become a city’s chief executive. In Nigeria, where diversity often fuels division, Mamdani’s ascent serves as a reminder that inclusion is not a weakness but a path to unity. The more our institutions reflect the country’s social mosaic, the more legitimacy they command.

The lesson from New York’s new Mayor is therefore clear: leadership that listens, represents, and uplifts will always triumph over propaganda, money, and prejudice. For Nigeria, it is not enough to envy its victory; we must internalise the principles that made it possible: sincerity, civic participation, and justice. Mamdani’s win is not just a political event; it is a mirror reflecting what genuine democracy could look like when people, not power, decide.

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

By Maryam Ahmad

In a development few could have imagined a year ago, Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa is set to meet U.S. President Donald Trump at the White House on Monday. The visit marks the first time a Syrian head of state will be officially received in Washington — a remarkable turn for a man who, until recently, was wanted by the United States.

As recently as December, al-Sharaa carried a $10 million American bounty on his head for his alleged role as an al-Qaeda commander. Now, following a stunning political transformation and rise to power in Damascus, he is being welcomed as a foreign leader and potential partner in the Middle East.

In anticipation of the visit, the U.S. Treasury Department has lifted sanctions against al-Sharaa and his intelligence chief, signalling a major policy shift. Meanwhile, Congress is debating the repeal of the Caesar Act, the 2019 legislation that imposed sweeping sanctions on Syria’s construction, energy, and financial sectors. The Senate has already voted to rescind the law, though the House of Representatives has yet to follow suit.

Inside Syria, reactions are mixed. While some citizens express frustration over al-Sharaa’s secretive governance and reliance on a close inner circle, others see his global rehabilitation as a point of national pride.

For many observers, al-Sharaa’s journey embodies one of the most dramatic reversals in modern diplomacy. Once a U.S. prisoner in Iraq, he will now step into the Oval Office — a symbol of how swiftly global politics can change.

By Hadiza Abdulkadir

In a dramatic escalation of diplomatic tensions, U.S. President Donald Trump announced on Friday that no American government officials will attend the upcoming Group of Twenty (G20) summit in South Africa, scheduled for November 22–23, 2025.

Trump described South Africa as “a total disgrace,” alleging that the white Afrikaner minority is being “killed and slaughtered” and that their land and farms are being seized illegally. He confirmed that Vice President J.D. Vance, who had been expected to attend, would no longer travel to the summit—effectively leaving the United States unrepresented at the major international gathering.

South African President Cyril Ramaphosa has firmly rejected the allegations, calling them “completely false” and “a gross misrepresentation of the reality in South Africa.” He emphasised that violence in the country affects citizens of all races and that claims of state-sanctioned persecution are unfounded.

Trump also hinted that he would push for South Africa’s suspension from the G20, further straining relations between Washington and Pretoria. Analysts warn that the move could have wide-ranging implications for diplomacy, trade, and global cooperation.

By Zayyad I. Muhammad 

1. Immediate Actions: Dispatch a high-level delegation to Washington: President Asiwaju Bola Ahmed Tinubu should immediately send a high-powered delegation composed of respected Nigerian statesmen, business leaders, and senior government officials to engage with U.S. authorities.

The team should include former President Olusegun Obasanjo, former Head of State General Abdulsalami Abubakar, Chief Bola Ajibola, business mogul Aliko Dangote, Rev. Hassan Matthew Kukah, and the President of the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), Most Rev. Dr Daniel Okoh, His Eminence Sultan of Sokoto, representatives of Religious groups, NGO, etc.

From the government side, the delegation should include the Minister of State for Foreign Affairs, the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, and the Governors of Benue,  Plateau, Niger, Katsina, Kaduna, Zamfara, Borno, Yobe and Adamawa States, given the security relevance of their regions.

2. Re-engage the U.S. Mission in Nigeria: The Presidency should task the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and other well-placed Nigerians with deepening communication with the U.S. Mission in Abuja and the Consulate in Lagos to strengthen diplomatic rapport, address misperceptions, and align mutual strategic interests.

3. Reach out to U.S. allies and partners: Nigeria should actively engage with other influential U.S. allies across Europe, the Middle East, and Asia to rally broader international support for Nigeria’s security and development agenda.

3. Seek U.S. assistance in defence cooperation: President Tinubu should formally request more support from the Donald J. Trump administration in providing modern weapons, intelligence-sharing technology, and counter-insurgency training to bolster Nigeria’s fight against terrorism and violent extremism.

4. Immediate appointment of ambassadors: Nigeria’s diplomatic missions have remained without substantive ambassadors for too long. Swift appointments of competent, credible, and globally respected diplomats will help restore Nigeria’s voice and visibility on the international stage.

5. The Minister Yusuf Tuggar should be reassigned to another portfolio, and a new Minister of Foreign Affairs, preferably one with strong international connections and more diplomatic weight, should be appointed. This will send a clear signal that Nigeria is repositioning its foreign policy and engagement strategy.

6. Launch a global public relations drive: Nigeria must embark on a robust, well-coordinated international PR campaign to reshape global perception. This should highlight the Tinubu administration’s economic reforms, anti-corruption measures, and counter-terrorism efforts, while showcasing Nigeria as a stable, investment-friendly democracy that protects all faiths and ethnicities

7. On the Security and Communication Front: The office of the National Security Adviser and the high military command are doing well; thus, to further boost the effort, they should further re-align the war against insurgency and banditry. The battle against bandits, terrorists, and other insurgent groups must be comprehensively restructured. This includes better coordination among the armed forces, improved intelligence gathering, community-based security initiatives, and enhanced welfare for frontline troops. A unified national security strategy will yield faster and more sustainable results.

8. Strengthen media visibility of Nigeria’s counter-terrorism efforts: Nigeria’s efforts in the fight against terror are often underreported or misrepresented internationally. There should be massive, transparent media coverage, both traditional and digital, to showcase the government’s ongoing efforts, victories, and human stories of resilience. This will help counter misinformation, boost public morale, and attract global understanding and support.

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

By Muhammad Sulaiman

Former U.S. Vice President Dick Cheney passed away last night at the age of 84, his family announced in a statement this morning. The cause of death was complications arising from pneumonia as well as cardiac and vascular disease.

Cheney, who served as vice president under President George W. Bush from 2001 to 2009, was one of the most influential and controversial figures in modern American politics. Known for his staunch defence of U.S. national security policies following the September 11 attacks, Cheney played a central role in shaping the Bush administration’s foreign and defence strategies, including the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Born in Lincoln, Nebraska, in 1941, Cheney held numerous key government positions throughout his career, including White House Chief of Staff under President Gerald Ford and Secretary of Defence under President George H.W. Bush.

In recent years, Cheney had battled various health challenges, including multiple heart-related issues. His family said funeral arrangements will be announced in the coming days.

“Dick Cheney was a patriot who devoted his life to serving his country,” the family’s statement said. “He will be remembered for his leadership, his resolve, and his unwavering commitment to the United States.”

By Dr Samaila Suleiman Yandaki

Nigeria is once again in the global spotlight in the wake of its redesignation as a Country of Particular Concern and the accompanying threat of U.S. military action by the Trump administration to save Nigerian Christians from “genocide”. This narrative is as dangerous as it is familiar, evoking the old imperial logic that simplifies and distorts our complex realities to justify external intervention. As a student of the politics of history and identity conflict, I find this portrayal beyond perturbing and perilous. 

I witnessed firsthand how such perilous narratives were debated in international policy circles when I joined other Nigerian and British stakeholders at a high-level summit at Wilton Park in February 2020 for a dialogue on “Fostering Social Cohesion in Nigeria”. Situated in the serene estate of Wiston House, Steyning, West Sussex, Wilton Park is an Executive Agency of the UK Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office, widely recognised as a global space for peace dialogues and post-conflict reflection. The meeting was part of the UK government’s follow-up to the Bishop of Truro’s Independent Review on the persecution of Christians worldwide, in which Nigeria was identified as a major flashpoint of “religious violence.” The Truro Report asserted that Nigerian Christians are facing systematic persecution and called upon Western governments to do more to protect them. 

At Wilton Park, we were offered more than an interfaith forum to dialogue; we were given the opportunity to deconstruct the dangerous oversimplifications that have come to characterise Western discourses on Nigeria. Unlike the imperialist gimmicks and threats emerging from Washington today, the British government, through the Foreign and Commonwealth Office, convened diverse stakeholders from Nigeria and the UK – religious leaders, politicians, diplomats, academics, and civil society representatives – to deliberate on the multifaceted security challenges confronting Nigeria and explore ways of building social cohesion. I am not permitted by the Wilton Park Protocol to name participants or cite their specific interventions, but suffice it to say that, with few exceptions, those present were individuals who matter in Nigerian and British policy circles.

The participants spent three days discussing the farmer-herder crisis, the Boko Haram insurgency, and the persistent communal conflicts in the Middle Belt. What struck me most was the consensus among Nigerian participants — Muslims and Christians alike — that the “Christian persecution” framing was profoundly misleading. We emphasised that the reality was far more complex than the narrative of religious persecution suggests. The problem, as several participants observed, is not that Christians do not suffer violence, but that violence in Nigeria is indiscriminate, affecting all communities. To single out one group as uniquely persecuted is to misread the nature of the crisis. 

The Wilton Park approach reflected a subtle but significant shift– the need to appreciate the broader social, political, and environmental dynamics of violence in Nigeria. While the Truro Report relegated these factors to the background, we strongly highlighted them, showing that Nigeria’s crisis is a shared national tragedy rather than a targeted religious war. The goal was to nurture a more nuanced understanding, one that resists the reductive opposition between Muslim perpetrator and Christian victim. 

The meeting concluded on a high note with consensus around the “sensitivity and diversity of conflict narratives,” recognising that every victim’s voice deserves to be heard. It was agreed that shifting the narrative from “Muslims against Christians” and other binary categories must therefore be a priority if we are to avoid deepening existing divisions. The meeting recommended that the Nigerian government should “commission and fund independent, credible research on climate change, number of attacks, crime victims, cattle routes and patterns; develop strategy on how to use data to proactively educate, myth-bust and shape narratives for both sides of the argument; justice and peace training to be included in schools; Government of Nigeria to appoint a National Reconciliation Adviser; establish a Joint Religious Coalition to ensure accountability of government for insecurity and politicisation of conflict; develop religious engagement strategy; and commence dialogue to facilitate creating ‘Code of Conduct’ for religious leaders,” among other actionable recommendations. This later became the groundwork for further peacebuilding engagements between Nigerian and British stakeholders. The Wilton Park dialogue is a model of thoughtful engagement, the kind of thoughtful diplomacy the world requires in times of conflict, not the militarised moralism coming from Washington. 

The question is, what are the true intentions of Trump? Is he genuinely motivated by a humanitarian desire to protect Nigerian Christians, or is this another exercise in the US geopolitical and imperial crusade? History offers little reason for optimism. We know that humanitarian and messianic pretexts always precede Imperial interventions. In the 19th and 20th centuries, colonial logic was a “civilising mission”; today it is “defence of persecuted Christians”. The language changes, but the logic remains the same —define and rule, borrowing from Mahmood Mamdani. The Palestinian literary critic Edward Said describes this imperial habit of defining how others are perceived and how their suffering is interpreted. Therefore, classifying Nigeria—a complex, plural, and Muslim-majority nation—as a persecutor of Christians is a convenient casus belli for Trump, masquerading as a humanitarian concern. 

Meanwhile, I congratulate the proponents of the “Christian genocide” narrative in Nigeria and beyond. We are now officially a Country of Particular Concern, polarised and divided. As the advocates of the narrative await, with self-righteous anticipation, an American-led “rescue mission”, I want to remind them of the devastation that American invasion has brought to nations in the name of salvation: Libya, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, Vietnam, Somalia. Each intervention was couched in the language of freedom, yet each left behind broken societies and deepened resentment.

The “Christian genocide” narrative is doubly dangerous: while deepening domestic divisions, it legitimises foreign intervention. This is not to deny the suffering of Christians in parts of Nigeria. Their pain is real and deserves acknowledgement. But this is equally true of Muslims and others who have suffered the same fate. The question is not who suffers most, but how that suffering is framed. 

Ultimately, the Nigerian state bears the greatest responsibility for its failure to protect all its citizens. Endemic corruption, elite impunity, and the persistent inability to provide security for Nigerians have created fertile ground for such divisive narratives to thrive. Unfortunately, the citizens themselves have collectively failed to hold the government accountable for these failures. Instead, they are busying themselves competing for victimhood, thereby creating the conditions for external powers to intervene discursively and politically. It is this vacuum that the Trump administration is filling.  

The task before Nigerian scholars, faith leaders, and policymakers is to reclaim the narrative, not through denial, but through a more honest, inclusive, diplomatic and historically grounded understanding and framing of its own complex realities. The federal government must strengthen its security institutions and reassert the primacy of equal citizenship. All lives matter in Nigeria—Christian, Muslim, and traditionalist alike.

Dr Samaila Suleiman writes from the Department of History, Bayero University, Kano.

By Misbahu El-Hamza

President Bola Tinubu has finally responded to the false accusation of a “Christian genocide” in Nigeria, a narrative that surfaced in late September. Yet as this claim gains traction in U.S. conservative circles, he should be more worried about his political prospects. The narrative—and U.S. President Donald Trump’s recent call to redesignate Nigeria as a Country of Particular Concern (CPC)—could give Washington both motive and cover to oppose Tinubu’s re-election in 2027, just as former President Goodluck Jonathan alleged of the Obama administration in 2015.

Former President Jonathan publicly claimed that he lost the 2015 election because of U.S. interference. Two issues broadly defined the diplomatic rift between the two governments. The first was Boko Haram’s insurgency and the abduction of the Chibok girls. In a 2018 BBC interview, Jonathan lamented that Nigerians in the U.S. joined public protests there, one of which famously featured Michelle Obama holding a placard with the slogan #BringBackOurGirls.

At the October 2025 launch of ‘SCARS: Nigeria’s Journey and the Boko Haram Conundrum,’ by former Chief of Defence Staff Gen. Lucky Irabor (retd.), Jonathan recalled: “When I was in office, one of the major scars on my government, and one I will retire with, is the issue of the Chibok girls. As Bishop Kukah said, no plastic or cosmetic surgeon will remove it.” The then-opposition under Muhammadu Buhari, which included Tinubu, exploited insecurity for political advantage, a factor that clearly contributed to Jonathan’s loss.

The second, and in my opinion, more damaging rift was Jonathan’s stance against same-sex marriage, reflecting the convictions of most Nigerians. In 2014, he signed the Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act, shortly after the Obama administration’s 2011 pledge to “use all the tools of American diplomacy” to promote gay rights globally. Washington’s reaction was swift. The White House warned of possible cuts to HIV/AIDS and anti-malaria funding, while Jonathan’s government held firm. Nigerians applauded him for that. But during the 2015 campaign, the Obama administration’s outreach, including direct appeals to Nigerian voters and a high-profile visit by Secretary of State John Kerry, was widely viewed as tacit support for Buhari, which many Nigerians, including Jonathan himself, believe shaped the election’s outcome.

Insecurity also played a domestic role in Jonathan’s downfall. Nigerians were increasingly alarmed by unrelenting violence—beyond Boko Haram, currently compounded by communal, ethnic, and religious clashes and by banditry mostly in northern Nigeria—that claimed hundreds of innocent lives. Regardless of how the world described it, the reality was and is still tragic. It eroded public trust and patriotism. Yet successive governments, rather than restoring security, have often appeared more concerned with foreign perceptions than with rebuilding national confidence and truly working to end the bloodshed of innocent Nigerians.

So, while Jonathan’s administration angered the Obama White House over the same-sex marriage law, many believe that Tinubu’s has irritated Washington for another reason.

In early September, U.S. Senator Ted Cruz introduced the Nigeria Religious Freedom Accountability Act of 2025 (S.2747) to the U.S. Senate. The bill seeks to sanction Nigerian officials allegedly complicit in “Islamist jihadist violence against Christians and other minorities” and those “enforcing blasphemy laws”. Blasphemy remains an offence under Nigeria’s criminal code and in the twelve northern states operating shari’a law. Yet, the Cruz bill’s language raises serious questions: how would the former officials be identified, and on what evidence? If Washington possesses proof, it has not presented any. Within Nigeria, such accusations often surface in political rhetoric but rarely withstand scrutiny.

Still, Nigeria’s greater “offence” under Tinubu—at least to American conservatives like Bill Maher, Mike Arnold, Ted Cruz, Riley Moore, and now Donald Trump—is its unwavering support for the Palestinian people. Successive Nigerian governments, whether Christian- or Muslim-led, have consistently condemned Israel’s occupation and called for a two-state solution as the only path to peace. This position, long-standing and bipartisan in Nigeria, clashes directly with Washington’s pro-Israel consensus.

After Nigeria’s firm statement at the 80th UN General Assembly in September, Maher went on his HBO show and declared, “I’m not a Christian, but they are systematically killing the Christians in Nigeria,” comparing it to Gaza and calling it “a more serious genocide.” Such claims, amplified by Trump’s rhetoric about “defending Christians,” serve U.S. political optics more than global justice. Recall Trump’s 2020 CPC designation for Nigeria. It was largely symbolic and carried no enforcement before he left office. His renewed posturing appears equally opportunistic.

Tinubu may believe U.S. pressure arises from concern for Christian victims of Islamist violence and that this aligns with Nigeria’s large Christian population. Yet the U.S. record tells a different story. The same establishment that condemns persecution in Nigeria supports Israel’s war in Gaza, where many casualties are both Muslim and Christian Palestinians.

If Nigeria accuses Washington of selective advocacy, it may find sympathy at home, but not in Washington, where lobbying interests dominate the narrative. Assuming that the “Christian genocide” argument will shield Nigeria from criticism would be a miscalculation.

Tinubu is not yet where Jonathan stood in 2015, but the parallels are unmistakable. The Obama administration’s posture during Jonathan’s re-election bid showed how U.S. influence can shape Nigerian politics. A sustained clash with U.S. policy on religious freedom and Palestine, coupled with insecurity and governance failures, could become a tipping point. Avoiding that outcome will require strategic diplomacy (which we have no doubt our president possesses), credible reform, and a domestic agenda rooted in accountability. Nigerians must see real action towards ending Boko Haram and banditry.

This moment demands political acumen and the disciplined management of both security and foreign relations. Tinubu cannot afford to repeat Jonathan’s missteps. In global politics, misreading Washington’s signals has previously cost Nigerian presidents, and history may not be kind to those who fail to learn from it.

Misbahu writes from Kano and can be reached via email: misbahulhamza@gmail.com

By Hassana Abdullahi

The Trump administration has announced a sharp reduction in the number of refugees allowed into the United States over the next year, slashing the annual cap to 7,500. Officials described the move as being “in the national interest,” marking a dramatic shift from the previous limit of 125,000 set under the Biden administration.

In a statement, government representatives said the new policy would prioritise white South Africans, commonly known as Afrikaners, citing what they described as “ongoing discrimination” against the group in their home country.

The decision has sparked criticism from human rights advocates, who argue that it politicises refugee admissions and undermines America’s long-standing commitment to offering protection based on humanitarian need rather than ethnicity or nationality.

Administration officials, however, defended the move, saying it reflects a “targeted and merit-based” approach to refugee resettlement aimed at protecting those “most aligned with American values.”

The new refugee ceiling marks one of the lowest in U.S. history and signals a broader reorientation of the country’s immigration and humanitarian policies.

By Rabiu Elkanawi

Mr Sulaiman Abbas, a Nigerian-born researcher, is contributing significantly to scientific innovation with his groundbreaking work that has the potential to transform global approaches to climate change.

Abbas, having obtained his MSc from Tianjin University in China, co-authored a highly cited paper on interface engineering for the electrocatalytic reduction of carbon dioxide (CO₂). His research investigates the potential of meticulously engineered nanomaterials and catalyst interfaces to transform CO₂, a significant factor in climate change, into useful fuels and industrial chemicals.

“I have consistently demonstrated a commitment to identifying solutions in the face of challenges,” Abbas stated. 

In Nigeria, industries and power stations emit significant quantities of CO₂, which is frequently regarded merely as waste. My research aims to convert waste gas into valuable resources for energy production and manufacturing.

This study elucidates the engineering of metal–metal, metal–oxide, and molecular interfaces to facilitate the efficient breakdown of CO₂, addressing the resilient chemical bonds that complicate its processing. Abbas’s research enhances catalyst performance, indicating novel methods for producing clean fuels, chemicals, and power storage systems, while simultaneously decreasing greenhouse gas emissions.

Nigeria’s reliance on oil and gas causes environmental issues like rising emissions. Abbas’ research suggests capturing CO₂ from industries, developing low-carbon sectors for green jobs, and rural electrification using CO₂ conversion with solar and wind energy.

Mr Abbas is pursuing a PhD in Solid State Chemistry at the University of Cincinnati and is part of international networks on sustainability and clean energy. His work highlights a circular carbon economy, where Nigeria and developing nations turn environmental challenges into innovation catalysts.

In the pursuit of carbon-neutral technologies, innovators such as Mr Abbas demonstrate that Nigeria’s emerging scientists are prepared to take a leadership role.