Nigeria’s insecurity crisis has reached a point where explanations no longer suffice. For years, the federal government has offered familiar narratives: terrorism remnants in the Northeast, banditry in the Northwest, farmer–herder violence in the Middle Belt, separatist tensions in the Southeast, urban crime in major cities, and kidnapping across nearly every state. Yet despite this widely acknowledged landscape of threats, the country continues to drift deeper into instability. What has become increasingly clear is that Nigeria’s challenge is not a lack of awareness but a catastrophic disconnect between what government authorities say they understand and what they are willing—or able—to do to reverse the trend.
This disconnect was once again exposed on the international stage during the recent U.S. congressional hearing on the state of insecurity in Nigeria. American lawmakers—drawing from witness testimonies, international rights organisations, and Nigeria’s own public data—outlined a grim pattern: targeted killings, religiously tinged violence, increasing displacement, and dwindling trust in the country’s security institutions. While the Nigerian side pushed back, insisting that the situation is multifaceted and improving, the deeper problem lingered beneath the diplomatic exchange. Nigeria is stuck in a cycle where the federal government recognises the breadth of the crisis but remains structurally incapable of delivering a solution commensurate with the scale of the problem.
At the heart of Nigeria’s insecurity is a governance architecture that has refused to evolve despite repeated warning signs. The federalised command-and-control structure of policing has left communities under-protected, response time painfully slow, and intelligence operations insufficiently localised. Every state, from Zamfara to Imo, has witnessed instances where security forces arrived only after the violence occurred—and sometimes after perpetrators had retreated into forests or across state borders. Decades of centralisation have created a system where responsibility is national but accountability is thin.
The religious and ethnic dimensions of Nigeria’s insecurity, often treated with caution by government statements, demand frank acknowledgment. In several regions, particularly in the Middle Belt and parts of the Northwest, violence has taken increasingly sectarian patterns. Communities identify their attackers not merely as criminals but as hostile ethnic or religious actors. Conversely, other regions feel unfairly profiled and collectively blamed for crimes committed by fringe elements. The federal government’s reluctance to openly admit the depth of these tensions has prevented the development of conflict-resolution mechanisms tailored to Nigeria’s deeply diverse social fabric. Pretending that identity is irrelevant to the violence has helped no one.
Another critical gap lies in the federal government’s treatment of intelligence. Nigeria’s security agencies are notoriously uncoordinated. Intelligence gathered by one arm is often not shared with others. Local leaders—traditional rulers, community watch networks, grassroots associations—who frequently possess valuable knowledge of attackers’ movements and motives, remain underutilised or mistrusted. The result is a recurring pattern: attacks are carried out with precision, communities send warnings days in advance, and yet security agencies remain slow or absent.
Meanwhile, the economic dimension has only deepened insecurity. Youth unemployment remains high, inflation continues to squeeze vulnerable households, and rural economies have collapsed under the weight of constant attacks. The shrinking of agricultural activity due to fear of bandits and herders has contributed directly to food inflation. Yet federal responses, instead of holistically linking economic deprivation to insecurity, have largely remained rooted in military deployments and episodic crackdowns.
The judiciary and prosecution processes further compound the crisis. Arrested suspects frequently disappear into a system where cases are delayed, mishandled, or abandoned. Communities repeatedly express frustration that detained bandits, kidnappers, or insurgents reappear months later, allegedly freed without explanation. This perception—whether real or exaggerated—has eroded public confidence and fuelled a dangerous appetite for self-help justice.
To move from diagnosis to solution, the federal government must admit that insecurity cannot be resolved through outdated structures. A first step is the long-overdue decentralisation of policing. Nigeria needs multi-layered security arrangements: federal for counterterrorism and border threats, state police for local protection, and community policing for intelligence and rapid response. Without empowering states and communities, the current model will continue to fail.
Secondly, the government must embrace honest dialogue about ethnic and religious grievances. This is not an admission of defeat but a recognition that peace requires addressing perceptions, traumas, and long-standing mistrust. Establishing regional truth, reconciliation, and mediation platforms—staffed by credible, neutral actors—could help reduce retaliatory cycles.
Thirdly, the federal government must overhaul its intelligence-sharing architecture. Technology-driven surveillance, joint command centres, and integrated databases across security agencies would transform the ability to preempt attacks rather than merely react to them.
Fourth, Nigeria must protect its rural economies. Reestablishing farming, reopening rural roads, securing markets, and supporting displaced communities must be treated as national security priorities—not humanitarian gestures.
Finally, transparency is essential. Nigerians deserve clarity about security budgets, progress on arrests, and outcomes of major investigations. Creating a culture of accountability would not only build trust but also pressure institutions to perform.
The missing link in Nigeria’s insecurity crisis has never been a shortage of commissions, reports, or speeches. It is the absence of political courage to implement the structural reforms that Nigeria’s complexity demands. Until the federal government confronts this truth, the country will remain trapped in an endless loop: diagnosing insecurity without curing it, acknowledging threats without neutralising them, and watching communities mourn while waiting for a solution that never arrives.
