WHEN MISTAKES KEEP KILLING

The repeated mistakes in precision strikes raise fundamental question of professionalism, argues

PAT ONUKWULI

In matters of national security, language is often the first casualty. What is described as a “precision strike” increasingly leaves behind the unmistakable imprint of imprecision. What is labelled an “operational success” too often concludes with civilian funerals. And what is routinely framed as an “unfortunate incident” is, upon closer examination, beginning to resemble a pattern.

The recent airstrike at Jilli Market along the Borno–Yobe axis, reportedly killing over 100 civilians, many of them traders, has once again forced the nation into a familiar cycle: shock, denial, reluctant admission, and eventual silence. This sequence is no longer episodic; it is systemic.

It would be analytically insufficient, and morally evasive, to treat this tragedy as an isolated lapse. Over the past decade, Nigeria has witnessed a disturbing continuity of similar occurrences: Rann in 2017, where over 100 displaced persons and aid workers were killed; Tudun Biri in 2023, where a religious gathering was struck; and multiple incidents across Borno, Zamfara, Niger, and Nasarawa States, each marked by the same tragic constants, misidentification, civilian casualties, and institutional defensiveness.

At what point does repetition cease to be error and become evidence? The semantics deployed in official responses are instructive. “Collateral damage” replaces civilian death. “Mistaken identity” substitutes for flawed intelligence. “Regrettable incident” softens the perception of an operational failure. Through this linguistic reframing, the gravity of loss is moderated, and accountability is deferred. Yet for the families affected, there is no ambiguity, only absence.

The contradiction is stark. A military entrusted with protecting lives repeatedly becomes the inadvertent agent of their loss. A state that asserts control simultaneously reveals gaps in command, coordination, and consequence management. And perhaps most troubling, a system that acknowledges error rarely demonstrates visible sanction.

This is where the moral dimension sharpens into focus. Success in military operations is often measured in targets neutralised, territories secured, or threats degraded. But what constitutes success when the same system repeatedly fails in its most fundamental obligation, the protection of innocent life? Can a framework that delivers tactical gains alongside recurrent civilian casualties legitimately be described as successful, or does it represent a deeper failure disguised in operational language?

Repeated failure, when normalised, acquires a dangerous legitimacy. It begins to masquerade as inevitability. Each new incident is contextualised, explained, and absorbed into institutional memory without producing the level of disruption required for reform. Over time, the abnormal becomes routine, and the routine becomes tolerated.

The pattern of response reinforces this concern. Initial denials or defensive posturing give way, under scrutiny, to partial acceptance. Investigations are announced, committees convened, and assurances issued. Yet beyond these formal gestures, there is little visible evidence of consequence, no clear lines of accountability, no public reckoning proportionate to the scale of loss. The cycle resets, awaiting the next “incident.”

This raises fundamental questions of professionalism and doctrine. Modern air operations, particularly in civilian-populated environments, are governed by rigorous protocols: multi-layer intelligence verification, real-time surveillance confirmation, and strict rules of engagement designed to minimise civilian harm. When these safeguards fail not once, but repeatedly, the issue transcends operational error. It becomes institutional.

In this context, the high-level security meeting convened by President Bola Tinubu assumes particular significance. The presence of service chiefs, intelligence heads, and national security leadership suggests recognition at the highest levels that the situation is untenable. Yet recognition, without recalibration, risks becoming ritual, an exercise in acknowledgement without transformation.

Compounding the urgency is the broader security environment. Nigeria continues to confront layered threats across its regions, including insurgency, banditry, mass abductions, and communal violence, while international partners signal concern about deteriorating conditions. In such a context, operational credibility is not merely a military asset; it is a national necessity. Each miscalculation does more than claim lives; it erodes public trust, weakens legitimacy, and complicates already fragile security dynamics.

There is, therefore, an unavoidable ethical tension at the core of this issue. The justification for the use of force rests not only on necessity but on precision, restraint, and accountability. When necessity is invoked, but precision repeatedly fails, the moral foundation of that force begins to erode. Protection cannot coexist indefinitely with preventable harm without demanding a reckoning.

The demands articulated by civil society, independent investigations, transparent accountability, compensation for victims, and a comprehensive overhaul of operational protocols are not excessive. They represent the minimum threshold of responsibility for a state that seeks to align power with justice.

Yet the central question persists, growing more urgent with each recurrence: when will this stop? When will “mistake” cease to function as a recurring explanation and instead trigger systemic correction? When will consequence match acknowledgement? When will the safeguarding of civilian life become not an aspiration, but a verifiable standard?

Until these questions are met with decisive and verifiable action, each new incident will not exist in isolation but will fold into an unbroken continuum, a pattern that reflects not only operational failure but an accumulating moral deficit. What is presented as accidental, when repeated without consequence, begins to acquire the character of expectation. And in that quiet normalisation lies the gravest danger: that a system designed to protect life becomes defined by the persistence of preventable loss, when mistakes keep killing.

Dr. Onukwuli is a legal scholar and public affairs analyst. patonukwuli2003@yahoo.co.uk