Opinion
As Fubara presses the nuclear button
If Nyesom Wike had read the character portrait of the Ijaw man as sketched by Dr. Percy Amoury Talbot, an early 20th-century British historian and colonial administrator, he would most probably have thought twice before settling for Simnalaya Fubara as his third-term placeholder.
Wike was a two-term governor of Rivers State and today, Minister of the Federal Capital Territory. In his highly authoritative 1926 book, Peoples of Southern Nigeria: a Sketch of their History, Ethnology, and Languages, with an Abstract of the 1921 Census, Talbot reserved an unflattering description for the no-nonsense Ijaw race. Hear him on page 333, “Up the various creeks and branches, the waters are infested by a wild piratical set who live almost entirely in their canoes, and who subsist by plundering traders while on their way to the markets, often adding murder to their other crimes.”
Talbot was, aside from his colonial brief, a British anthropologist and botanical collector. Born in 1877, he lived in the creeks for years to undertake his study and died in 1945. While in Nigeria, he was the Acting Resident of Benin Division in the 1920s. Aside from the frightening sketch of the Ijaw above, Talbot went on to say this of the race, “this strange people, (were) a survival from the dim past beyond the dawn of history, whose language and customs are distinct from those of their neighbours and without trace of any tradition of time before they were driven southwards into these regions of somber mangroves,” and in another context, said of them: “their (Ijaws) origin is wrapped in mystery. The people inhabit practically the whole Coast, some 250 miles in length, stretching between the Ibibio and Yoruba. The Niger Delta, therefore, is… occupied by this strange people.”
Many other scholars who studied this unique race couldn’t understand its abstruse origin and piratical ancestry. While a school of thought claimed that Ijaws had a Judo-Christian origin, another contended that their ancestors originated from Palestine. They base this argument on the assumed similarity between Ijaw’s initial name, Ijo, and one of the ancient cities in Palestine known as Ijon. In concluding on this similarity, the scholars drew a nexus between the cultural practices of the Ijaw which are noticeable, male circumcision, ritual laws, and abstinence from sex during menstruation, and Palestinians’ war-mongering and maniacal tendencies. They said that both races draw strength and resilience from their identical link with Zionism. This assumed connection is based on Palestine’s adherence to Mosaic laws, similar to those of the Ijaw people’s self-styled Creek freedom fighters. In the 1940s, amateur historiography also linked the Ijaws with the Benin, Ife, and Egypt and then to the mythological Oduduwa of the Yoruba peoples.
Ijaws were almost unconquerable to the British colonial government, especially the Western Ijaw, so much so that British officers hardly visited Ijaw clans. This was a result of the gruesome killing of the District Commissioner of Forcados in 1911 in the Ijaw communities of Benni and Adagbabiri. Even as late as 1926, there was a confession by British officers in Warri complaining about the ‘truculent Ijaws’ who they owned up they had not succeeded in conquering. Ijaw were also considered to be people of ‘bad manners’ by the colonial administrators because they refused to turn up at the coast to welcome visiting administrators.
In the nineteenth century, pirates gained the utmost notoriety by roaming the seas as sailors, attacking other ships, and stealing property from them. Thus, living true to Talbot’s character profiling, in an act similar to pirates’, Fubara, the governor of Rivers State, last Wednesday pressed the nuclear button. He did this by attacking the hallowed rendering of democratic ethos when he pulled down the state’s legislative chamber, the Assembly complex. Before this demolition, the complex, comprising about six buildings and a main chamber, constructed by the government of Dr Peter Odili, was an insignia of democracy. The Fubara government’s alibi for the demolition, as provided by the Commissioner for Information and Communications, Joseph Johnson, was that the complex had become unsafe for human habitation as a result of the explosion and fire that rocked it in October.
Since the pulling down of the complex, it is instructive that Wike hasn’t said a word. He must have been very proud of his political son who took after his father. Wike’s eight-year administration of Rivers was pockmarked by similar governmental intransigence. In April 2023, after losing his bid for the presidency, Wike ordered African Independent Television (AIT) out of its Port-Harcourt premises and demolished the sprawling building. His grouse was that the owner of AIT, Raymond Dokpesi, took sides with ex-Vice President Atiku Abubakar. In May this year, he also demolished the Bayelsa State Government’s (BASG) property which was located in Akasa Street, Old Government Residential Area in Port Harcourt.
Rivers State had been quaking since the disagreement between Wike and Fubara, his protégé, came into the public glare. It became so messy to the point that four lawmakers, led by factional Speaker, Ehie Ogerenye Edison, who swore loyalty to Fubara, sacked 27 other members, led by factional Speaker, Martin Amaewhule, who had earlier defected to the All Progressives Congress (APC). It has gone even messier, with several resignations from commissioners believed to have been nominated by Wike and the dual sittings by the two factions of state legislators.
The Fubara-ordered demolition of the House of Assembly was blood-curdling. Never had this democratic governance witnessed such massive propitiation of a collective monument to the god of personal political survival. This act reminds people of Qin Shi Huang, the founder of the Qin dynasty and the first emperor of a unified China. Also known by the sobriquet Qin Shihuangdi, he ordered the killing of Chinese scholars because he disagreed with their ideas. He was also renowned for ordering the burning of books he saw as critical to him. While he reigned, Qin ordered the construction of a great wall which was perceived as a prequel to the modern Great Wall of China, as well as an enormous mausoleum that had over 6,000 life-size terra-cotta soldier figures. He conscripted thousands of people who worked on the wall and eventually died in the process of building the Wall. He also ordered the killing of workers building the Chinese mausoleum for the preservation of the secrecy of the tomb. Whenever Qin captured foreign hostages, he ordered them castrated as a mark to delineate them as slaves. When the blood-curdling acts are considered, they seem like a higher version of the destruction of legislative memory than the demolition of the Rivers House of Assembly appears to be. This is so when you bear in mind that all the documents, memories, and codified acts of the Rivers legislature are today buried in ruins to keep Fubara in office and keep him at bay from the fangs and incisors of his Dracula nemesis, Wike.
In an earlier piece I did on the Wike-Fubara tango (Why was Wike admiring Adedibu’s bust? November 5, 2023), I sketched how Nigeria’s Fourth Republic had been replete with outgoing governors planting their puppets as successors and how this puppeteering had boomeranged colossally against them. It is only in Lagos and Bornu State (between Kashim Shettima and Babagana Umara Zulum are predecessor and successor) where a veneer of amity between godfather and godson is being maintained. In virtually all the states where this godfatherism is practiced, immediately the hands of these assumed puppets, in the words of a Yoruba aphorism, firmly clutch the handle of the sword, they get emboldened enough to stand up to their puppeteers and ask upsetting questions.
The last 23 years of godfather politics in Nigeria’s Fourth Republic have also been sustained by a clone of Niccolo Machiavelli’s political theory, which is in effect a theory of autocratic governance. Machiavelli, an Italian historian, and political philosopher, is notorious for his treatise on governance and statescraft through his 1532 book, The Prince. The book advocated cunningness and craftiness as weapons of political power and legitimized deceptive means as a ladder to climb to attain and retain power. Machiavelli taught that to attain and sustain political leadership, irrationality, and immorality are two major weapons to be deployed. Anything other than this for the ‘Prince’, says Machiavelli, is a catastrophe.
The Wike-Fubara episode however promises to brim with weeping, wailing, mourning, blood, and gnashing of the teeth. Since the advent of the Fourth Republic, Rivers has oscillated dangerously on the governorship curve, reflecting an uptick from the sublime to the outright deadly. Beginning with Odili, a medical doctor who is generally perceived to wear the visage of a gentleman, successful occupants of the governorship stool after him have mirrored the anti-feminist, patently patriarchal Yoruba saying that, rather than the woman perceived to be a witch being weaned of her witchcraft, she has kept giving birth to female children, who are potential witches as well. While Rotimi Amaechi appeared a deadly and no-nonsense politician, he was an apprentice when placed by the side of Wike, a pesky, authoritarian totalitarian who brooks no dissenting voice. Like all governors of Nigeria from 1999 who installed their puppets to prevent roaches in their cupboards from peering out for the world to see, Wike’s place-holding rulership of Rivers State, using his former Accountant General, Fubara has hit a deadly rock and violence is being deployed for its sustenance.
As said earlier, if Wike came to Fubara’s choice as the one to carry his piss-can simply on account of his pliable, gentlemanly demeanor, he must by now be reaping the fruits of his narrow-minded judgment. What Fubara lacks in not wearing a bellicose visage, he makes up for in his piratical meanness, a reincarnation of a sort of Qin. In Fubara is the first time the Ijaw are occupying the Brick House, apart from Alfred Papapreye Diete-Spiff, an Ijaw who was the first military governor of Rivers State after it was created from part of the old Eastern Region Eastern Region. Diete-Spiff held office from May 1967 to July 1975 in the military administration of General Yakubu Gowon.
Machiavelli’s Prince and the cruelty of the theory have since been occupying Rivers’ Bricks House. For the rulers of Machiavelli’s theory, the governor is a ruler and he must act contrary to truth, charity, and humanity. The religious exposition of meekness should have no place in his dictionary. To stay continually in power, so counsels Machiavelli, the ruler should act like a ‘man’ or ‘animal’. When you look at the demolition of the Rivers Assembly complex last week, you can judge by yourself who out of Machiavelli’s man or beast had the audacity and temerity to do so. This is because, for the Prince to rule, it is even not enough to act like an ordinary animal. Machiavelli recommends that he is to act like the beast, the fox, and the lion because he must imitate the ferocity of wild animals. There is nothing like the rule of law but anti-people acts in Machiavelli’s leadership conjuration.
Nevertheless, as dangerous and unexampled as the Fubara meanness in destroying the House of Assembly complex appears to be, Fubara deserves to vanquish Wike as a lesson to future gubernatorial godfathers that they can fool some people sometimes but cannot fool all the people all the time. The resignation galore from the Rivers State government by key commissioners in the cabinet has also revealed the palpable danger in and cruelty of gubernatorial godfathers. While Wike unabashedly told the world that he collected forms of expression of interest for all the state elected representatives, the resignations have confirmed the claim that he appointed the bulk of special advisers and commissioners in the Fubara government.
How Wike will wriggle out of this trap he entered into is a million-dollar question. Already, his fight against Fubara has been weaponized as an ethnic war against the marginalized goose that lays the golden egg of Nigeria’s oil hub, the Ijaw. If the age-long creek prowess of the Ijaw, their unanimity in construing the Wike fight as a war against the Ijaw people, will drill a huge hole in the barge of the fight. Arguably Nigeria’s fourth largest ethnic group who live in the coastal fringes, the Ijaw still maintain their pre-colonial kingdoms of Opobo, Kalabiri, Nembe, Brass, and Bonny which is now elongated to the creeks of Ondo State.
In the pre-colonial time, Ijaws said to have existed over 700 years ago, were reputed to have had early contacts with Europe and were by that very fact more prosperous than their hinterland neighbors. They were however marginalized in the states where they live. The exception is Bayelsa which is largely an Ijaw state. The activism of Ijaw youths who began their revolt against the Nigerian state in the 1990s showed their capacity to fight a war of any hue. This fight yielded fruits when President Umaru Yar’Adua granted them amnesty. The revolting youths had earlier formed pan-ethnic youth organizations like the Movement for the Survival of Ijaw Ethnic Nationality (MOSIEN), the Movement for Reparations to Ogbia (MORETO) and the Ijaw Youth Council (IJW). They also had the Egbesu Boys of Africa and FNDIC. It will be recalled that the Egbesu Boys gained public notoriety when a military onslaught was launched against them during the Kaiama Declaration. It was there that the perception of invincibility of its members grew, with tales of the inability of bullets to penetrate the warring boys, all thanks to the Egbesu deity, Ijaw’s god of war. Ijaws have frightful but notable sons like High Chief Government Ekpemupolo, Mujahid Asari Dokubo, president of IYC who established the Niger Delta People’s Volunteer Force, (NDPVF), and Government Oweizide Ekpemupolo, known more by his sobriquet Tompolo, ex-MEND militant commander and chief priest of Egbesu.
Unlike the choleric Wike who overtly advertises his anger, Fubara is calm, hiding his Ijaw ancestral prowess under the veneer of this calmness. He still projects his underdog stand in the fight while allowing Wike to bark out his bad temper and be seen by the whole world as an unpretentious totalitarian.
How long this fight will endure is difficult to determine. Despite Fubara’s mean demolition of the State Assembly Complex, the general mood is tilted against Wike. Many are glad that he has finally met his comeuppance and the arrogant quills of his turtle dove have been lowered. Where the presidency’s sympathy lies in this whole fight, especially the political implication of government making enmity of the Ijaw, is also unclear. What is however clear is that, like the Yoruba say of one who has met their equal, the pigmy Wike has elected to buy his corn meal kept in a raffia palm-made basket that is far higher than him, where his hands and eyes could not select for him.
Dr. Festus Adedayo writes from Ibadan, Oyo state.
As the road to 2027 gradually unfolds across Oyo State, political conversations are shifting from routine permutations to deeper questions about competence, generational leadership, and measurable impact. In Ibarapa East, that conversation has found a new voice in Yusuf Abiodun Ramon — a Lanlate-born technocrat whose entry into the race for the State House of Assembly is redefining what representation could mean for the constituency.
In a political environment often dominated by familiar faces and conventional calculations, Ramon presents a profile shaped by technical discipline, structured thinking, and solution-driven engagement. His professional background, anchored in analytical precision and systems management, forms the foundation of his public service aspiration.
For him, representation must move beyond ceremonial presence to practical responsiveness — laws that reflect local realities, oversight that protects public resources, and advocacy that translates into visible development.
Ramon argues that the future of Ibarapa East lies in leadership that listens deliberately, plans strategically, and delivers measurably. He speaks of strengthening rural infrastructure, expanding youth-driven economic opportunities, and institutionalising transparency as core pillars of his agenda. In his view, governance must not merely be symbolic; it must be structured, accountable, and people-centred.
Rooted in Ile Odede, Isale Alubata Compound, Ward Seven of Ibarapa East Local Government, and maternally linked to Ile Sobaloju, Isale Ajidun Compound, Eruwa, Ramon’s story is not one of distant ambition but of lived experience. He is, in every sense, a son of the soil — shaped by the same roads, schools, and economic realities that define daily life in Ibarapa East.
“I was born here. I grew up here. I understand our struggles, our strengths, and our untapped potential,” he says. “Representation must go beyond occupying a seat; it must translate into preparation, competence, and genuine commitment to development.”
His academic journey mirrors that philosophy of steady growth. He began at Islamic Primary School, Lanlate (1995–2001), proceeded to Baptist Grammar School, Orita Eruwa (2001–2007), and later earned a National Diploma in Mechanical Engineering Technology from Federal Polytechnic, Ilaro, between 2009 and 2011. Refusing to plateau, he advanced his intellectual horizon and is now completing a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration at the University of Lagos. “Education,” he reflects, “is continuous capacity building. Leadership today requires both technical knowledge and administrative insight.”
That blend of engineering precision and managerial training has defined a professional career spanning more than a decade. Shortly after his diploma, Yusuf joined Mikano International Limited as a generator installer, gaining hands-on experience in industrial power systems — a sector central to Nigeria’s infrastructural backbone. He later transitioned into telecommunications at Safari Telecoms Nigeria Limited, where he received specialized training in Industrial, Scientific, and Medical radio bands, strengthening his expertise in network operations.
In 2013, he became a Field Support Engineer at Netrux Global Concepts Ltd., then a leading ISM service provider in Nigeria. Over four formative years, he immersed himself in telecom infrastructure deployment and maintenance, mastering field coordination, logistics management, and real-time technical problem-solving.
Since July 2017, he has served as a Field Support Engineer with Specific Tools and Techniques Ltd., a power solutions firm providing services to major operators including MTN Nigeria and Airtel Nigeria. In that capacity, he operates at the frontline of ensuring energy reliability and network uptime — responsibilities that demand discipline, accountability, and systems thinking.
For political observers in Ibarapa East, this trajectory matters. It reflects more than résumé credentials; it speaks to a mindset anchored in efficiency, coordination, and measurable outcomes — qualities increasingly demanded in legislative representation.
Beyond the private sector, Ramon’s political exposure is neither sudden nor superficial. A loyal member of the progressive political family in Lagos, he once served as a personal assistant to a former lawmaker, gaining practical insight into legislative procedure and constituency engagement. Within his community, he has quietly extended financial support to small-scale entrepreneurs and students — modest but consistent interventions rooted in personal responsibility.
“My interest is my people,” he states firmly. “Ibarapa East deserves strategic, responsive, and capable leadership at the State Assembly. We must move from rhetoric to results.”
Across the constituency — from Lanlate to Eruwa — development priorities remain clear: youth employment, vocational empowerment, rural road rehabilitation, stable power supply, agricultural value-chain expansion, improved educational standards, and stronger lawmaking that directly reflects community needs.
Political analysts argue that Ramon’s technocratic background positions him uniquely at the intersection of policy formulation and practical implementation. At a time when national discourse increasingly favours competence over grandstanding, his profile resonates with a broader generational shift toward performance-driven governance. His engineering discipline reinforces problem-solving; his business training strengthens administrative understanding; his grassroots roots anchor his empathy.
For Ibarapa East, the 2027 election cycle may represent more than a routine democratic exercise. It may mark a recalibration of expectations — a demand for representation that understands both the soil beneath its feet and the systems that drive modern development. As political alignments gradually crystallize in Oyo State, Yusuf Abiodun Ramon’s declaration signals the arrival of a candidate seeking to translate private-sector structure into public-sector impact.
One thing is clear: the conversation about the future of Ibarapa East has begun — and it is now framed around competence, credibility, and capacity.
Oluwasegun Idowu sent in this piece from Eruwa, Ibarapa East LG, Oyo State
“In a sky where delays are normal, one airline flies with precision and trust. Ibom Air shows that reliability can be a strategy”.
In Nigeria’s skies, where flight delays and cancellations are often taken as routine, Ibom Air has quietly rewritten the rules. From the moment it launched in June 2019, the Akwa Ibom State–owned carrier has treated reliability not as a bonus, but as a core strategy—turning punctuality, discipline, and operational excellence into a competitive edge that passengers can count on.
While most airlines chase rapid expansion or flashy promotions, Ibom Air has chosen consistency. Flights depart on schedule, disruptions are minimal, and communication with passengers is clear and timely. This predictability has quickly earned the airline a loyal following among business travellers, professionals, government officials, and families for whom time is invaluable.
The airline’s approach is methodical. Every flight is treated as a commitment, and operational decisions are guided by structured planning, not improvisation. This discipline underpins everything from scheduling to fleet management, ensuring passengers experience flying without surprises.
Central to this model is Ibom Air’s modern fleet. Its Airbus A220-300 and Bombardier CRJ-900 aircraft are fuel-efficient, comfortable, and rigorously maintained to meet both manufacturers’ specifications and the regulatory standards of the Nigerian Civil Aviation Authority and international aviation bodies. Safety here is a culture, not a compliance exercise.
Cabin cleanliness and aircraft health are equally prioritized. Passengers consistently step into neat, hygienic, and professionally maintained cabins, reinforcing confidence and comfort even before take-off. In a sector where small details signal operational quality, Ibom Air’s standards speak volumes.
Technology quietly drives reliability across operations. From booking and check-in to flight coordination and customer service, modern systems enhance efficiency, reduce disruptions, and ensure smooth communication. These tools allow the airline to anticipate challenges rather than merely react.
R–L: Dr. Solomon Oroge, a consultant, and Mr. Idowu Ayodele, journalist and media practitioner, aboard an Ibom Air flight.
Service delivery follows the same disciplined pattern. Pilots, cabin crew, engineers, and ground staff operate under strict professional standards. Courtesy is paired with efficiency, and calm, structured service ensures passengers feel confident throughout their journey.
The Ibom Flyer loyalty programme reflects this structured approach, rewarding consistent passengers and fostering long-term engagement. It turns reliability into a tangible benefit for frequent flyers.
From its hub at Victor Attah International Airport, Uyo, Ibom Air serves major Nigerian cities including Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt, Calabar, and Enugu, while extending its reach to West Africa with flights to Accra, Ghana. Expansion is deliberate, prioritizing sustainability over rapid growth that could compromise service quality.
Measured growth allows the airline to maintain operational excellence and service consistency even as demand increases—a strategy that contrasts sharply with competitors whose rapid expansion often strains resources.
Mr. Idowu Ayodele, journalist and media practitioner, pictured inside an Ibom Air aircraft.
Beyond commercial success, Ibom Air has become a national example. It has created employment, stimulated tourism, and strengthened regional connectivity, projecting a positive image of Nigerian aviation at a time when confidence in the sector is often fragile.
The airline has also challenged assumptions about government-owned enterprises. By combining professional management with operational autonomy, it demonstrates that public investment can achieve efficiency, accountability, and competitiveness.
Reliability, in the case of Ibom Air, is than a promise—it is a deliberate business philosophy. It shapes operations, informs decisions, and builds passenger trust consistently.
Technology, discipline, and attention to detail converge to produce an airline that works. Every element, from fleet maintenance to cabin service, supports the promise that Ibom Air delivers what it advertises—without surprises.
In a market where uncertainty has been the norm, Ibom Air has shown that consistency can be a strategic advantage. Passengers no longer fly with anxiety; they fly with confidence, knowing their schedules will hold and service will meet expectations.
Ultimately, Ibom Air is not just an airline—it is a model of operational excellence in Nigerian aviation. By prioritizing reliability over spectacle, discipline over improvisation, and planning over shortcuts, it sets a benchmark for the industry and a standard for passengers: in the skies, predictability is priceless
Idowu Ayodele – Journalist, Ibadan, Oyo State
0805 889 3736 | megaiconpress@gmail.com
In Homer’s epic poem The Odyssey, the concept of the “Greek gift” was invented. The Trojan Horse became the undoing of Troy, ending a decade-long war in which many Greeks had perished, including the mighty Achilles. The Trojans accepted the Greeks’ gift, and the rest, as they say, is history.
In the past few days, both social and conventional media have been agog with reactions to President Donald J. Trump’s threat to the Nigerian government regarding terrorism. In his words, Nigeria must “address the genocide against Christians in the North and Middle Belt, or else the U.S. will cut aid to the country and, in addition, come into the country guns blazing in an attempt to flush out the terrorists.”
Sincerely speaking, the tweet made by the U.S. President sounded a bit comical to me, as did many other commentaries that followed. Comical not in a ridiculous sense, but in a comedic sense.
This piece is not written to support or oppose any particular view, but to lay down facts in the most succinct and objective manner, thereby allowing for the independence of a balanced position.
In 2009, a terror group named Jama’at Ahl al-Sunna li al-Da’wa wa al-Jihad (popularly referred to as Boko Haram) emerged with the aim of establishing Islamic rule across Nigeria. According to the group, Sharia was the only path to true progress, and any faith other than Islam was haram (forbidden).
Soon after, this group began launching vicious attacks against Christians and Christian places of worship. From singularly attacking Christians, their targets shifted to government institutions and facilities, and on 28 November 2014, one of the greatest attacks against fellow Muslims occurred with the bombing and mass shooting of Juma’at worshippers at the Kano Central Mosque. Over 120 worshippers were killed and another 260 critically injured.
The point here is to underscore the fact that Boko Haram—and indeed all other extremist groups in Nigeria—are not targeting Christians alone, as earlier claimed, but are pursuing a more sinister agenda of land grabbing with the colouration of economic, psychological and socio-political domination of conquered territories, with intentions of spreading across the country.
From the Northeast, the activities of wanton killing and destruction perpetrated by terrorists spread to the North Central region, particularly Plateau and Benue States. What originally began as farmer–herder clashes metamorphosed into full-blown village and community sackings, where Fulani invaders razed entire communities, leaving hundreds dead or wounded while survivors were displaced and left with harrowing experiences in IDP camps.
This wave of destruction continued, with one of the bloodiest in recent times occurring in Yelwata, Guma Local Government Area of Benue State, on the night of 13–14 June 2025. According to Amnesty/CE/UN/NGO, over 200 people were gruesomely massacred, several houses burnt to ashes, and about 3,000 people displaced and rendered homeless. In 2025 alone, Amnesty reported more than 10,000 additional people displaced in Benue across several local governments, ranging from Gwer West to Agatu, Ukum/Gbagir, Logo, Kwande and Guma.
From the North Central, terrorism—or better still, banditry—also found its way to the North West. The activities of bandits, kidnappers and other criminal elements were consistently reported in Zamfara, Kaduna, Kebbi, Sokoto, Kano, and even Katsina, which was once regarded as the true home of hospitality, as its state slogan depicts, and as I can also attest considering how much I enjoyed the peace and serenity of the state during my days therein as a Youth Corps member. Reuters.ng reports that as of 2025, approximately 2,456 people had been killed in the North West region across multiple states. In addition to this, about 7,260 people, including schoolchildren and commuters on highways, had been abducted, with several millions of naira collected by kidnappers as ransom payments. Some parts of the South West, South East and South South have not been spared the atrocities of terrorists and bandits.
Therefore, it is safe to say that the entire country has, at one time or the other, experienced the activities of bandits, terrorists and kidnappers. The intensity of attack, however, differs from region to region.
Late General Sani Abacha once said that “if any insurgency lasts for more than 24 hours, a government official has a hand in it.” This saying more or less amplifies the complexity of the terrorism–banditry–kidnapping problem in Nigeria. Nigeria is a country abundantly blessed with all manners of rich mineral resources. Apart from the vast arable land required for productive agriculture, there is virtually no region of the country that does not possess one valuable solid mineral or another.
From iron ore in Zamfara, Kogi and Enugu; gold in Kaduna, Kebbi and Osun; lithium in Nasarawa, Kwara, Oyo and the FCT; bitumen in Ondo, Edo and Ogun; plus other industrial minerals like gypsum, kaolin and limestone, with deposits of over one billion tonnes across many states—Nigeria is sitting on an incredibly underutilised treasure worth billions of dollars. The government’s inability to adequately manage these vast potentials provides fertile grounds for opportunistic scrambling, illegal mining, chaos and its attendant conflicts.
One can therefore boldly say that the chaos and violence camouflaged as terrorism and banditry is indeed a calculated campaign driven not just by Islamic extremism but by land grabbing and occupation for the purpose of blood mineral extraction and illicit mining.
Thus, a sophisticatedly armed radical Islamic Fulani ethnic militia, often operating under political protection, carries out multiple killings, displacements and kidnappings across the Northeast, North Central and North West, after which reports reveal that foreign miners appear following the death and displacement of indigenes to exploit the lands.
Amnesty International has also reported that Nigeria loses over $9 billion annually to illicit mining of gold, tin and lithium, with a significant portion—estimated at 10%—funding violence and corruption. The report further revealed that the involvement of some government elements in this corruption is not in doubt, as eyewitness reports of survivors and satellite surveillance footage revealed the connivance of certain government personnel. Some survivors have also repeatedly claimed that they witnessed helicopters in the middle of the night dropping weapons and ammunition for the bandits—a disclosure corroborated by Professor Bolaji Akinyemi in an interview on African Stream earlier this year.
So, it is right to say that the violence and carnage are just a smokescreen and a catalyst to a far-reaching economic, psychological and socio-political agenda of certain influential elements in the country. This is part of the reason why the billions of naira spent on security to equip the military to better fight insurgency have not yielded much result to date.
In addressing the threat of President Donald Trump, I would like to start by recounting a little history about the 47th President of the United States and his previous antecedents. In January 2018, at a news conference in the White House, President Trump referred to Haiti and some African countries—including Nigeria—as “shithole countries” that should not be accorded immigrant status in the U.S.
Furthermore, his government’s stern immigration policies and visa restrictions clearly reflect a hostile stance towards Africa and some other Global South countries. In light of this, it is hard to understand where the sudden genuine concern for Nigerian Christians is coming from—more so when a U.S. congressman earlier this year revealed that USAID played a significant role in the funding of Boko Haram and other terrorist groups. This concern was never mentioned when Late President Muhammadu Buhari visited the White House a few months after the “shithole” saga and was praised by the same Trump for his valiant efforts in fighting Boko Haram and ISWAP, despite staggering reports of attacks and killings in the Northeast and North Central during that period.
Under the erudite scholarship of Professor Kunle Ajayi, I learnt several years ago, in one of our Politics of Global Economic Relations lectures, that in world politics and global socio-economic relations, the overriding determinant of states’ decisions and actions is strategic interest. Altruism is hardly ever a factor.
Present realities of Nigeria’s economic relations are fast approaching self-sufficiency—particularly in the oil sector, where Nigeria was once a major importer of finished petroleum products from the U.S. The Dangote refinery, having begun domestic refining and production of petroleum products, is fast taking over a market once dominated by imports from the U.S. This shift, no doubt, is taking jobs away from American oil workers—no cheering news for the country’s oil conglomerates. Secondly, China has since replaced the United States as Nigeria’s foremost trading partner.
According to Nairametrics (2025), the value of trade between Nigeria and China between 2023–2025 totals approximately $50 billion compared to an estimated $30 billion with the U.S. This paradigm shift would certainly not be palatable to the U.S. or her president, who happens to be a dogged businessman that hates the word “no”. From this perspective, it is not difficult to see where President Trump is coming from.
Be that as it may, I think Nigeria needs to employ shrewd diplomacy in dealing with the U.S. under a president like Donald Trump. Regardless of international law and conventions, the U.S. has repeatedly proven itself willing to take unilateral military action against countries, defying the rule of law and popular global opinion. So those hinging on Nigeria’s sovereignty as a deterrent to the U.S. are not good students of history.
What is, however, more important in all of this is that global attention is once again drawn to the horrible atrocities of these criminal elements in Nigeria. The country cannot continue to behave as though it is normal headline news when people are slaughtered daily, and families and homes are torn apart.
I believe this is an opportunity for the government to rejig the entire security architecture of the country, with the needed political will, to once and for all end these killings. Strategic partnership with the United States in this regard is not a bad idea. With its extensive experience in counter-terrorism operations and access to sophisticated military technology and intelligence, the U.S. can assist in identifying and eradicating the major financiers and enablers of terrorism and banditry. It is not rocket science that when the financing of terrorists ends, terrorism ceases to exist.
However, this should be done only on the basis of shared interest, mutual respect, trust, and understanding reflective of a healthy and balanced foreign policy relationship. By prioritising constructive diplomacy, dialogue and partnership, Nigeria can work with the United States in a strategic alliance to restore peace, security and confidence across the nation. That is the way to go.
Olusegun Hassan, Ph.D
Public Policy Analyst and Social Commentator
-
Politics3 days agoIbarapa East Assembly Hopeful, Ramon Congratulates Ajiboye, Says Emergence Good for Oyo APC
-
Politics1 week agoMakinde: My Successor Must Be Loyal to Oyo, Not Me
-
Politics3 days ago2027: Former Oyo Deputy Governor Adeyemo Emerges APC Chairman (See Full List)
-
Politics1 week agoFintiri Dumps PDP for APC, Moves with Cabinet, 14 Adamawa Lawmakers