Insecurity: Get Our Villages Back

Femi Akintunde-Johnson

It is an old story now, this ceaseless lamentation about Nigeria’s security collapse. Except, in the way of old stories, the misery multiplies, and the actors change masks but never roles. Banditry, terrorism, and unvarnished criminality have evolved beyond roadside skirmishes into a full-blown theatre of war. While we were preoccupied with our electoral exercises, bickering over who gets to preside over the ruins, insurgents were busy upgrading their arsenals and diversifying their sponsors. A curious new twist has now emerged – the allegations that the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) has been complicit in funding Boko Haram. Yes, the very agency that drapes itself in the noble robes of humanitarian aid is now being accused of feeding the monster that has held Nigeria hostage.

 In a world where geopolitics is a chessboard of intrigue, should this really shock us? Not if we are honest. The audacity of these insurgents, the way they march into towns like unwanted landlords, levying farmers and kidnapping students, suggests a level of impunity that cannot be self-sustaining. The typical ragtag terrorists of old could not shoot down military jets, let alone establish parallel governance in captured territories. Yet, here we are, contending with criminals who have transitioned from local nuisances to internationally enabled militants. If the claims about USAID’s complicity hold any water, what does that say about the sanctimonious lectures we receive on human rights and governance from the West?

Before we go too far in our righteous indignation, let us not forget that local culpability remains the bedrock of this disaster. Where are our security apparatchiks in all of this? Why do our intelligence units always seem to be two steps behind? Reports of Boko Haram appointing ‘governors’ in parts of Borno State, laughable as they may seem, are stark reminders of how lawlessness has gained legitimacy under our watch. How do criminals acquire weapons sophisticated enough to challenge a sovereign nation? The answers to these questions lead us in a grim direction – one that exposes a lethal cocktail of corruption, collusion, and chronic incompetence.

 For years, we have been told that terrorists fund themselves through ransoms, illegal mining, and drug trafficking. But that only explains the foot soldiers, the expendable tools. Who buys them their assault drones? Who supplies the logistics that enable coordinated ambushes on military convoys? The porous borders of the Sahel provide an obvious pathway, but a route is nothing without financiers. This is where the accusations against international agencies demand serious scrutiny. Nigeria has been on the receiving end of foreign ‘aid’ for decades, yet somehow, the more the dollars flow, the worse our security situation becomes. Coincidence? Perhaps. But the patterns are too glaring to ignore.

While we demand accountability from foreign players, let us not pretend that our own hands are clean. Too many governors have ceded their territories to warlords under the guise of negotiated peace. Too many high-ranking officials have turned national tragedy into private enterprise, benefitting from inflated military contracts while soldiers fight with outdated weapons. The symbiotic relationship between insecurity and political survival is a dangerous one – disaster breeds dependence, and dependence keeps people distracted. A distracted population does not question why billions in security budgets yield no tangible results. A nation in perpetual crisis will always be too busy surviving to demand real governance.

But even the most resilient of people have their limits. In the recent past, we have had hints of growing discontent among military ranks – rarely breaking through official channels – which suggested an undercurrent of frustration. How long before such disillusionment, if it still exists, and unchecked, translates into a security collapse of irreparable magnitude? If insurgents are already setting up administrative structures, what stops them from making even more ambitious moves? Afghanistan should have taught us that an emboldened terrorist network does not simply stop at controlling villages – it pushes until it reaches the capital.

The solution is neither abstract nor impossible. Security architecture must be restructured in ways that prioritise intelligence, rapid response, and local engagement. The military cannot win this war alone. They need the cooperation of citizens, who, in turn, need assurances that reporting suspicious activity will not earn them a visit from the very criminals they are exposing. Community policing should not be an empty phrase. It should be a reality backed by training, funding, and a clear mandate. Additionally, the government must stop this farcical approach of throwing money at problems without addressing the root causes. If unemployment and poverty remain the fertile grounds upon which terrorism thrives, then those issues must be tackled with the same urgency as any military campaign.

As for the USAID allegations, our government cannot afford to play ostrich with its head buried in the sand. A robust, no-holds-barred investigation is not merely desirable – it is an urgent imperative. Our diplomats must engage with resolute clarity, demanding straightforward explanations from all parties involved. Whether these claims prove to be unfounded or, disquietingly, bear a grain of truth, they must be met with unequivocal accountability. Sovereignty is not a theoretical abstraction but a living, breathing boundary that demands defence at all costs – even when the adversary wears the guise of an ally.

 Nigeria now stands at a defining crossroads. Every moment of indecision in reclaiming lost territories and dismantling terror networks edges us closer to a future too grim to envisage. The cost of inaction is measured not just in lost lands or resources, but in the very soul of our nation. We must ask ourselves with unflinching honesty: do we still possess the collective will to fight for this country? Our future hangs in the balance, and if we continue to dither while threats multiply, we risk consigning our beloved nation to a legacy of perpetual insecurity and despair. The time for half-measures has long passed – it is now a call for decisive, unyielding action.