Nigeria is Bleeding — Boko Haram is Back By Kabir Abdulsalam

*Nigeria is Bleeding — Boko Haram is Back By Kabir Abdulsalam

Nigeria is on fire, again. This isn’t a celebratory sparkler, but a raging inferno of insecurity that refuses to be quenched.

From Borno in the northeast to Zamfara in the northwest, the Niger Delta, the Southeast, and even the nation’s capital, Abuja, the embers of terror smolder ominously.

The question now is not just “why?” but “why still?” And more importantly: when will it end?

The firestorm began in earnest during the administration of President Goodluck Jonathan. Boko Haram, once a fringe radical sect, morphed into a full-blown insurgency under his watch.

Their 2014 abduction of 276 Chibok schoolgirls became a global symbol of Nigeria’s security failure. Towns fell like dominos—Baga, Gwoza, Mubi and others. At its peak, Boko Haram controlled territory the size of Belgium.

To Jonathan’s credit, towards the end of his tenure, regional collaboration—particularly with Chad, Niger, and Cameroon—saw some gains. Yet, the military’s delayed response, alleged corruption, and poorly equipped troops made those gains minimal compared to the havoc wrought.

When President Muhammadu Buhari, a retired general, took office in 2015, Nigerians exhaled in hope. “I will end Boko Haram,” he declared with soldierly assurance. For a while, it seemed the tide was turning. Sambisa Forest was “captured,” and insurgents were “technically defeated.” But soon, another wave crested.

The nation’s capital, Abuja, has once again become a target. In 2022, Boko Haram militants overran Kuje prison, freeing over 800 inmates, including hardened terrorists. The elite Guards Brigade, responsible for the president’s safety, came under direct attack, sending a clear message that the enemy was not only within but also emboldened.

Despite some tactical victories, the Buhari era will be remembered for its sluggishness in addressing the root causes of insecurity, including poor intelligence coordination, lack of community trust, and politicization of military leadership. Under his leaderijship, insecurity metastasized, manifesting in banditry in the northwest, herdsmen attacks in the middle belt, and kidnappings in the south.

President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, barely two months into office, faced mounting criticism for what many perceived as a lack of concrete measures to quell Insecurity especially the violence in Plateau State. As I chronicled in my article, “Under Tinubu, Plateau Killings Are Surging Every Day,” the sustained attacks under his watch have been devastating.

However, Tinubu, a veteran political strategist, took swift action amid despair. He reshuffled the security architecture, appointing Nuhu Ribadu as National Security Adviser and deploying a fresh team with renewed strategies. Early efforts have shown promise, including decapitation strikes on terrorist camps, improved intelligence sharing, and a crackdown on illegal arms.

But two months ago, the fire flared anew. Terrorists, once scattered, seem regrouped. Borno is back in the headlines. Benue bleeds again. Plateau’s peace trembles, witnesses fresh attacks. It’s déjà vu, with more horror.

Experts point to multiple combustibles: poverty, porous borders, tribal conflicts, arms proliferation, and a disillusioned populace. But above all, it is failure—failure of accountability, of consistent strategy, of political will.

Security is not an abstract concept; it is a constitutional obligation. “The security and welfare of the people shall be the primary purpose of government,” says Section 14(2)(b) of the 1999 Constitution. Yet, if government after government cannot douse the flames, then who shall?

It’s time to overhaul, not just our troops, but our thinking. First, any security personnel or commander who fails in their duty must be shown the door. Fire, retire, and if needed, prosecute. Security is not a trial-and-error exercise.

Second, technological surveillance, community policing, and civil-military cooperation must move from policy papers to practical deployment. Why are our borders still open pipelines for weapons? Why do forests remain sanctuaries for killers?

Similarly, state governors, like Professor Babagana Zulum of Borno, have shown what proactive leadership can look like. His calls for the military to be more aggressive and his community rehabilitation programs should be models—not exceptions. Minister of Information, Mohammed Idris, recently reiterated the government’s commitment to rooting out terror. Words must now become action.

The meeting of President Tinubu with security chiefs last month must not be another routine media show. Let it be a strategic turning point. Let there be timelines, consequences, and measurable results.

Insecurity is not just a threat, it is a slow death of the Nigerian dream. As bombs explode and guns rattle, schools are closed, farmers flee, investors withdraw, and hope fades.

This is not just a call for action. It is a demand. The nation is tired of burning.

As journalists, citizens, and patriots, we ask: When will the fire stop? When will Nigeria finally breathe freely? When will our leaders stop managing crises and start eliminating them?

The fire must be extinguished. Not with empty speeches, but with expert action. For if we don’t act now, the ashes of our inaction may bury us all.

Kabir Abdulsalam writes from Abuja,can be reached via: kbabdulsalam03@gmail.com.