OKPEBHOLO’S SECURITY ARCHITECTURE 

Edo is committed to curtailing crime in the state through strengthened operational security and force of law, writes JOHN MAYAKI 

The battle against insecurity is often won not by buzz words but by the steady accumulation of actions and enormous political will. In Edo State, Governor Monday Okpebholo appears determined to build such an accumulation, stitching together legislation, enforcement, judicial reforms and logistics into what is emerging as a comprehensive security architecture.

For years, cultism and kidnapping cast long shadows across the state. Violent cult rivalries claimed lives with disturbing regularity while kidnappers exploited forests, highways and rural communities, creating an atmosphere of fear that threatened economic and social life. Confronted with this reality upon assumption of office, the governor chose an approach that combines the force of law with the reach of security agencies and the authority of the courts.

The first pillar of that strategy was legislative. Okpebholo’s recognition that security operations are only as effective as the laws that support them, immediately secured the enactment of the Secret Cult and Similar Activities (Prohibition) Law, 2025, as well as amendments to the Kidnapping Prohibition Law. 

Together, the statutes significantly stiffened penalties for cultism and kidnapping, imposed sanctions on sponsors and collaborators, and created legal pathways for dealing with properties linked to criminal enterprises. The message was unmistakable: criminality would no longer enjoy the protection of weak consequences.

Law, however, is merely ink on paper without enforcement. The administration therefore moved to strengthen the operational capacity of security agencies through unprecedented logistical support. Patrol vehicles, particularly Hilux trucks, were procured and deployed across the state to improve mobility and response time. Hundreds of motorcycles were also introduced to enhance access to difficult terrains and forest corridors often exploited by kidnappers. The objective was simple but strategic: deny criminals the advantage of geography.

Beyond equipment came coordination. The government assembled a multi-agency security structure bringing together the police, military, civil defence personnel, vigilante groups and local hunters. Through this collaborative framework, intelligence gathering was expanded, raids intensified and suspected criminal hideouts systematically targeted. The result has been a succession of arrests, including the apprehension of suspected cult leaders and kidnapping suspects across different parts of the state.

One of the most controversial but symbolically powerful aspects of the campaign has been the demolition of properties allegedly linked to kidnapping, cultism and other violent crimes. Buildings identified by authorities as operational bases for criminal networks have been pulled down, while several facilities suspected of serving as meeting points for cult groups have been sealed. To supporters, the policy represents a direct assault on the infrastructure of crime. To critics, it raises important questions about due process. Yet there is little doubt that it has sent a strong deterrent signal across the state.

The administration has also claimed significant recoveries of illegal firearms during security operations, an indication of the scale of weaponisation that had accompanied organised criminal activities. Removing such weapons from circulation is crucial not only for reducing violent crime but also for preventing future conflicts.

Perhaps the most consequential development in the evolving security framework is the governor’s push for judicial acceleration. Having strengthened the law and expanded enforcement capacity, the administration is now seeking to address what many consider the weakest link in Nigeria’s criminal justice chain: the slow pace of prosecution.

To this end, Governor Okpebholo has advocated the establishment of a Special Court dedicated to cultism and kidnapping cases. More significantly, the state government has formally requested the Chief Judge of Edo State to constitute such a court. 

The rationale is compelling. Swift arrests lose much of their deterrent value when prosecution drags on indefinitely. A specialised court, focused exclusively on security-related offences, could ensure speedy trials, timely convictions where guilt is established and prompt exoneration where allegations prove unfounded.

Viewed together, the various initiatives reveal a deliberate pattern. The laws provide the legal foundation. The Hilux vehicles, motorcycles and security equipment provide operational capacity. The special security squads provide enforcement. The demolitions seek to dismantle criminal infrastructure. The arrests disrupt networks. The proposed special court is designed to guarantee judicial closure.

Whether history ultimately judges the strategy successful will depend on measurable outcomes: fewer kidnappings, reduced cult violence, safer communities and greater public confidence. But even at this stage, it is evident that the administration is pursuing a multi-dimensional response rather than isolated interventions. 

In some places, insecurity often thrives on fragmented approaches, but in Edo state, experiment offers an example of what happens when government attempts to bring legislation, enforcement and adjudication into a single coordinated framework.

The challenge now is sustainability. 

Security victories are rarely permanent; they must be continuously defended. Yet if the current momentum is maintained, the state may well be laying the foundation for a more secure future; one in which criminals find fewer hiding places, fewer legal loopholes and far less room to operate.

Mayaki is a Journalist and Diplomat