The recent resurgence of violent attacks in Niger State serves as a jarring reality check: despite the commendable efforts of our armed forces and the reported neutralization of several bandit kingpins, the beast of insecurity is far from slain.
The Power State, with its vast landmass and strategic proximity to the Federal Capital Territory, has once again become a theatre of anguish, reminding us that the gains made in the fight against terror are fragile and reversible if not consolidated with strategic rigor.
While we acknowledge the tremendous successes recorded by the military in recent months where terrorist camps have been decimated and abductees rescued, the persistence of these attacks suggests that intelligence gathering and the domination of ungoverned spaces remain our Achilles’ heel. We cannot afford to be reactionary. The bandits are adapting, and our security architecture must evolve faster than the adversaries can regroup. To truly record more tremendous success, the government must move beyond kinetic warfare to address the systemic lapses that leave our flanks open.
One of the most glaring of these lapses is the continued, scandalous misallocation of our limited security personnel. For years, successive Inspector Generals of Police have issued directives ordering the withdrawal of Police Mobile Force (PMF) personnel from Very Important Personalities (VIPs). Yet, these directives have largely remained paper tigers, ignored with impunity and lacking the political will for enforcement. The directive is dragging, and the consequences are measured in the blood of innocent citizens left undefended in remote villages.
It is disheartening, even provocative, to witness the continued militarization of our political elite while the masses are left vulnerable. A recent trending video of the Federal Capital Territory Minister, Nyesom Wike, moving through Rivers State with an intimidating, endless convoy of heavily armed security operatives is a case in point. This visual display of force, dedicated to the protection of a single individual, stands in stark, painful contrast to the reality in Niger State, where entire communities are often sacked because there are not enough security boots on the ground to repel attackers.
Such ostentatious displays of state power for private protection act as a psychological assault on the common man. It signals that the lives of the elite are the priority, while the rest of the citizenry must fend for themselves. We cannot claim to have a shortage of manpower in the police force while thousands of our best-trained officers are reduced to carrying bags and opening doors for politicians, celebrities, and wealthy merchants.
If the Federal Government is serious about getting security right, the withdrawal of VIP security must move from a rhetorical directive to an enforced operational standard. The police and military belong to the state and the people, not to the highest bidder or the most politically connected. We must liberate our security forces from the grip of the elite and redeploy them to the frontlines to the forests of Niger, the highways of Kaduna, and the farms of Benue.
We urge the President and the security chiefs to look at the situation in Niger not just as another news cycle, but as a call to streamline our security priorities. We cannot win this war if our soldiers and policemen are tied down on VIP escort duties while the enemy roams free. It is time to strip away the vanity of excessive convoys and return the police to the people. Only then can we truly secure the nation and claim sustainable victory against insecurity.