Insecurity: Nigeria at a Crossroad to Restore Order, Credibility
With the confirmation of the immediate past Chief of Defence Staff, General Christopher Musa, as Minister of Defence by the Senate, Nigeria now stands at a pivotal moment that could signal a long overdue headway in the fight to restore order, credibility and public confidence in the security apparatus of the nation. Adedayo Adejobi writes.
The resignation of Mohammed Badaru Abubakar as Minister of Defence over what the official statement called health grounds has generated immediate controversy and intense scrutiny. Nigerians have become accustomed to this language in recent months. It has evolved into a polite formula for dismissals the government prefers not to describe honestly. When Abdullahi Ganduje stepped down on similar terms, the public understood the dance that was being performed. It is now a familiar ritual in an administration that is still learning how to confront its internal contradictions without embarrassment. Badaru’s exit is therefore not simply a personnel change. It is a window into deeper national anxieties, unresolved institutional weaknesses, and a security establishment that has struggled to align leadership with competence during one of the most dangerous periods in Nigeria’s modern history.
Badaru’s appointment had always puzzled many who follow the defence sector closely. His background in business and state level governance offered nothing resembling the strategic depth, martial understanding, conflict management capacity, or intellectual rigour that a country dealing with simultaneous insurgencies requires.
The role demanded a mind shaped by years of studying asymmetric warfare, inter agency coordination, intelligence gathering, and the psychology of violent groups.
Nigeria instead received an individual whose prior achievements lay outside the domain of national security. This mismatch was not a trivial error. It was a reflection of a broader culture in which political arithmetic and loyalty regularly overshadow the need for specialised leadership in critical sectors.
The presence of Bello Matawalle as Minister of State for Defence has compounded this dilemma. His tenure as governor of Zamfara state was marked by an extraordinary escalation of banditry. The controversies around his engagements with armed groups created a reputation that has lingered.
Many Nigerians believe he lacks the moral distance and technical capacity required for a role that involves shaping national doctrine on terrorism and internal security. In a ministry that should operate as a sanctuary of credibility and seriousness, his continued presence has raised uncomfortable questions about how Nigeria chooses the custodians of its most sensitive portfolio. These concerns are heightened by the fact that public trust in the state’s willingness to confront violent networks has been eroded by years of ambiguity, conflicting messages, and episodes that have suggested quiet comfort with shadow negotiations.
It is in this climate that the nomination of former Chief of Defence Staff, General Christopher Musa as the new Minister of Defence has been widely interpreted as a corrective measure.
Musa is not a politician. He is a career officer who has spent long period in the theatres where Nigeria’s security threats are most concentrated. He understands the topography of the North East and the North West. He has observed the evolution of Boko Haram factions.
He has engaged the reality of rural bandit territories, the complexity of ethnic armed formations, and the battlefield morale of Nigerian soldiers who operate under adverse conditions. Musa’s career gives him a vantage point that political appointees simply cannot replicate.
With the government following through with his choice, it represents a rare triumph of competence over political balancing.
Even so, the significance of this moment cannot be understood through personalities alone. Nigeria’s security institutions are trapped in structural constraints that extend far beyond any single appointment. The defence ministry has drifted into a habit of treating internal security challenges as opportunities for performative governance rather than sites for strategic intervention. Too many decisions have been influenced by political patronage. Too many contracts have been shaped by opaque processes. Too many field operations have been compromised by interference from actors who measure success by optics rather than outcomes. This mindset has contributed to a widening gap between the severity of the threats confronting Nigeria and the seriousness with which the state responds.
Intelligence failures sit at the heart of this problem. There are persistent gaps in data collection, surveillance technology, information sharing, and analysis.
These deficiencies have allowed criminal groups to operate with confidence. Communities in several parts of the country describe a pattern in which attackers strike with precision, retreat into rural hideouts, and reemerge at intervals without significant disruption.
The state appears reactive. It responds after tragedy rather than anticipating it. The absence of a coherent intelligence architecture that integrates local knowledge, modern detection tools, financial tracking capabilities, and regional cooperation has limited Nigeria’s ability to dismantle terrorist networks from within. A well led ministry would have placed intelligence reform at the centre of its agenda. Instead, the system has drifted.
Another factor that has weakened national resolve is the public perception that the state has been too comfortable with negotiating with criminals. While no country can rule out negotiation entirely, the frequency with which bandits have compelled concessions in Nigeria has fuelled the belief that the state lacks moral authority and operational confidence. The recurring payment of ransoms has turned kidnapping into a profitable enterprise. Communities now see insecurity as a field in which violent actors enjoy more leverage than legitimate institutions. This perception has undermined faith in the government and encouraged criminals to interpret restraint as weakness. A defence ministry led by individuals with questionable records in their interactions with bandits only deepens this sense of moral disorientation.
These institutional and moral crises have shaped the public’s reaction to Badaru’s exit. Many Nigerians see it as an opportunity for a reset, but they also understand how quickly opportunities can be wasted. The resignation hints at a recognition within the presidency that the current security trajectory is neither sustainable nor defensible. Yet the stakes are far higher than reputation management.
Nigeria is in the midst of a long-term contest with groups that have mastered the art of exploiting state weakness. They operate in ungoverned spaces. They recruit from socially and economically marginalised populations. They fund themselves through extortion, illegal mining, cattle rustling, and external sponsorship. They have adapted to military pressure and learned to disperse across terrains where conventional warfare loses its utility. Confronting them requires a security architecture that is both technically sophisticated and ethically grounded.
General Musa represents a figure capable of embodying such an approach, but he cannot deliver results without structural reform. Nigeria needs to transform the defence ministry into an institution guided by strategy rather than patronage. It needs a procurement system that reflects value for money rather than value for networks.
It needs a command structure that supports officers in the field rather than tying their hands through political considerations. It needs a doctrine that places intelligence at the centre of operations and treats every piece of information as part of a larger mosaic. It needs clear lines of communication between civilians and military leaders so that oversight is informed rather than intrusive.
Most importantly, Nigeria needs to rebuild public trust. Citizens who no longer believe that the government is fighting for them cannot cooperate effectively with security agencies. Counterinsurgency thrives on community engagement. When communities lose confidence in institutions, they retreat into self-help strategies that can strengthen the very networks the state seeks to dismantle. For trust to return, the government must present a unified front. It must communicate with clarity and sincerity. It must avoid the temptation to disguise failures as medical emergencies and must instead acknowledge reality. Leadership built on candour is more resilient than leadership built on euphemism.
There is also the regional dimension. Nigeria does not exist in a vacuum. Its borders with Niger, Chad, Cameroon, and Benin have become transit routes for arms, fighters, and illicit activities. A reformed defence ministry must invest in sustained diplomatic and military partnerships. It must revive joint operations that have declined in effectiveness since political upheavals in the neighbourhood. It must integrate foreign intelligence with domestic insights. It must treat regional stability as an extension of domestic security. In an interconnected environment, national security cannot succeed in isolation.
If the government truly wishes to reclaim its pride of place, it must embrace a new philosophy of leadership. This philosophy must recognise that security is not merely the absence of violence but the presence of justice, competence, welfare, and credible authority. It must understand that the fight against terrorism is not a public relations exercise but a long-term commitment that demands sacrifice, transparency, and moral clarity. It must accept that Nigeria cannot defeat its enemies while pretending that poorly suited actors can preside over its most sensitive institutions. The symbolism of placing General Musa in charge will mean little unless it becomes the first step in a comprehensive renewal.
The resignation of Badaru is therefore a moment of national reckoning. It is an inflection point that can signal either the beginning of genuine reform or a continuation of a pattern in which the government manages symptoms rather than causes. Nigeria stands at a dangerous crossroads, but it also stands on the cusp of potential transformation. The future of its security architecture will be shaped by whether it embraces competence, restores integrity, and makes decisions that favour national survival over political expediency.
If it seizes this moment with seriousness, the country can begin to reclaim both strategic credibility and moral authority. If it chooses the path of comfort and denial, the consequences will be written not in official statements, but in the lives of citizens who continue to bear the brunt of insecurity.
Nigeria has lived with fear for too long. It deserves leadership that confronts danger honestly and intelligently. With the next chapter beginning with General Musa, the principle is the same. The country must build a defence establishment that reflects its aspirations, understands its threats, and acts with courage and clarity. Only then can it reclaim the pride of place it once held and move towards a more secure and dignified future.
