By CHRISTIANA DANGYANG
Violence in Nigeria has become a background noise. Bandits strike in Katsina and Zamfara. Insurgents regroup in Plateau and Borno. Farmers and herders clash in Benue. Armed robbery and kidnapping are on the increase. The headlines change. The bloodshed does not.
We have had years of military operations, billions in security budgets and endless campaign promises from Abuja. Yet, the attacks do not stop. They only evolve. The real question is no longer what is happening, but why it keeps happening under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration, just as it did before.
The answer is uncomfortable: Nigeria’s insecurity is not mainly a failure of bullets. It is a failure of governance. In Nigeria, insecurity is often not solved. It is merely managed, sometimes even exploited. During elections, ethnic and religious rhetoric becomes a campaign tool. Leaders draw lines between “us” and “them”, mobilising voters through fear.
It works in the short term. It wins votes. But it leaves communities fractured long after the ballot boxes are sealed. When security is framed through identity rather than reality, the true causes get buried: poverty, land grabbing and collapsing institutions.
What you get is not resolution, but retaliation. And the cycle starts all over again. Local governments were supposed to be the first line of defence. They are closest to the people. They understand the land disputes, the grazing routes and the early warning signs. Today, most exist on paper only. Their autonomy is gone. Their budgets are controlled from state capitals. Their chairmen act as political appointees, not elected leaders.
So when a dispute erupts between farmers and herders, there is no credible local authority to step in and mediate. What starts as a quarrel over a water point can become a massacre. The vacuum is filled by armed groups that offer protection where the state offers nothing. And with weak local structures comes blind security. Intelligence depends on trust. If citizens see no benefit in co-operating with government, they stay silent. Criminals blend into that silence and operate freely.
Nigerian soldiers and police officers have paid with their lives fighting complex threats. That sacrifice is real. But it is often undermined from within. Inadequate welfare, poor inter-agency co-ordination and corruption eat away at effectiveness. Procurement scams and diverted resources mean troops go to the field under-equipped. When citizens believe those meant to protect them are compromised, trust collapses.
Then comes impunity. Misconduct by security personnel or political actors rarely faces consequences. The message is clear: power without responsibility. Grievances pile up. The state loses legitimacy. And communities turn to self-help or vigilante groups, making the security situation even messier.
You cannot separate insecurity from unemployment. When millions of young Nigerians graduate into joblessness, criminal networks and insurgent groups become employers of last resort. It does not excuse crime, but it helps explain why recruitment is so easy.
At the same time, Nigeria’s porous borders act as highways for arms, fighters and illicit trade. Without regional co-operation and proper border control, no amount of domestic policing will hold. What you stop in Sokoto can come back through Niger.
Insecurity is not a natural disaster. It is the product of choices — political, institutional and social. And choices can be changed. Restore real local governance. Give local governments autonomy and resources. Empowered and accountable leaders can detect and defuse conflict before it explodes.
End identity politics. Nation-building requires leaders who speak in “we”, not “them”. Responsible rhetoric is not just moral. It is a security strategy. Reform the security sector. Improve welfare, enforce transparency in procurement and create real accountability mechanisms. Trust is rebuilt when citizens see justice, not just patrols.
Tackle the economy. Job creation and inclusive growth are as critical as any military offensive. A citizen with a stake in the system will be more likely to defend it. Make security a shared duty. Government cannot do this alone. Communities, civil society, religious leaders and the private sector all have a role. But trust must come first, and it starts with consistent, credible action from those in power.
Nigeria’s insecurity did not appear overnight, and it will not disappear overnight. But its persistence is not a mystery. It is rooted in governance gaps, political convenience and weak institutions. The country must decide as another round of campaigns and elections approaches. Will we finally confront the root causes, or will we keep managing the symptoms while the disease spreads