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The Oracle

The Oracle: Tinubu’s Forest Guard: Who Will Guard the Guard?

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By Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

WHEN THE FOREST HIDES MORE THAN TREES

To paraphrase an old African proverb, “when the forest is silent, beware, it may be plotting”. Nigeria’s forests are no longer just a canopy of trees sheltering wildlife and whispering winds; they have become a theatre of terror. Armed bandits, kidnappers and insurgents have “discovered” what ancient wisdom already knew: that the forest is the perfect hideout. In response, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu has proposed a bold and ostensibly visionary plan, the deployment of a national forest guard corps. This move has since sparked hope, skepticism, and fierce federalism-versus-unitarism debates.

At the heart of this strategy is the ambition to reclaim over 1, 129 forest reserves scattered across Nigeria’s sprawling terrain, most of which now serve as havens for terrorists and criminal syndicates. With over 130,000 armed operatives to be recruited and deployed, it is easy to view this initiative as the long-overdue solution to Nigeria’s security woes. But this move is not just about logistics and boots in the bush; it is about sovereignty, legality, and local legitimacy. Is Tinubu’s forest guard plan a federal solution to a national emergency, or is it an ill-fated centralization of local security challenges, enabling the federal government to breath down the necks of State governments?

To answer this, we must examine the legal, constitutional, and operational frameworks of Tinubu’s initiative, evaluate historical precedents, and analyze the potential risks of imposing a federally controlled paramilitary force in forests that historically and legally belong to the states. We must also interrogate whether security can be bought with arms alone; or whether it grows from the grass roots up.

But before we venture into the thicket of policy and power, let us consider the context that birthed this proposal. Nigeria’s forests, which were once ecological sanctuaries, have gradually degenerated into lawless zones of bloodbath. The green expanse that should echo with bird calls and animal grunts now reverberate with gunfire. Insecurity in rural and agrarian communities has reached such alarming heights that farmers have virtually abandoned their lands, leading to food insecurity, economic stagnation, and mass displacement. The forests no longer nurture life; they generate death.

BETWEEN POLICY AND IMPLEMENTATION

The government’s decision to respond with a large-scale recruitment of forest guards may indeed seem intuitive, after all, it aligns with the global trend of ecological militarization in fragile states. Yet, the structure of implementation matters deeply. If the architecture of this plan disregards Nigeria’s federal nature, it risks exacerbating the very crisis it was intended to solve. Forests may be rooted in soil; but the guardianship of that soil is rooted in law, identity, and community ownership. The principle of quic quid plantatur solo solo cedit applies. Forest guards who do not share the language, culture, history or kinship of the terrains they are sent to police will surely be seen as outsiders. And such outsiders in the forest may become either victims or villains.

Furthermore, this proposal arrives at a critical moment in Nigeria’s democratic evolution. Debates over state and community policing, restructuring, devolution of powers and regional autonomy are no longer intellectual abstractions; they have become national imperatives. See sections 215 and 216 of the 1999 Constitution. Tinubu’s plan whether deliberately or inadvertently, intersects with these gaping fault lines. To superimpose a federally-managed forest force without recognizing the nuanced relationships between state, land and community is to risk uprooting fragile peace and replacing it with more severe antagonism.

Now, are we really a federation in truth or merely in name? I dare say what we operate in the guise of federalism is actually a unitary form of government. Can national unity be enforced through uniformed patrols, or is it better than it be cultivated through shared values and governance? As we delve deeper, the question is not just who guards the forest, but who decides who guards the forest, and in whose name. Indeed, a deeper question: Who will guard the Guard?

 

THE FOREST, THE FEDERALIST AND THE FEDERATION

CONSTITUTIONAL REALITIES: THE POWER OF THE STATES OVER FORESTS

In any federal system, the distribution of power especially over land and internal security is a defining hallmark. Nigeria’s federalism is no exception. The country’s current structure, codified under the 1999 Constitution (as amended), clearly delineates the powers of federal, state and local governments.See sections 2(2),3(1-6) of the 1999 Constitution. A close reading of section 7 and the Fourth Schedule ( paragraph 2( b) to the Constitution highlights the responsibilities of Local Government Councils, including the control and regulation of agricultural and natural resources and by extension, includes forest land not reserved to the Federal Government. This immediately places forests, by default, under the control of the states, unless specifically designated otherwise,since Local Governments are located in states.

Furthermore, the Land Use Act,1978, which is incorporated into the Constitution by reference (section 315), gives state governors control over all lands within their territory, excluding those under federal use, to hold them in trust for the people of their States. The Act empowers governors to allocate land in urban areas to individuals and organizations, and to oversee the use of non-urban land through Local Government Councils. Consequently, the direct implication is that any forest or land not classified under national parks, Federal Reserve zones, or military controlled areas, falls squarely under the jurisdiction of the state.

FEDERAL V. STATE POWER

Of Nigeria’s 1, 129 officially gazetted forest reserves, the vast majority are managed by state forestry departments under their ministries of agriculture, rural development or environment. These include large forest blocks in states like Cross River, Ondo, Ogun, Taraba, and Ekiti, many of which are vital to local economies, ecological sustainability, and food security. The federal government only controls forest areas designated as National Parks(such as Gashaka-Gumti National Park, Kainji Lake National Park, Cross River National Park, and Old Oyo National Park), administered under the National Park Service, an agency of the Federal Ministry of Environment.

Attempts to impose direct federal recruitment and control over forest guards in state-managed forests without legislative amendments or formal agreements risk violating both the spirit and letter of the law. Even within the federal legislative framework, forest policing is not explicitly listed on the Exclusive Legislative List, meaning that it falls under either the Concurrent List (shared responsibilities between the federal and states) or, in most practical scenarios, the Residual List, which is left to states’ discretion.

UNITARISM IN DISGUISE?: THE DANGER OF A FEDERAL PARAMILITARY FORCE

Unitarism masquerading as federal security cooperation is a deeply sensitive issue in Nigeria, where ethnic plurality, historical grievances, and political mistrust run deep. The idea that over 130,000 armed operatives could be centrally recruited, trained, and deployed under federal command while ostensibly operating within state territories is understandably alarming to many stakeholders. It evokes painful memories of other federally-controlled agencies that have operated with little or no regard for local dynamics and often with tragic consequences.

The Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) is a case in point. Established as a unit within the Nigeria Police Force, SARS was accused of gross human rights violations, including extra-judicial killings, torture, and extortion. Its federal command structure meant little accountability to state governments or communities. The #EndSARS protests of 2020, which began as youth-led demands for police reforms, quickly morphed into a broader call for systemic change, highlighting the dangers of over-centralized security control architecture.

Similarly, the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC), while useful in its community protection mandate, has often been accused of operational inefficiencies and jurisdictional clashes with state authorities. Cases of NSCDC operatives acting with impunity or engaging in power struggles with local law enforcement agents are well documented.

Against this backdrop, Tinubu’s forest guard plan raises critical concerns. How can a federal command effectively manage such a force across diverse terrains, languages, and cultures without falling into the same trap of over-centralization and under-accountability? What happens when these guards act outside the law, or when federal and state authorities disagree on deployment priorities? Who investigates complaints of misconduct, especially in remote rural areas? Who has the final say?

These questions are not merely theoretical. In countries with similar federal structures, such as India and the United States, forest protection and environmental policing are almost always handled at the state or provincial level, often under decentralized bureaucracies with state-specific laws and enforcement mechanisms. For instance, India’s Forest Protection Committees are embedded in local governance structures, while U.S. State Park Rangers operate independently of federal policing units unless specific interstate or federal crimes are involved.
Nigeria’s own federal structure should offer no less sophistication. The creation of another federal paramilitary force, especially one that operates deep in the natives’ forests without local allegiance or accountability, risks becoming not a solution but a security liability and worse, a political tool in the hands of a powerful centre.

INDIGENOUS SECURITY MODELS: THE CASE FOR LOCAL RECRUITMENT

The wisdom of local recruitment is both practical and cultural. Insecurity in Nigeria’s forests is not just about guns and patrols, it is about intelligence, relationships and trust. Bandits and criminal syndicates thrive in environments where locals are alienated from the security structure. Conversely, they are more easily repelled when local vigilantes, hunters and indigenous operatives form part of the security fabric.

The Nigerian Hunter and Forest Security Service (NHFSS), which operates across the 36 states and the FCT Abuja, provides a compelling model. Comprised largely of traditional hunters and forest dwellers, the NHFSS brings a unique blend of tactical expertise and cultural affinity. In states like Kogi, Kebbi and the FCT, NHFSS operatives have been instrumental in intercepting kidnap gangs, uncovering illegal encampments, and collaborating with security agencies. Their effectiveness is rooted not in superior weaponry, but in their deep understanding of their peculiar terrain, their loyalty to the community, and the trust they command from locals.

A retired Army General, Peter Aro, hailed the development as a critical step in addressing rising insecurity within Nigeria’s forested regions, particularly the scourge of banditry, kidnapping, and insurgency. Forest guards must possess field survival skills, terrain literacy, and community integration. These are not qualities one can mass-produce in Abuja through crash course training programmes. Furthermore, security should be intimately linked to traditional institutions, such as village heads, district councils, and traditional rulers, who provide crucial intelligence and moral authority.

Security analyst Chidi Omeje has also pointed out the danger of sending “fresh recruits with basic firearms” into forest zones where criminal elements are known to possess military-grade weapons. He advocates for a dual-layered model, where locally embedded forest guards work alongside the military and police but under local command structures.

There are also precedents for success. The Amotekun Corps in the South West, and the Benue Community Volunteer Guards, are examples of locally-driven initiatives that have shown promising results. While not without their challenges, these corps are better attuned to the local environment and have the legitimacy to act swiftly in ways that federal forces cannot.

Furthermore, a decentralized approach would stimulate local economies. Recruitment of indigenes provides employment, instills civic pride and strengthens the social contract bond. It also ensures that the guards see themselves as protectors, not as occupiers, a distinction that is vital in volatile communities where the line between security agent and aggressor is often thin.

In summary, while the federal government has a legitimate role in coordinating national responses to threats, its approach must be that of a facilitator, not a commander. Support through training, funding, surveillance technology (e.g., drones, forest mapping systems), and standard setting is invaluable. But command and control must remain at the state level, rooted in the soil, culture, language, idiosyncrasies and rhythms of the communities the guards are sworn to protect.

Between The Forest And The Firepower: Finding The Right Strategy

The Forest As Nigeria’s New Battlefield
Nigeria’s forests, once treasured for their ecological richness and environmental contributions, are increasingly viewed through the lens of national security. Spanning over 10 million hectares which is about 10% of the total land area of Nigeria, Nigeria’s forest reserves are now being infiltrated by violent actors and used as operational bases for bandits, insurgents, arms traffickers, and cross-border criminal networks. These reserves especially those in Kwara, Niger, Benue, Taraba, Zamfara, Kaduna, and Oyo have morphed into de facto war zones, where traditional policing is rendered ineffective and the military often finds itself in reactive mode.

One particularly troubling example is the Kainji Lake National Park, a protected area that spans the borders of Kwara and Niger States. Though it is officially under federal protection, its vast and difficult-to-monitor terrain makes it a prime corridor for terrorist and bandit movements. According to security reports from the Nigerian Army’s 8 Division, several armed groups have taken advantage of the park’s proximity to Nigeria’s northwestern and central states to establish hidden bases, smuggle arms, and coordinate attacks.

Similarly, the Old Oyo National Park, which straddles Oyo, Kwara, and Niger States, has become a hotspot for criminal activity. Local intelligence from communities surrounding the park indicates that bandit groups expelled from Zamfara and Katsina have found refuge in this forest. These criminal elements exploit the remoteness of the area and the absence of a permanent security presence to regroup and launch attacks on nearby settlements.

Beyond national parks, numerous ungazetted forests especially in the Middle Belt serve as strategic hideouts for Fulani militia groups, foreign mercenaries, and rogue elements linked to organized crime. In Benue State, Governor Hyacinth Alia has repeatedly warned of incursions by foreign terrorists, allegedly linked to cross-border herder militias. The Upper Ogun Forest Reserve, a large forest block in Kwara, has also come under scrutiny following reports that Mahmuda terrorist group members used it to transit between Nigeria and the Republic of Benin.

The implications of these developments are profound. Without forest security, Nigeria not only risks losing its forests to environmental degradation but also ceding large swaths of land to non-state actors, thus turning forest reserves into breeding grounds for violent extremism. Yet, while the urgency to act is undeniable now, the quality of response matters more than its speed.

Deploying undertrained or poorly equipped forest guards into these volatile environments would be akin to sending lambs into a lion’s den. The intelligence, terrain mastery, and firepower required in such engagements go far beyond the remit of conventional paramilitary forces. You cannot send men with shotguns into a forest ruled by terrorists with RPGs. This is not hyperbole, it is a stark reality, backed by recurring video evidence of bandits showcasing sophisticated weaponry, satellite communication tools, and, in some cases, armored vehicles.

Military Might Vs. Paramilitary Prowess: A Strategic Dilemma

At the heart of Nigeria’s forest security conundrum lies a fundamental strategic mismatch. On one side is the proposal to deploy lightly armed forest guards; on the other is a threat landscape populated by insurgent groups with military-grade capabilities. Nigeria remains one of the most affected countries by terrorism, with Boko Haram, ISWAP, and multiple bandit groups shifting focus from urban bombings to rural forest insurgency.

Reports confirm that many of these groups are now entrenched in forests stretching from Zamfara to Taraba, taking advantage of limited surveillance and sluggish security response. These criminal outfits reportedly employ rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs), improvised explosive devices (IEDs), drones and night-vision equipment, a sophisticated arsenal far superior to the basic AK-47s or pump-action rifles many forest guards are expected to wield. This power disparity raises a serious question: Can forest guards, even in significant numbers, hold their ground against such adversaries?

A Desirable Narrative

The answer, quite evidently, is no, at least not alone. This does not render the forest guard model irrelevant, but it necessitates a reimagining of their role. Forest guards should not be conceptualized as primary combatants but as intelligence operatives, terrain scouts, and first responders. Their role must be complementary, not confrontational, with local guards. Embedded within local communities, they are best positioned to detect unusual movements, provide early warnings, and assist in planning police or military interventions.

Such integration would mirror the highly successful model employed by the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) in the North-East, which supported the Nigerian military in combating Boko Haram. The CJTF did not go to war with terrorists alone. Rather, they provided community intelligence, identified suspects, and enabled smoother military operations.

The same should apply to forest guards. Deployed as community embedded liaisons, their greatest strength lies not in brute force but in proximity, familiarity, acculturation and adaptability. They must work in synergy with the local guards, Army, Police, DSS, and NSCDC, ensuring that information gathered at the grassroots level informs strategic planning at the federal level.

Another vital element is equipment and communication infrastructure. In many rural areas, mobile networks are poor, and emergency communication is non-existent. Forest guards should be equipped with satellite phones, GPS trackers, surveillance drones, and bodycams. Training must include combat survival, hostage negotiation, and tactical withdrawal protocols. It’s not enough to train them how to fight; they must also learn when, where and how not to fight.

The Path Forward: A True Federal Partnership

While President Tinubu’s forest guard initiative is ambitious and well-intentioned, its execution must be shaped by constitutional fidelity, operational pragmatism, and community trust. Nigeria’s diversity requires policies that are locally adaptive but nationally coordinated. A strategic roadmap should therefore include the following:

Legislative Reform and National Forest Security Act

This act should define the parameters of forest security across the federation. It must empower states to create, manage, and control forest guard units while providing room for federal assistance in the form of funding, training standards, and interoperability protocols with federal security services. The act should also clarify jurisdictional boundaries, ensuring there’s no operational conflict between federal and state forces.

Indigenous Recruitment and Decentralized Command

Only indigenous recruits, drawn from host communities, should serve in forest guard units. This principle ensures language proficiency, cultural awareness, and community acceptance. State governments, in partnership with local traditional rulers, should drive recruitment processes, with background checks vetted by local police and DSS operatives. This will mitigate risks of infiltration by criminal elements.

Technology-Driven Surveillance Infrastructure

Equipping forest guards with modern tools is not optional; it is imperative. Drone surveillance, motion-triggered cameras, satellite-linked walkie-talkies, and forest mapping systems should be deployed. The National Space Research and Development Agency (NASRDA) and Nigerian Communications Commission (NCC) can play a supporting role in developing and deploying such technologies.
Strategic Federal Support, Not Operational Control

The role of the Federal Ministry of Environment and Office of the National Security Adviser must be clearly coordinative, not administrative. Federal agencies should support states through centralized training academies, logistics depots, and intelligence sharing platforms, but the command structure should remain domiciled in state ministries or specially created state security commissions.

Community Accountability and Oversight Boards

Every state should establish Forest Guard Oversight Committees composed of community leaders, the youth, civil society groups, religious figures, and security agencies. These committees would track operations, address complaints, and ensure that forest guards act within the bounds of law and ethics. Regular town hall reports and audits should be mandated.

Integrate Environmental Protection and Counter-Insurgency Goals

One major flaw in Nigeria’s security strategy is the siloed approach to environmental policy and national security. The forest guard initiative offers a unique opportunity to bridge this divide. Forest guards should be cross-trained in both environmental protection and tactical field surveillance, thereby serving a dual purpose: preserving Nigeria’s biodiversity while countering environmental crimes that fund insurgent activities.

Illegal logging, poaching, and charcoal trading are multi-billion-naira black-market economies that fuel insecurity in rural areas. According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, environmental crimes in West Africa generate funds that are often funneled to criminal cartels and armed groups. A forest security force that understands these dynamics can better dismantle such networks.
It is imperative to partner with the Federal Ministry of Environment, Nigerian Conservation Foundation, and international organizations like UNEP to embed environmental crime detection into forest guard training modules.

Establish a Centralized Forest Intelligence Command

Given the complexity of forest based criminal operations and their links to wider terrorism and transnational crime, it is essential to build a dedicated forest intelligence infrastructure. This unit, the Centralized Forest Intelligence Command (CFIC), should be a joint inter-agency platform bringing together the Police, NCDC, DSS, Military Intelligence, Nigerian Immigration Service, local guards and Forest Guard Commanders from each state.

CFIC would use advanced tools such as geospatial intelligence (GEOINT), signals intelligence (SIGINT), and drone reconnaissance to provide real-time threat mapping, track insurgent movements, and anticipate forest-to-urban migration of threats. Such an initiative would vastly improve response time and prevent security breaches before they happen.
The CFIC should be integrated into Nigeria’s National Security Architecture under the supervision of the National Security Adviser, but operated through a state federal coordination model with joint personnel and interlinked command centres.

Promote Cross-Border Forest Security Cooperation

Given that Nigeria shares porous forest borders with Benin Republic, Niger, Chad, and Cameroon, it is vital to recognize the transnational dimension of forest insecurity. Bandits and militants frequently move across these borders, exploiting weak surveillance and diplomatic inertia.

Nigeria must lead in establishing a Regional Forest Security Pact in collaboration with ECOWAS and the African Union (AU) security platforms. This pact would promote joint patrols, shared intelligence, coordinated raids, and the establishment of joint forest monitoring stations in border regions like Borno, Taraba, Cross River, and Sokoto.

The Ministry of Foreign Affairs should work with ECOWAS to initiate bilateral and multilateral forest security agreements, underpinned by joint training programs and extradition protocols for forest-based offenders.

Conclusion

Where The Trees Stand Tall, So Too Must The Constitution

In the final analysis, Nigeria’s forest guard initiative under President Bola Tinubu offers more than just a policy experiment; it presents a litmus test for the country’s commitment to federalism, local empowerment, administration and smart security strategy. The forests in question may be dense with trees, but the issues surrounding them are denser still: constitutional authority, operational viability, regional identity, and national unity.

We have seen how the forests have evolved from mere ecological zones into the dark sanctuaries of insurgents, traffickers, and mercenaries. We have seen how well meaning central interventions, if not delicately structured, can become bulldozers flattening both local agency and constitutional principles. And we have seen how a locally grounded, technologically equipped, and constitutionally-compliant model can actually work transforming the forest guard idea from a controversial headline into a security legacy.

But let us be clear, you do not fix a leaky roof by installing a chandelier. You do not solve rural insecurity with a flood of centrally deployed gunmen unfamiliar with the peculiar terrain or the tongues spoken therein. Instead, Nigeria must adopt a model that blends local trust with federal muscle, traditional knowledge with modern technology, and constitutional wisdom with operational pragmatism.

The forest is watching, as are the communities who live by it, feed from it, and now fear it. Let us ensure that the guardians we appoint are not strangers in camouflage, but sons and daughters of the soil; trained, trusted, and tethered to the trees they are sworn to protect. After all, if we cannot see the forest for the law, we may end up losing both. And in that case, the trees would not be the only casualty left standing in silence; our Democracy may also be.

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The Oracle

The Oracle: When a Nation Undermines Citizens’ Rights (Pt. 4)

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By Prof .Ike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

In our last outing on this treatise, we addressed the operational weaknesses and structural mismanagement of the Police; the failure of internal accountability; collusion of its men with criminal networks; erosion of civil liberties by its illegitimate enforcement practices; and cycle of impunity. And later followed by analysis of the abuse of judicial power as well as executive lawlessness directed at the Bench. We then concluded with suggested pathways and recommendations. Today, we shall continue with the same theme focusing on strengthening judicial independence; institutionalizing a comprehensive anti-corruption framework; enhancing the protection of civil liberties; community-based security initiatives; electoral integrity; transparency in the public sector; protecting vulnerable and marginalized groups as well as institutionalizing a culture of consequences. Enjoy.

Judicial Strengthening and Independence
The Judiciary should be insulated from political interference through secure tenure, adequate remuneration, and independent budgetary control. Court processes must be digitized to reduce delays and enhance transparency. Special courts should be created to fast-track cases of corruption, rights violations, and electoral offences so as to prevent them from being lost in a backlog of other matters.

Comprehensive Anti-Corruption Framework
Anti-corruption agencies must operate without political bias. Investigations and prosecutions should be based solely on evidence, regardless of the political or social standing of the suspect. Asset recovery processes should be transparent, and recovered funds must be channeled directly into public services such as healthcare, education, and infrastructure.

Strengthening of Civil Liberties Protections
Security laws and policies must be reviewed to remove provisions that allow arbitrary arrests, prolonged detention without trial, and excessive surveillance. The rights to free expression, peaceful assembly, and privacy should be reaffirmed through legislation, judicial precedent, and administrative directives. Security personnel should receive specific training on respecting these rights in the course of their duties.

Enhanced Community-Based Security Initiatives

Community policing structures should be developed in partnership with local stakeholders, including traditional leaders, civil society, and youth groups. These initiatives should focus on early conflict detection, intelligence sharing, and non-violent dispute resolution. Proper integration of community policing into the national security architecture can improve trust and cooperation between citizens and the State.

Electoral Integrity and Protection of the Political Process

To reduce politically motivated violence, security forces must adopt a neutral stance in elections and enforce the law impartially. Electoral offenders, including those within security agencies, must face swift prosecution. The deployment of technology in elections, such as biometric verification, should be protected by strong legal safeguards to prevent manipulation. More importantly, the Electoral Act must be urgently amended to include the use of BIVAS, electronic voting and real time transfer of results into IReV.

Public Sector Transparency and Open Data
Transparency in governance can significantly reduce opportunities for abuse of power. All government agencies should be required to publish regular reports on budgets, procurement, and performance indicators. Public access to information should be enhanced through stronger Freedom of Information laws and proactive disclosure of records.

Protection of Vulnerable and Marginalized Groups

Special attention should be given to protecting women, children, marginalized vulnerable persons and minorities and communities, who are disproportionately affected by rights violations and insecurity. Law enforcement and judicial olicers should be trained to handle cases involving such vulnerable groups with sensitivity. Dedicated units within security agencies should be tasked with preventing and responding to gender-based violence, child labour, human trafficking and exploitation.

Institutionalizing a Culture of Consequence
The single most important factor in ending impunity is ensuring that misconduct always attracts consequences. Disciplinary actions, criminal prosecutions and public reporting of case outcomes should become the norm. Political leaders must set the example by submitting themselves to the rule of law. They must lead by example and not by precepts.

CONCLUSION

The challenges confronting Nigeria in the areas of security, protection of citizens’ rights and enforcement of the rule of law are deeply rooted in a pattern of institutional neglect and governance failure. Throughout this work, it has become evident that insecurity in the country is not only result of violent crime or terrorism but also a product of weak and compromised institutions that allow such threats to flourish. When the very institutions tasked with safeguarding the people become unreliable or complicit, the result is a petrified environment where justice is selective, rights are precarious, and the social contract between citizens and the State is broken.

The evidence is clear that insecurity in Nigeria is a multi-dimensional crisis. Political violence undermines democratic processes. Economic hardship is exacerbated by corruption and the diversion of resources. Physical insecurity in many regions persists because law enforcement is either absent or compromised. The deterioration of education and healthcare further exposes the population to long-term instability. Each of these problems is interconnected and magnified by the failure of the justice and enforcement systems to function impartially and effectively.

Civil liberties, guaranteed by the Constitution and supported by international treaties, are repeatedly undermined by arbitrary arrests, unlawful detentions, and the suppression of free expression. When citizens live in fear of those entrusted to protect them, the legitimacy of the State is called into question. A society where speaking out invites retaliation and where wrongdoing by the powerful is met with silence or even approbation cannot claim to uphold the principles of democracy and justice.

The normalization of impunity is perhaps the most dangerous of all the trends identified. Impunity corrodes public trust, emboldens offenders, and creates a culture where breaking the law is not an aberration but an accepted norm of political and social life. Without decisive action to reverse this culture, every other reform will be weakened before it begins to take root.

Nigeria’s peculiar security realities demand a holistic approach. This includes rebuilding law enforcement into a professional, rights-respecting institution, ensuring the judiciary is free from political interference, and creating genuine accountability mechanisms that apply to everyone regardless of status. It also requires an investment in transparency, community trust, and the protection of vulnerable groups who suffer most from both insecurity and rights violations.

The task is undeniably challenging, but it is not impossible. The pathway to a more secure and just Nigeria begins with the recognition that true security cannot exist without justice, and justice cannot thrive without the rule of law. By committing to comprehensive reforms and by holding both leaders and institutions accountable, Nigeria can reclaim the promise of a society where rights are protected, laws are respected, and security is the shared foundation for national progress. In all these, one may ask, where is the Bar and what is its historic role? A once vibrant Association feared by the corrupt and dreaded by all successive governments has since become comatose, hardly responsive to societal needs. Aside many lawyers now professionally practising Bar instead of practising law by oscillating from one office to another over a period of decades, what has the Bar got to show for its continued relevance in terms of interrogating the status quo and challenging impunity? How has the Bar fared in holding governments responsible and accountable to the Nigerian people? Aside converging every year at designated venues for the annual ritual of the AGC, what dividends have we yielded from our usual banal communiqué?

How have we pushed to ensure we engaged the three arms of government to overhaul or at least improve on the status quo? Can we now blame some lawyers who are increasingly feeling disenchanted with the status quo and seek alternative platforms such as the Nigerian Law Society (NLS)? I think not. Colleagues, let us as lawyers and Judges wake up from our deep slumber of complicit silence and stop seeing law solely as a bread-and -butter profession. We must see law from the prism of Professor Dean Roscoe Pound-an instrument of social engineering. Anything short of this is not befitting of the legal profession. (Concluded).

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

“We cannot reform institutional racism or systemic policies if we are not actively engaged. It’s not enough to simply complain about injustice; the only way to prevent future injustice is to create the society we would like to see, one where we are all equal under the law”. (Al Sharpton).

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The Oracle

The Oracle: When a Nation Undermines Citizens’ Rights (Pt. 3)

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By Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

The last installment of this series continued from where the inaugural one stopped: the analogy of each corpse buried without justice being a clause in the Constitution buried in effigy. It then explained how inequality breeds violence, before moving onto how systemic lapses in law enforcement is the hidden engine of insecurity and erosion of rights. Later, it examined the contrast between constitutional mandate and institutional reality, followed by the politicization and weaponization of law enforcement; corruption as operational culture; and finally operational weaknesses and structural management. The week, we shall continue with same theme, after which we shall delve into the failure of internal accountability; collusion with criminal networks; erosion of civil liberties through enforcement practices; the cycle of impunity; abuse of judicial power and executive lawlessness targeted at the Bench. Thereafter, we shall consider various pathways and recommendations for addressing insecurity, rights protection and institutional weakness. Enjoy.

OPERATIONAL WEAKNESSES AND STRUCTURAL MISMANAGEMENT

Nigeria’s police-to-population ratio remains alarmingly low. With about 371,800 officers serving a population of over 236 million people, the country is well below the United Nations’ recommended benchmark of 222 officers per 100,000 people. This manpower gap severely hampers the Force’s capacity to tackle crime, especially in volatile areas plagued by insurgency and communal violence. To make matters worse, many of the limited officers available are deployed to safeguard high-profile politicians and elites rather than serving the broader public. In rural communities, especially in conflict-affected northern states, residents report waiting hours, sometimes days, for police to respond to distress calls, if they ever respond at all.

Compounding this problem is inadequate training. Many recruits receive minimal exposure to forensic methods, human rights protocols, or community policing principles. As a result, investigative work relies heavily on confessions, which are frequently extracted through coercion or torture. This not only violates constitutional guarantees against inhuman treatment but also produces unreliable evidence that weakens prosecutions.

Logistical deficits are equally damaging. Many police divisions operate without functioning patrol vehicles, secure communication equipment, or modern crime labs. The Inspector General of Police has acknowledged that, outside of Lagos, forensic capability is virtually non-existent. Without scientific investigation, crimes are either left unsolved or result in wrongful arrests, further undermining public trust

FAILURE OF INTERNAL ACCOUNTABILITY

In a functioning democracy, law enforcement personnel are subject to robust oversight, both internally and through independent bodies. In Nigeria, oversight mechanisms exist in name but not in consistent practice. The Police Service Commission (PSC), which is meant to handle recruitment, promotion, and discipline, is itself politically influenced and suffers from inadequate funding. Complaints of misconduct often disappear into opaque disciplinary processes, and there is little transparency about the outcomes.

When abuses are too public to ignore, as with the October 2020 End SARS protests, Commissions of Inquiry are established, testimonies are heard, and reports are submitted. Yet, implementation of recommendations remains rare. In Lagos, for example, despite the panel’s findings implicating specific officers in excessive force and unlawful killings, few have been prosecuted. Instead, many have returned quietly to duty. This pattern sends a dangerous message to the rank-and-file officers: violations carry reputational risk but rarely legal consequence.

COLLUSION WITH CRIMINAL NETWORKS

Perhaps the most alarming dimension of enforcement failure is the documented collusion between security personnel and criminal actors. In the Niger Delta, security forces have been implicated in illegal oil bunkering, the very crime they are deployed to prevent. In parts of the North-West, reports from Amnesty International and local media allege that bandit groups pay “protection fees” to avoid military or police raids.

Such collusion transforms law enforcement from an adversary of crime into a stakeholder in it. This is not merely passive negligence; it is active participation in the shadow economy of insecurity. In these areas, communities quickly learn that reporting crimes may not only be futile but dangerous, as information shared with authorities can be leaked to perpetrators.

EROSION OF CIVIL LIBERTIES THROUGH ENFORCEMENT PRACTICES

The systemic lapses in law enforcement also directly erode civil liberties. Arbitrary arrests, prolonged detentions without trial, suppression of lawful assembly, and harassment of journalists are not isolated acts but part of an entrenched enforcement culture. The constitutional right to personal liberty under Section 35 is regularly violated under the guise of maintaining public order.

Protesters face preemptive crackdowns, often justified by vague references to national security. During the #Revolution Now protests in 2019, dozens of demonstrators were detained, some for weeks, without formal charges. In many cases, court orders for their release were ignored by security agencies, underscoring the absence of legal consequence for disobedience of judicial authority.
This disregard for civil liberties creates a chilling effect on political participation and civic engagement. Citizens learn that speaking out carries personal risk, and self-censorship becomes a survival strategy. Over time, this quietens public dissent, enabling further abuses by both government and non-state actors.

THE CYCLE OF IMPUNITY

The combination of politicization, corruption, operational weakness, and lack of accountability feeds into a self-reinforcing cycle of impunity. Officers learn that their actions are judged not by legality but by political expediency. Politicians, in turn, see law enforcement as a tool to protect themselves and punish adversaries. Criminal networks exploit these gaps, securing protection through bribery or political patronage.

Once entrenched, this cycle is difficult to break. Each unpunished violation becomes a precedent, normalizing the idea that power grants immunity from the law. This normalization spreads beyond law enforcement to other institutions, eroding the very foundations of democratic governance.

THE ABUSE OF JUDICIAL POWER AND EXECUTIVE LAWLESSNESS AGAINST THE BENCH

In a functioning democracy, the judiciary serves as the impartial referee between the powerful and the powerless. It is the last line of defence for the citizen and the final hope for justice. But what happens when that sacred institution itself becomes the object of aggression? What happens when the enforcers of state power turn their weapons not on criminals, but on the judges who interpret the law? Nigeria confronted these very questions in October 2016, when the homes of senior judges across the country were invaded by heavily armed operatives of the Department of State Services under the cover of night.

These raids, carried out in Abuja, Gombe, and Port Harcourt, targeted some of the most senior members of the judiciary, including Justices Walter Onnoghen and Sylvester Ngwuta of the Supreme Court, and Federal High Court judges Adeniyi Ademola and Nnamdi Dimgba. The DSS claimed they were investigating corruption, yet their conduct betrayed a more sinister motive. Homes were stormed in Gestapo fashion, judges were treated like fugitives, and search warrants reportedly carried incorrect names or were not presented at all. The judiciary was under siege. In Rivers State, Governor Nyesom Wike arrived at the residence of one of the judges to intervene and was reportedly shoved, injured, and threatened by DSS operatives. It was not an arrest. It was a constitutional assault.

I spoke firmly and publicly against this invasion. I said then what I still affirm now: the DSS acted outside the bounds of the law. As I told journalists and as reported by Premium Times, the operation was not only illegal and unconstitutional but a dangerous desecration of the rule of law. No agency of government, including the DSS, has the authority to arrest or search the premises of serving judicial officers without going through the National Judicial Council, which is constitutionally empowered to discipline judges. If there are allegations of corruption, there is a process. That process was willfully ignored. What we saw instead was a show of force meant to intimidate and humiliate. It was executive lawlessness under the guise of anti-corruption.

The greatest tragedy, however, was not merely that these events occurred. It was the manner in which they were received. The Bar, which ought to have risen as a united force, was sluggish in its response. Statements were issued, but no real action followed. There were no mass protests, no urgent court filings to challenge the illegality. The judiciary itself offered little more than murmurs of disapproval. That silence was deafening. It spoke to a larger issue: the slow death of institutional courage. When judges are raided in their homes and lawyers look away, then the entire legal profession stands indicted. If we cannot defend our own, how then can we defend the people?

This unfortunate episode also calls into question the internal health of the judiciary. The Nigerian Law Society recently criticized the widespread abuse of power within judicial institutions, pointing to opaque appointments, poor welfare, and inconsistent rulings. According to their statement reported by the Guardian, the lower courts remain underpaid and under-respected, leaving many judicial officers vulnerable to compromise. It is undeniable that some within the judiciary have failed in their duties, and that corruption has indeed crept into its chambers. However, even in the face of that, the remedy is never brute force. It is lawful accountability, constitutional procedure, and institutional reform. The rule of law must never be sacrificed on the altar of expediency.
When security agents raid the homes of judges without due process, they are not upholding the law, they are undermining it. And when the legal community reacts with silence or justification, it invites a repeat. What began with judges will not end there. Such violations set a precedent that can easily extend to journalists, lawmakers, academics, and eventually, ordinary citizens. Today it is the gavel. Tomorrow it will be the pen, the vote, the voice. That is how authoritarianism begins not always with a declaration, but often with silence.

It is not too late to reset the balance. But we must remember that a judiciary that submits to fear is no judiciary at all. A legal profession that only whispers in the face of injustice is unworthy of its robes. We must return to our roots, as defenders of liberty and protectors of due process. Let the judiciary regain its independence, and let the Bar reclaim its courage. Only then can we begin to restore the broken faith between the Nigerian people and the system that was meant to serve them.

PATHWAYS AND RECOMMENDATIONS FOR ADDRESSING SECURITY, RIGHTS PROTECTION, AND INSTITUTIONAL WEAKNESS IN NIGERIA

The challenges outlined in this paper reveal a complex web of governance failures, enforcement gaps and systemic disregard for constitutional rights. Addressing these issues requires deliberate and sustained action across multiple fronts. The following ten pathways provide a practical blueprint for reform.

Reform of Law Enforcement Institutions
The Nigerian Police Force, the Department of State Services, and related agencies need deep structural reforms. Recruitment should be based on merit and integrity rather than political patronage. Training should include human rights education, forensic investigation, and conflict-sensitive community policing. The practice of diverting a large proportion of officers to serve political elites must be stopped so that policing resources are redirected toward public safety.

Creation of Independent Oversight and Accountability Mechanisms

A civilian-led oversight authority should be established with the power to investigate and prosecute cases of misconduct by law enforcement officials. This body must have full access to records, the ability to compel testimony, and legal safeguards for whistleblowers. Its findings should be made public to ensure transparency and build trust. (To be continued).

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

“Money and corruption are ruining the land, crooked politicians betray the working man, pocketing the profits and treating us like sheep, and we’re tired of hearing promises that we know they’ll never keep” – Ray Davies

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The Oracle

The Oracle: When a Nation Undermines Citizens’ Rights (Pt. 2)

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By Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN

INTRODUCTION

The inaugural installment of this treatise dealt with the scope of insecurity in Nigeria and examined its dimensions. It was followed by a discussion of the constitutional framework of the right to life graphically depicting it as “each corpse buried without justice” being a clause in the Constitution burned in effigy.

This week’s episode will continue with same theme, followed by an in-depth analysis of how inequality breeds violence as well as how systemic lapses in law enforcement are the hidden drivers of insecurity and the erosion of rights. Thereafter, we shall discuss the contrast between constitutional mandate and institutional reality of law enforcement; its politicization and weaponization; the incidence of corruption as operational culture in law enforcement and its inherent operational weakness and challenges in its structural management. Enjoy.

EACH CORPSE BURIED WITHOUT JUSTICE IS A CLAUSE OF THE CONSTITUTION BURNED IN EFFIGY (Continues).

Even the criminal justice system, meant to operationalize the Constitution, has virtually collapsed into spectacle. The police extort with impunity. The courts delay justice until justice becomes irrelevant. Prisons overflow with awaiting trial inmates while politicians accused of looting billions of our common patrimony stroll freely through airport lounges, attending graduation events where they are conferred with purchased honorary doctorate degrees. A man who steals bread is lynched. A senator who steals a nation is given a chieftaincy title. Is this the rule of law, or the rule of rot?

Let us not forget Chapter II of the Constitution, the so-called Directive Principles of State Policy. These are the clauses that outline a vision for a just and egalitarian society free education, affordable healthcare, equal opportunity, protection of the vulnerable, decent wages, access to housing, food security, and the equitable distribution of national wealth. But here lies the deception: these provisions are rendered non-justiciable under Section 6(6)(c). In plain terms, they are promises the people cannot enforce. The Constitution dreams on their behalf, but denies them the legal means to wake that dream into action.

When a State says to its citizens, “we guarantee you food, education, and health,” and then adds a footnote saying, “but you may not ask us for it,” what emerges is not democracy it is deception. And deception is the mother of despair. Despair, when left to fester, breeds defiance. And defiance, when met without justice, becomes insurrection. That is the cycle Nigeria is now trapped in a spiral of constitutional promises turned into societal wounds.

The Constitution becomes a parody in the mouths of politicians who have never read it and judges who are too timid to enforce it. For the powerful, it is a shield; for the poor, a sword turned inward. The elite recite its sections during legal battles over electoral fraud. But where are these recitations when 652 children die of hunger in Katsina? Where are the legal arguments when a woman in Makurdi loses all her children to a communal massacre? When the man in Sokoto can no longer afford petrol, food, or peace of mind, what legal relief can he seek?

It is also worth noting the performative constitutionalism that plagues Nigeria’s legislative process. Lawmakers gather to amend the Constitution every four years like surgeons with blunt scalpels. They debate the minutiae of electoral timelines, federal character quotas, and party primaries. But no one rises to demand justiciability for Chapter II. No one proposes constitutional protections for internally displaced persons. No one fights to enshrine the right to a living wage. They adjust the frame while the house is on fire.

In the final analysis, a Constitution that cannot be felt in the body of the poor, in the belly of the child, in the safety of the mother, and in the labour of the working man, is a document not of power but of pretense. A parchment without protection. A creed without consequence.

Yet, it is not too late. What is written may still be made flesh. But first, we must acknowledge the gap. We must look the failure in the face and name it for what it is: a breach of trust, a betrayal of covenant, a blood-soaked irony. For the Constitution, like the prophets of old, still cries out: “Will you honour me with your lips and deny me with your deeds?” The answer, for now is a crass denial of deeds.

HOW INEQUALITY BREEDS VIOLENCE

Poverty is not just a condition; it is an accelerant of conflict. There is a direct and growing body of empirical evidence linking economic inequality with national insecurity. A 2024 study revealed that in Benue State, each 1% rise in insecurity led to a 0.211% drop in crop production and a 0.311% drop in livestock output. This data translates into a disturbing truth: insecurity is not only the consequence of poverty it is its co-creator. In rural communities, farmers flee their land not because of market pressures, but because of fear of bandits, herdsmen, and armed militias who now prowl agricultural heartlands, maiming, killing, raping and burning.

In the same year, Reuters reported that over 31 million Nigerians nearly 15% of the population were pushed into acute food insecurity, largely due to a combination of rising prices, mass displacement, and insecurity in farming regions. Nigeria, once a net food exporter, is now reliant on imports for survival. This is not just an economic regression; it is a national humiliation, a betrayal of the very right to life itself.

Without access to these basic social services, rights such as freedom of expression, political participation, and even the right to vote become illusory. The weaponization of poverty in Nigeria is not simply an unfortunate byproduct of mismanagement. It is a system. A structure. A design. It is the very architecture of modern power. In this architecture, deprivation is used to secure obedience, silence dissent, and eliminate competition. The economically excluded are not merely poor they are disempowered, voiceless, and disposable. That is the Stalin philosophy: impoverish and demean the people and their obedience is guaranteed in the form of Stockholm Syndrome.

This is a direct affront to the Constitution, which promises in its Preamble to promote “the welfare of the people.” It is a betrayal of the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, ratified by Nigeria, which enshrines the right of all peoples to the satisfaction of economic, social and cultural rights essential to development (Article 22). It is a violation of the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals, especially Goal 1 (No Poverty) and Goal 10 (Reduced Inequality).

SYSTEMIC LAPSES IN LAW ENFORCEMENT: THE HIDDEN ENGINE OF INSECURITY AND RIGHTS EROSION

The crisis of insecurity in Nigeria cannot be understood without confronting the institutional collapse of its law enforcement architecture. While terrorism, banditry and economic collapse dominate headlines, these phenomena are but symptoms; the underlying illness is a chronic and systemic failure of the bodies meant to enforce the law. This failure is not simply operational, a matter of inadequate equipment or insufficient manpower, it is structural, political, and cultural. It shapes the relationship between the citizen and the State, corrodes the rule of law, and serves as the silent engine powering the erosion of civil liberties and the normalization of impunity.

CONSTITUTIONAL MANDATE VS. INSTITUTIONAL REALITY

Under Section 214 of the 1999 Constitution, the Nigeria Police Force (NPF) is established “for the maintenance of law and order, and for the protection of lives and property.” Supplementary security agencies such as the Department of State Services (DSS), Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC), and specialized military units exist to support this mandate. In theory, these agencies stand as the custodians of safety and justice, sworn to uphold both constitutional rights and statutory law.

In practice however, these institutions are often the very conduit pipes through which laws are brazenly violated. The gulf between the constitutional ideal and the operational reality is vast. A system intended to serve the people now often serves power, wealth and political expediency against the very people. The principle of equality before the law has been replaced by a hierarchy of enforcement, where the reach and rigour of the law depend on the identity of the suspect.

POLITICIZATION AND WEAPONIZATION OF LAW ENFORCEMENT

One of the most corrosive dynamics in Nigerian policing is its politicization. Rather than functioning as neutral enforcers of the law, security agencies are frequently deployed as instruments of partisan advantage. Opposition protests are met with rapid deployment of armed police, teargas and mass arrests. In contrast, political rallies for ruling party figures proceed with minimal security interference, but with reinforced security protection even when they breach public safety and order regulations.

This political double standard is not a matter of perception alone; it is reality evidenced by documented patterns. During the 2019 and 2023 general elections, numerous observers including the Transition Monitoring Group and international missions reported instances where law enforcement personnel either failed to intervene during ballot snatching episodes, or were directly complicit. Police units habitually provide cover for armed gangs removing election materials. In many of such cases, no officers have been disciplined, further embedding the perception that law enforcement loyalty is to political patrons, not the law or the country.

The politicization extends beyond elections. Journalists investigating corruption or security failings have been arrested and detained under dubious charges, often invoking broadly worded laws such as the Cybercrimes Act or Terrorism Prevention Act. Meanwhile, known political figures implicated in large-scale embezzlement routinely enjoy “soft landing” agreements or indefinite delays in prosecution.

CORRUPTION AS OPERATIONAL CULTURE

Corruption within Nigerian law enforcement is neither sporadic nor isolated; it is systemic. The 2019 Global corruption Barometer for Africa found that Nigerians rate the police the most corrupt institution in the country. Half of those surveyed reported paying a bribe to the police in the previous 12 months.

This corruption operates at multiple levels. At street level, officers extort motorists at checkpoints, detain individuals without charge to compel “bail” payments, and demand fees before registering complaints. At higher levels, investigators may bury case files in exchange for cash; prosecutors may dilute charges; and senior officers may shield their subordinates from accountability if they share in illicit proceeds.

Even operational deployments are shaped by rent-seeking. Officers are routinely assigned to guard private residences, businesses and political figures for unofficial payments, leaving ordinary citizens with limited police presence in their communities. This practice distorts the deployment of resources, creating a policing landscape where protection is essentially commodified.

OPERATIONAL WEAKNESSES AND STRUCTURAL MISMANAGEMENT

Nigeria’s police-to-population ratio remains alarmingly low. With about 371,800 officers serving a population of over 236 million people, the country is well below the United Nations’ recommended benchmark of 222 officers per 100,000 people. This manpower gap severely hampers the Force’s capacity to tackle crime, especially in volatile areas plagued by insurgency and communal violence. To make matters worse, many of the limited officers available are deployed to safeguard high-profile politicians and elites rather than serving the broader public. In rural communities, especially in conflict-affected northern states, residents report waiting hours, sometimes days, for police to respond to distress calls, if they ever respond at all. (To be continued).

THOUGHT FOR THE WEEK

“Money and corruption are ruining the land, crooked politicians betray the working man, pocketing the profits and treating us like sheep, and we’re tired of hearing promises that we know they’ll never keep”. (Ray Davies).

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