Opinion
Titanic’s crash and anger of Olokun, the Sea goddess | By Festus Adedayo
The world is in a mourning mood. After a fruitless five-day search for a missing deep-sea submersible vessel with five passengers on board, its wreckage was eventually found last Thursday. The five occupants on board were killed in the process. The search had been spearheaded by a robotic diving vehicle deployed from a Canadian ship. The five were on a voyage to see the century-old wreckage of the famous Titanic by the time this catastrophic implosion occurred.
The robotic vehicle had found the debris of the submersible Titan on the seabed, “some 1,600 feet (488 meters) from the bow of the Titanic,” reported Reuters. Named the Titan and operated by OceanGate Expeditions, a U.S.-based company, its passengers included the company’s founder and chief executive officer, Stockton Rush who also doubled as pilot of the Titan; British billionaire and explorer, Hamish Harding; Pakistani-born businessman, Shahzada Dawood and his 19-year-old son, Suleman, as well as French oceanographer and famous Titanic expert, Paul-Henri Nargeolet. They had gone on the adventurous undersea expedition at the cost of $250,000 to each of the passengers.
The original British passenger liner named the Titanic, which its moulders claimed was unsinkable, had sunk on April 15, 1912, 111 years ago. It had collided with an iceberg. After several unsuccessful years of efforts to discover the wreckage, 73 years after, in 1985, a joint French-American expedition eventually found it out. Salvage operations to recover items in the Titanic which is said to lie in the ocean at a depth of about 12,500 feet on the coast of Newfoundland, have resulted in thousands of items found and now conserved by being put on public display. The bodies of the passengers could however not be recovered. A total of 2,208 passengers had sailed in the early morning of that day, on its maiden voyage from Southampton, England to New York City. Out of them, 1,503 died.
The crash of the deep-sea submersible vessel has provoked some interests and comments. One of such was a piece entitled The Titan disaster shows the effect of human hubris in the deep sea written by Karen Attiah, a columnist with The Washington Post. In it, she drew an inference of a probable anger of the Yoruba goddess of the ocean, Olokun as cause of the disaster. This connect was further reinforced when renowned Hollywood director and Titanic researcher, James Cameron, told the BBC in an interview that there was a definite link between the tragic crash of the two Titans as well as similarities in the crashes’ circumstances. Cameron, a submersible designer, had directed the Oscar-winning blockbuster Titanic. He had said: “I’m struck by the similarity of the Titanic disaster itself, where the captain was repeatedly warned about ice ahead of his ship, and yet, he steamed up full speed into an ice field on a moonless night. And many people died as a result and for us very similar tragedy where warnings went unheeded to take place at the same exact site.”
Samuel Johnson, the iconic Yoruba historian, in telling the story of the dreaded Bashorun Gaa of the Old Oyo Empire, unknowingly explained the Atlantic economy of centuries ago among the Yoruba. In his narration, Johnson drew a link between the river goddess, Olokun and ancient Yoruba cowries, the only legal tender of transaction that began in the 16th century. As Prime Minister of Old Oyo from 1754–1774 circa, Gaa, according to Johnson, once requested his babalawo to make charms that would enable him acquire “plenty of cowries.” He had complained to them that, in spite of his enormous powers and wealth, he had little cowries to flaunt as symbol of his political power. In reality, this was a manifestation of the competition Gaa faced from other power wielders in the empire, that they might use their financial capacity to undermine his political base. Gaa’s cash crisis was also said to have been worsened by his incorrigible children, who, like the biblical sons of Eli – Hophni and Phinehas – lorded “it all over the country (Old Oyo provinces) (and which) deprived him of the revenues which might have come to him.”
Anyway, these medicine men then gave the Prime Minister ose dudu, a medicinal soap, with which he was to take his bath. They thumped their chests as they asserted that, before sunset, humongous wealth would flood his palace. Unconfirmed reports claimed that the babalawo had secured the soap from the bowel of the Atlantic, specifically from the hands of Olokun. After the bath with the soap, a mysterious fire suddenly engulfed the Gaa compound which burnt virtually all his belongings to the hilt. However, due to the awe and dread of the Prime Minister’s powers, virtually all sectors of the Empire, from the capital to all the innumerable provinces, upon hearing of this destruction, rose in his support. Gaa’s venomous powers were such that, he could incinerate provinces that failed to contribute to the rebuilding of his lost assets and compound. Not only did they rebuild the compound, but the gifts Gaa also received in cash and materials were overwhelming. Ultimately, the Prime Minister emerged, like the mythical Phoenix, from the ashes of the disaster richer than he once was. Astounded by the link between his Olokun-given wealth and the disaster, Gaa had asked his babalawo for an explanation. According to Johnson, he had asked, “Is this the way you promised to get me cowries?” and their reply was, “Yes … by what other means could you have amassed such an abundance in so short a time?”
In a journal article written for the Boston University African Studies Centre by Akinwumi Ogundiran, entitled Of small things remembered: Beads, cowries and cultural translations of the Atlantic experience (The International Journal of African Historical Studies, Vol. 35, No. 2/3 (2002), pp. 427-457) the author told the story of how Benin oral traditional history also speaks to the intervention of the Olokun in the prosperity recorded during the reign of Oba Eresoyen. He ruled from 1735 to 1737. By the way, Olokun, in Yoruba-Edo belief, was not only revered as the deity of the ocean, she was also known as goddess of wealth. Eresoyen’s cowry boom was said to have occurred when he made a peace pact with the Olokun. Palace remembrancers speak of how Oba Eresoyen initially engaged in an unending tiff with Olokun by using his spiritual powers to close tributaries in his kingdom which denied Olokun access to her waters. A palm wine tapper then mediated between Eresoyen and the Olokun which resulted in the restoration of water to the goddess. In appreciation, Olokun made a pact with Eresoyen that she would requite his restoration of access to her waters with massive wealth. She then heaped mounds of cowries, which were within her territorial grip, in the sky for Eresoyen which his palace courtiers shouldered into the palace in massive quantity.
I gave the two anecdotes above to highlight, not only the fertile beliefs, imaginations and rumours that thrived centuries ago, especially in the Atlantic commerce of the time, but also the dominant perception of the powers of the Atlantic Ocean called Okun and the lord of the ocean.
Attiah had delved into what she called “the Yoruba religious tradition” where “divine spirits known as Orishas (sic) rule over various cosmic forces and elements of nature. There is Shango (sic) the king orisha of thunder and fire; Yemaya (sic) the orisha of the ocean; and Oshun (sic) who rules rivers and lakes” and what she called “a lesser-known orisha, Olokun, who is androgynous and rules the deepest parts of the ocean where light does not penetrate.” Attiah further wrote that “the Olokun is an extremely fearsome and vengeful orisha, upset with humans for not showing proper reverence… (and) chained to the bottom of the ocean so as to restrain (her) from destroying humanity. The pressure of the deep ocean represents the origins of life and threatens gruesome, instant death for humans. It is for all these reasons Olokun is rarely challenged or disturbed, even by the other orishas.” She concluded in this piece that the submersible’s disaster is a reminder to the world that in spite of humanity’s inventions, it cannot dominate the deep, deep sea.
How true is Attiah’s linkage of Olokun to the submersible’s disaster and how dissimilar or similar is this tragedy from centuries-old mythic perception of traditional Africa? This debate about the existence of gods, goddesses and attempts to spiritize disasters like the Titanic of 1912 and last week’s have provoked philosophical debates about the existence of spirits and metaphysical objects. Are spirits real? Are there evil spirits? Is the physical the only real thing? If it isn’t, what then makes Attiah’s explanation for the crash of the Titanic unreal, mythic and fabulous, while we concentrate on what we are only able to cognize?
While the particular configuration of the Olokun is unknown, the Yemoja, another goddess of the river or water deity, is widely iterated in Yoruba folklores. Many claimed to have encountered this fish goddess who also, like the Olokun, resides in the heart of the waters. Indeed, the Yemoja, taken from Yeye Omo Eja – mother of fishes – has devotees who honour her as a source of life, fertility and abundance and built temples for her. Some people even claimed to have encountered her in the depths of rivers with dual features of a fish, complete with fins but with human shoulders and head. She is carved out as the Mother with weeping breasts and venerated for her kindness. Yemoja is also the Queen Mother who lives in the depth of the water – the Ayaba ti ngbe ibu omi. Yemoja shares her maternity renown with three other water goddesses, Osun, Oba and Oya water deities.
Janet Langlois, of the Folklore Institute, Indiana University, citing ethnographer Ellis A. B, retold the Yemoja story that had often been told as folklore in Yorubaland. Ellis had narrated the legend in his 1894-written The Yoruba-speaking Peop1e of the Slave Coast of West Africa. It goes thus: “Oduduwa, the Earth, given birth to by Obatala, who was the Heavens, also gave birth to a son and daughter. The son was named Aganju and he represented dry and barren land. He then married the daughter, Yemoja, who was life-giving water. They both jointly had a son named Orungan, who was the sky between heaven and earth. One sad day when Aganju was far from home, Orungan ravished his mother, Yemoja. She sprang from him and ran quickly, blindly away. He pursued her and was overtaking her and about to touch her when she slipped and fell, striking her head against a stone. The impact sent jets of water gushing up from her huge breasts. These waters joined to form a sweet lagoon. Her huge belly burst open and many Orisas sprang from her.”
Among the Yoruba, water has a powerful force. Waters are sacred sites with presiding spirits which act as intercessors with the ultimate divine. This provides the reason for the worship of the Yemoja in Osun as the river goddess of fertility. She is referred to as the Ajeje, a mother who has herbs in the river with which she takes care of her children and gives them longevity. Devotees say they revere the waters of Osun just as Christianity reveres rivers in its baptism phenomenon and River Jordan in particular for its spirituality. In Africa, many groups don’t go to the rivers on certain days, believing that those were the days the water spirits come out.
From their manifestations, Olokun and Yemoja are different. The differences are in their temperaments and habitation. While Olokun resides in the Atlantic, Yemoja lives in rivers. Yemoja is benign while Olokun, though is mythically perceived as the god of wealth, could also be a jealous woman who can be deadly. In spite of scientific explanations of the Bermuda Triangle, otherwise known as the Devil’s Triangle, traditionalists believe the calamities wrecked by it in the mid-20th century were caused by the Olokun who, in her anger, and in mysterious circumstances, brought about the disappearances of some aircraft and ships. Some meteorological studies have however referred to Olokun and the Bermuda as an urban legend, ascribing the calamities to “diffraction heat patterns (which) give rise to corresponding weather and ocean patterns which, to a large extent, account for the mysteries already noted in the Bermuda region.” The Bermuda is located in the western part of the North Atlantic Ocean.
So, could Attiah have been right about the anger of the Olokun as cause of the crash of the two Titanics? Should we be bothered and seek extra-scientific answers to these tragedies so as to guard against them in the future? Attiah buttressed her claim with allusions to what she called the social value of certain perilous journeys. On the social media, many have wondered why such potentially perilous elite fancy should detain the rest of humanity. The world had literally been frozen due to the deaths of these voyagers while thousands of immigrants have perished in the Mediterranean without as much as a whimper from the same world. These were, in the words of Attiah, “migrants who are arguably much braver but have far fewer resources… demonized and left to die, despite the fact that all they want is the opportunity to work, to contribute value, to live.” In the same vein, the west has literally shut its ears from cries of reparations for sunken slave ships which Attiah calls “the true symbols of Europe’s ability to enslave people and exploit nature in faraway lands.”
Brandon Presser, an Op-ed writer with the Post, had joined in affirming the reckless audacity of man in going behind its province to seek to dominate the aquatic province of fishes. “Water is our birthright but also a force of great destruction, holding a record of everything it claims. To visit the depths of the ocean is not an act of arrogance, then, but something quite the opposite: an acknowledgment of our obsolescence. It’s fitting that the desire to blindly careen toward the ocean floor goes hand in hand with our curious obsession with the Titanic. The felled ship, once touted as the world’s greatest, has remained a parable for nature’s power over the mightiest efforts of humankind to assert its dominance over the planet,” he had written.
While the world is shedding tears about the recent Titanic disaster, Attiah has given us thoughts to ponder on. Why is the world obsessed with technological dominance like the Titanic, which “allow(ed) Europe to explore and pillage other countries, wipe out entire peoples and enrich itself by exploiting the Earth’s resources”? The Titanic, she said, “might be a reminder that the deep ocean is the only resource-rich realm on Earth with the power to keep White men from exploiting it.” Is Olokun then that power?
So, is Olokun angry that man is going beyond their earthly borders? Or, in the words of Attiah, “are (there indeed) some realms on Earth that are meant to be mysteries — not to be mastered”? Is humanity suffering from what the Yoruba call agbere, arrogant audacity? Or, is this absolute nonsense, in the words of Austrian philosopher, Ludwig Wittgenstein, who saw anything metaphysical like the link being drawn between the Titanic and an angry sea goddess, as such?
Dr. Adedayo writes from Ibadan
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
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