By Idowu Adebomi, Ado Ekiti
The abduction of more than 200 schoolgirls from Chibok on April 14, 2014, was more than a tragic headline; it became a watershed moment that exposed the deep fragility of Nigeria’s security architecture. Eleven years later, the echoes of that night resonate across the nation, serving as a grim reminder that successive leaders have yet to demonstrate the political will to decisively protect Nigeria’s most vulnerable citizens.
When Boko Haram stormed the Government Girls Secondary School, the world watched in horror. The “Bring Back Our Girls” campaign drew international attention, and the anguish of the nation was captured by First Lady Patience Jonathan’s tearful plea. However, the political fallout was immediate and powerful. Opposition figures, including Bola Tinubu and Muhammadu Buhari, leveraged the disaster to undermine President Goodluck Jonathan, contributing significantly to his 2015 electoral defeat. This initial episode, critics argue, was less about rescuing the girls and more about scoring political points a pattern that appears to have repeated itself ever since.
Successive administrations have been accused of treating the Chibok girls’ fate as a political football rather than a humanitarian imperative. President Buhari pledged to bring them home, yet his tenure was dominated by other national priorities while the destiny of Leah Sharibu still missing after allegedly refusing to renounce her faith remained a painful open wound. The recent abduction of students in Kebbi State on April 5, 2025, proves that the menace has metastasized beyond the northeast, now exploiting the widespread lawlessness characterized by banditry, armed herding, and Islamist insurgencies.
The killing of Brigadier General Uba, announced in a brazen video by ISWAP, should have triggered an immediate, unified response from the highest levels of government. Instead, the presidency has been conspicuously silent on the matter, leaving soldiers and civilians alike to question the state’s resolve. This silence is not a sign of strength; it has been widely interpreted as an abdication of responsibility.
President Bola Tinubu, who assumed office in May 2023, has been consistently urged by civil society, opposition lawmakers, and religious leaders to make security his administration’s top priority. Yet his government appears to be preoccupied with economic reforms and political realignment while the nation continues to face threats. The opposition Alliance for Change’s refrain that the “nation is bleeding” is, for many, a stark assessment of a country held hostage by pervasive terror.
The controversial role of figures like Sheikh Gumi, who often acts as a self-styled mediator while seemingly absolving militants of culpability, further underscores the confusion at the highest levels of government. If the presidency cannot unequivocally condemn the execution of a senior military officer or the mass kidnapping of schoolchildren, the question for ordinary Nigerians becomes: what hope is left?
The Chibok tragedy has cemented itself as a litmus test for every Nigerian leader. Each new attack revives the fundamental question: can the state protect its citizens, or are we condemned to watch helplessly as our children are seized? The answer, as the recent spate of abductions shows, remains unequivocally negative unless decisive, comprehensive action is taken immediately.
Security must dominate the agenda for the upcoming 2027 elections. The ruling All Progressives Congress (APC) cannot afford to treat the Chibok narrative as a political relic; its enduring symbolism must become the catalyst for a total overhaul of Nigeria’s security apparatus.
As Dr. Aisha Okon, a security expert at the University of Ibadan, notes, “The symbolism of Chibok has become a litmus test for Nigerian leaders.” The time for rhetoric has passed; the time for concrete, decisive protection is now, before another school is raided and another family is heartbroken.