Tinubu’s Emergency Security Proclamation: Turning Point or Talking Point?

Tinubu’s Emergency Security Proclamation: Turning Point or Talking Point?

By Capt. Bishop C. Johnson, US Army (rtd)

Nigeria has been described by several internationally reputable organizations as one of the most terrorized nations on earth—ranked in tiers comparable to, and in some indices worse than, countries in perpetual war and terrorist-infested and led by terrorists such as Afghanistan. For nearly two decades, citizens have lived under relentless torment from all directions. From remote rural communities to major urban centers, from East to West, and from North to South, nowhere has been truly safe. Even the privacy of homes—supposed to be a sanctuary of rest and refuge—has become fragile and dangerous. Nigerians are not safe indoors, and they are not safe outdoors.

The sanctity of the home has eroded. A space meant for rest is now a place where danger often lurks in the shadows. Outside the home, the threat becomes even more pronounced. Farmers walk to their fields unsure if they will ever return home alive. Many have been hacked to death or kidnapped while merely trying to feed their families. Places of worship—mosques, churches, shrines—have become as vulnerable as active warfronts. Classrooms—the supposed sanctuaries of innocent children—are now among the most dangerous and deadliest spaces on earth. Traveling by road or waterways has become a perilous gamble and an unimaginable nightmare, overshadowed by the constant fear of abduction or murder. Even the aviation sector has not been spared, with recorded attempts to target aircraft using shoulder-launched missiles and infrared lights aimed directly at pilots to force aircraft down.

For more than a decade, Nigeria has learned a bitter but profound lesson: everything depends on security. When security collapses, every other sector collapses—education, agriculture, transport, commerce, healthcare, and governance itself. It is against this grim backdrop that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s declaration of a State of Emergency on national security stands out as a bold, significant, and historic step. Not since the current wave of terrorism and criminality began has any administration taken such a formal and decisive stand. By doing so, President Tinubu has again placed his hand on the arc of history and attempted to bend it toward the possibility of a safer, more stable and better nation.

Yet Nigeria’s problem has never been a shortage of ideas. The solutions to Nigeria’s insecurity have long been identified and documented in numerous reports—reports now gathering dust in the bureaucratic labyrinth of the nation’s complex administrative ecosystem. Nigeria also does not lack laws; in fact, the country likely has more statutes on its books than many functioning democracies. This is why it is difficult to understand the recurring calls by some legislators for “stronger anti-kidnapping laws,” including the death penalty. Such calls miss the point entirely.

The problem has never been the severity of punishments; it has been the complete absence of implementation. How do you execute kidnappers when you cannot even arrest them? Each time a kidnapped victim is rescued, Nigerians rarely hear of any mastermind, financier, collaborator, or field operative apprehended. The issue is not insufficient legal instruments. The issue is weak law enforcement, compromised institutions, and a deeply entrenched network of powerful actors benefiting from the lucrative business of insecurity.

This brings the conversation to the central issue: political will.

In Nigeria’s context, political will is the courage of leadership to confront entrenched interests—those powerful individuals, whether politicians, traditional power brokers, rogue security personnel, or economic profiteers—who feed fat on the enterprise of insecurity. It means making hard decisions without fear of losing allies, privileges, or political capital. Globally, political will is the defining quality of leaders who take action where others hesitate: enforcing laws, pursuing justice, refusing to negotiate with criminal networks, and placing national interest above personal or political convenience.

President Tinubu deserves commendation for drawing national attention to the spiraling insecurity afflicting the country. The real question, however, is: what follows the declaration? If the President can summon and sustain the level of political will required—especially in a sector polluted by the involvement of powerful individuals, including those embedded within government, security agencies, intelligence units, and law-enforcement institutions—then even if this becomes the singular major achievement of his administration, history will judge him kindly. Nigerians will remember him as the President who confronted the monster of insecurity head-on.

But Nigerians expect more. They believe he can “walk and chew gum at the same time.” They expect him to reform the economy, stabilize governance, strengthen institutions, restore public confidence, and deliver development—while rebuilding the security architecture. This moment presents the President with an opportunity to define his legacy in a way no policy document or political rhetoric can.

The declaration of a national security emergency is a necessary first step. Yet what comes next is more important as that will determine whether Nigeria continues to walk in fear or finally embarks on a journey out of the darkness.

For the emergency declaration to succeed, the President must step outside the comfort of the presidential enclave. Some of those who currently advise him—those shaping security memoranda, strategic directives, and policy briefings—may themselves be part of the syndicated cartel orchestrating and benefiting from insecurity. It is crucial that he hears directly from the people.

Mr President, please hear this clearly: if your emergency declaration on security is to succeed, the answer is not to throw more and more money at the problem. That is exactly what the profiteers want. They will advise you to release more funds for this and that—funds that never reach their intended destination or are deployed haphazardly, with the rest quietly pocketed. The real solution, Mr President, is to demand accountability for the trillions already poured into fighting insecurity over the decades—funds that have turned some politicians and top security personnel into modern-day billionaires.

It is my painful submission that insecurity in Nigeria has become a humongous money-spinner for elements within the top military and political echelons. Governors clamour for more security votes; legislators benefit from pretentious oversight kickbacks; and senior military, intelligence, and law-enforcement officers inflate procurement processes for personal gain. The mechanics of this corruption flow in direct proportion to the scale of insecurity. In simple terms: the more the killings, the more the profit. And so, these actors engineer, enable, or exploit every possible plot under the sun to ensure the insecurity persists in perpetuity. This is tragic. Worse still, these blood sucking vampires and demons have created the false national narrative that Nigeria’s security crisis is too complex, too sophisticated, too hopeless to solve. It is neither. The idea is to attract more and more funds to themselves. The more humongous they make the problem seem, the more money in their pockets.

If the President truly wants to succeed, he must engage citizens without bureaucratic filters. He should meet journalists in formal and informal settings, field questions directly, and listen to undiluted stories of lived experiences. He should sit with civil society organizations, professional bodies such as the Nigerian Bar Association, Nigerian Medical Association, Nigerian Union of Teachers, market leaders, transport workers, students, and others who stand on the frontlines of Nigeria’s security crisis. And yes, he should also listen to people like us—those who genuinely mean well for him and wish him to succeed, because when he succeeds, the nation benefits. That is why I take time to put words on paper, hoping and believing that they will reach him.

Our voices—unfiltered, raw, and authentic—are indispensable. Our testimonies offer insights that no security brief or intelligence memo can fully capture.

If President Bola Ahmed Tinubu truly intends for this national security emergency to mark a turning point, then Nigeria must witness not just a policy declaration but a governing philosophy anchored on sincerity, accountability, courage, and people-centered leadership. Only then can the long night of fear begin to recede, and the dawn of a safer nation finally emerge.

Capt. Bishop C. Johnson, US Army (rtd), is a national defense and military strategist and a political commentator.