When President Bola Tinubu assumed office on May 29, 2023, he inherited an economy weighed down by years of fiscal strain. Convinced that the over four-decade-old petrol subsidy had become an unsustainable burden on the nation’s finances, he took the politically difficult but economically significant decision to abolish it.
The removal of the subsidy dramatically increased revenues accruing to the Federation Account, resulting in substantially higher allocations to the 36 state governments. States that were once financially handicapped suddenly found themselves with unprecedented fiscal resources.
The expectation was that this newfound financial strength would translate into improved security, better healthcare, quality education, enhanced social services, and infrastructure capable of stimulating economic growth. While investments have indeed been made in roads, bridges, airports, hospitals, schools, and governors’ lodges, one critical area has remained dangerously underfunded—security.
Across the country, many governors have treated the construction of flyover bridges and other landmark projects as symbols of development and political accomplishment. Yet, magnificent infrastructure loses much of its value when citizens cannot travel safely on the roads, farmers are afraid to cultivate their lands, schoolchildren risk abduction, and businesses operate under constant threat of criminal violence.
The first responsibility of government is the protection of lives and property. Without security, every other development initiative rests on a fragile foundation.
For several months, I have consistently argued in this column that a significant portion of the increased federal allocations to the states should be directed toward strengthening intelligence gathering, expanding policing capacity, deploying surveillance technology, and building robust security architecture rather than concentrating overwhelmingly on prestige projects.
It was therefore reassuring to hear President Bola Tinubu reinforce a similar message during his meeting last Friday with the traditional rulers of Oyo State, led by the Olubadan of Ibadanland, His Royal Majesty Oba Rashidi Ladoja. The monarchs had visited the Presidential Villa to express appreciation following the successful rescue of the students and teachers abducted from schools in Oriire Local Government Area, near Ogbomosho.
Beyond acknowledging the rescue operation, the President used the occasion to underscore a broader philosophy of governance—that governments should prioritize investments that directly improve the lives and welfare of ordinary citizens. Implicit in that message is the recognition that security infrastructure deserves the same attention as physical infrastructure.
Governors should therefore expand their definition of infrastructure to include integrated surveillance systems, intelligence-driven policing, command-and-control centres, drones, artificial intelligence, and other modern technologies capable of preventing crime rather than merely responding to it.
Three important messages emerged from the President’s interaction with the Oyo traditional rulers.
The first was his unequivocal reaffirmation of the Federal Government’s policy against paying ransom to kidnappers.
For some time, public skepticism had persisted over whether successive releases of abducted victims involved unofficial ransom payments, particularly in northern Nigeria where mass kidnappings have become frequent. By publicly restating his administration’s zero-tolerance policy on ransom payments, President Tinubu removed much of the uncertainty surrounding the government’s position.
More importantly, he reaffirmed his determination to ensure that terrorists, kidnappers, and other criminal elements are defeated rather than rewarded. That clarification was significant because it reassured vulnerable communities that the Federal Government remains committed to confronting insecurity instead of capitulating to criminal enterprises.
The second notable takeaway was the President’s subtle but unmistakable appeal to governors to rethink their development priorities.
His message was straightforward: public resources should be invested where they produce the greatest benefit for the greatest number of citizens. In today’s Nigeria, no investment offers a higher social and economic return than one that restores public safety.
One hopes governors across the federation will heed this advice. After all, roads are only useful when motorists can travel on them without fear. Schools fulfil their purpose only when children can learn without the threat of abduction. Hospitals can serve their communities only when healthcare workers and patients are safe. Even markets cannot flourish where insecurity drives away traders and consumers.
Security is therefore not merely another item on the development agenda—it is the foundation upon which every other developmental aspiration rests.
History offers a useful lesson.
There was a time when armed robbery posed an existential threat to Nigeria’s banking industry. Banks responded by investing heavily in preventive security measures, including metal detectors, surveillance equipment, controlled access systems, and strengthened security protocols. Those innovations dramatically reduced bank robberies and restored public confidence in the banking system.
The same principle applies today. If state governments invest in technology-driven security solutions with the same seriousness that banks once invested in protecting their customers, Nigeria could witness a similar decline in kidnapping, banditry, terrorism, and violent crime.
Considering that insecurity consistently ranks among Nigerians’ greatest concerns, directing substantial public investment toward modern security infrastructure should no longer be viewed as optional—it should be regarded as an urgent national imperative.
The third major takeaway from the President’s meeting was his recognition of the indispensable role traditional rulers can play in the gradual decentralization of Nigeria’s policing architecture.
Using the Olubadan, Oba Rashidi Ladoja—a former governor of Oyo State who served during the same period President Tinubu governed Lagos State—as an example, the President acknowledged the immense value of combining administrative experience with traditional authority.
His assurance that traditional institutions will play a significant role in the evolving decentralized policing system reflects a growing appreciation that effective community policing cannot succeed without the participation of traditional rulers, who remain the closest custodians of grassroots intelligence in many parts of the country.
President Tinubu also encouraged Oba Ladoja to leverage his experience as a former governor by advising today’s governors to reduce excessive spending on projects that offer more political symbolism than practical value.
His advice could not have come at a more appropriate time.
Flyover bridges may beautify cities. Airports may enhance prestige. Governors’ lodges may project status. But none of these can substitute for the peace of mind that comes from knowing that citizens can sleep safely in their homes, farmers can cultivate their fields without fear, children can attend school securely, and businesses can operate freely.
Infrastructure undoubtedly drives development. But without security, development itself becomes unsustainable.
As Nigeria confronts one of the most challenging security crises in its history, perhaps the time has come for governors to redefine what truly constitutes critical infrastructure. Roads, bridges, hospitals, and schools remain indispensable. Yet safeguarding the lives and property of the people who use them is even more important.
After all, every meaningful development begins with security.
Coincidentally, Oyo State Governor Seyi Makinde, who has invested significantly in the construction of flyover bridges across Ibadan, recently procured two surveillance drones to strengthen the state’s security capabilities.
Although Governor Makinde has maintained that the acquisition was not prompted by the kidnapping of 46 pupils, teachers, and school workers from several schools in Oriire Local Government Area last June, the timing is difficult to ignore. Coming on the heels of the successful rescue operation carried out by Nigeria’s security agencies—with crucial support from local vigilantes, some of whom paid the ultimate price—the decision inevitably appears to have been influenced, at least in part, by that tragic incident.
Whatever the motivation, Governor Makinde deserves commendation for investing in security infrastructure to safeguard the lives and property of the people of Oyo State, which remains the foremost constitutional responsibility of any governor.
More importantly, the investment signals a welcome shift from the prevailing tendency among many state governments to prioritize prestige projects—such as elaborate governors’ lodges, airports, and monumental flyovers—over initiatives that directly enhance public safety.
While airports undoubtedly have economic value, some have become symbols of political prestige, making it easier for governors to fly in and out of their states while many federal highways remain in deplorable condition. Roads such as the Benin–Asaba, Benin–Warri, and Benin/Agbor–Lokoja corridors have deteriorated into dangerous death traps, posing serious risks to commuters travelling between the South-South, South-East, South-West, and North-Central regions of the country.
If there is one governor who has demonstrated what technology-driven security can achieve, it is Governor Peter Mbah of Enugu State.
His administration has embraced an integrated security strategy built around surveillance cameras, drones, artificial intelligence, forensic laboratories, and other modern crime-fighting technologies. The results have been remarkable.
Today, Enugu is increasingly regarded as one of Nigeria’s safest states. That achievement is even more noteworthy considering that, not long ago, the state was at the centre of security challenges associated with separatist activities, including the sit-at-home orders enforced by the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB), the activities of the Eastern Security Network (ESN), and, in earlier years, the notorious Bakassi Boys.
Enugu’s transformation demonstrates that insecurity is not insurmountable when governments deliberately prioritize intelligence-led policing and technology without neglecting other essential sectors. Governor Mbah has simultaneously invested in roads, schools, agriculture, and other critical infrastructure, proving that security and development are complementary rather than competing priorities.
Such ambitious investments would have been difficult only a few years ago. They have been made possible largely because of the substantial increase in revenues accruing to the states following President Tinubu’s removal of the petrol subsidy and the implementation of foreign exchange reforms.
The impact of those reforms on public finances has been significant.
Between May 2023 and March 2026, total Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) disbursements reached approximately ₦86.1 trillion, compared with about ₦30 trillion received during the final 36 months of President Muhammadu Buhari’s administration between 2019 and 2023.
State governments alone saw their allocations rise from about ₦7.6 trillion under the previous administration to roughly ₦17.3 trillion during the first three years of the Tinubu administration—an extraordinary increase. Likewise, allocations to the 774 local government councils climbed from approximately ₦5.6 trillion to ₦12.6 trillion over the same period.
Against this backdrop, the persistence of insecurity in many parts of northern Nigeria can no longer be explained solely by inadequate funding. A more plausible explanation is that security has not always received the level of priority it deserves.
Another factor may be the exclusion of traditional rulers from Nigeria’s formal security architecture following the 1976 local government reforms, which effectively displaced them from their historical role as grassroots custodians of law and order by establishing elected local government councils as the third tier of government.
Equally important is the constitutional arrangement that places policing and internal security on the Exclusive Legislative List. Because security has traditionally been regarded as the exclusive responsibility of the Federal Government, many governors have tended to view themselves as observers rather than principal actors in the protection of lives and property, despite being popularly described as the chief security officers of their states.
This mindset has produced consequences similar to the attitude adopted toward federal highways. Just as many governors leave deteriorating federal roads entirely to Abuja, believing maintenance is solely the responsibility of the Federal Government, some have approached security with the same level of detachment.
The difference, however, is profound.
Bad roads damage vehicles, delay journeys, and hinder commerce. Poor security, on the other hand, costs lives, destroys livelihoods, displaces communities, and weakens the authority of the state. Where government fails to fill the security vacuum, non-state actors—including bandits, terrorists, kidnappers, and separatist groups—quickly move in to occupy the space.
Fortunately, that paradigm appears to be changing.
With the ongoing effort to decentralize policing and strengthen subnational participation in internal security, Nigeria is gradually moving away from an approach that relied almost exclusively on military force toward a more structured, intelligence-led, technology-driven policing system. Should the proposed constitutional reforms eventually transfer policing from the Exclusive Legislative List to the Concurrent Legislative List, governors would assume clearer constitutional responsibility as the true chief security officers of their respective states, while the Federal Government would retain strategic oversight, coordination, and supervisory responsibilities.
Yet no policing model—whether centralized or decentralized—can succeed without grassroots participation.
While researching my forthcoming book, “The Imperative of State Police in Nigeria,” scheduled for public presentation at the Abuja Continental Hotel on September 10, I came to appreciate the indispensable role traditional rulers played in maintaining law and order during the colonial era.
Their deep knowledge of local communities, cultural legitimacy, and extensive grassroots networks made them invaluable partners in intelligence gathering and conflict resolution.
The following excerpt from Chapter Eight of the book, titled “Traditional Rulers as Security Partners,” particularly the section “The Strategic Advantages of Traditional Institutions in Contemporary Policing,” explains why traditional institutions remain indispensable to any effective security architecture in modern Nigeria.
“Recognising the historical role of traditional institutions is only part of the conversation. The more important policy question is whether those historical strengths retain practical relevance in addressing Nigeria’s contemporary security challenges. The evidence suggests that they do. Although traditional rulers no longer exercise formal policing powers, many of the attributes that once made them effective custodians of community security remain largely intact. Their enduring value lies not in wielding coercive authority but in possessing strategic advantages that modern policing increasingly recognises as indispensable to intelligence-led security management.
Perhaps their greatest advantage is their unrivalled access to local intelligence. Criminal activities rarely begin with spectacular acts of violence. More often, they develop gradually through subtle changes within communities that are difficult for outsiders to detect. The arrival of unfamiliar persons, unusual movements of people or vehicles, the sudden occupation of abandoned buildings, suspicious gatherings in isolated locations or the quiet recruitment of young people into criminal networks are often noticed first by local residents. Because traditional rulers remain closely connected to their communities through village heads, ward leaders, family heads and other customary structures, they are often among the earliest to receive such information. In many respects, they occupy a strategic vantage point that enables them to identify emerging threats before they escalate into full-blown security crises.
Perhaps the greatest contribution that traditional institutions make to contemporary policing is their ability to bridge the trust gap that often exists between formal security agencies and local communities. In many parts of Nigeria, citizens may be reluctant to approach the police directly, whether because of fear, previous experiences or concerns about confidentiality. Yet those same individuals are often willing to confide in traditional rulers whom they know personally and trust. In that respect, traditional institutions perform an important intermediary function, enabling valuable intelligence that might otherwise remain within the community to reach the appropriate security authorities.
Traditional institutions also possess a level of cultural competence that formal policing structures often struggle to replicate. Security challenges are frequently intertwined with local customs, historical grievances, family relationships, land ownership patterns and ethnic sensitivities that may not be readily apparent to officers deployed from outside the community. What appears to be an ordinary disagreement may, in reality, reflect longstanding communal tensions. Likewise, what initially seems to be a criminal incident may have deeper cultural or historical dimensions requiring careful handling. Traditional rulers, by virtue of their intimate understanding of local realities, are often better positioned to interpret these complexities and provide security agencies with context that enables more informed and measured responses.
Their influence extends beyond intelligence gathering to community mobilisation. During periods of tension, traditional rulers possess the ability to convene community meetings, engage youth leaders, mobilise local vigilance groups, encourage public cooperation with security agencies and appeal for restraint where violence appears imminent. Their voices often carry moral weight that transcends political affiliation or administrative authority. In communities where trust in government institutions may be fragile, that moral influence can become an invaluable resource for de-escalating conflicts, promoting peaceful coexistence and encouraging citizens to view security as a shared civic responsibility rather than the exclusive obligation of the state.
This moral authority is perhaps the least tangible, yet one of the most significant, assets that traditional institutions bring to contemporary policing. Respect accumulated over generations cannot be manufactured through legislation or acquired through technological investment. It is earned through sustained engagement with communities and reinforced by cultural legitimacy. While such authority cannot replace the constitutional responsibilities of the police, it can significantly strengthen the environment within which policing takes place.”
Conclusion
Ultimately, while the decentralization of Nigeria’s policing system may not be a silver bullet for the country’s complex security challenges, it could become one of the most effective components of a comprehensive solution. A policing framework that combines federal, state, and community participation—anchored by the active involvement of traditional institutions as was the practice in earlier times—offers a more sustainable approach to tackling the insecurity that has left Nigerians living in fear.
Today, insecurity has become one of the nation’s gravest concerns, rivaling—even surpassing in some communities—the economic hardship triggered by the removal of the petrol subsidy and the depreciation of the naira.
If all 36 state governors demonstrate the political will to prioritize security by investing in modern surveillance technologies, artificial intelligence, drones, forensic capabilities, and other intelligence-driven tools, while simultaneously harnessing the invaluable grassroots intelligence available through Nigeria’s traditional institutions and integrating it into the work of the nation’s security and intelligence agencies, the tide can be turned.
Such a coordinated and technology-enabled security architecture would not only strengthen crime prevention and law enforcement but also restore public confidence in government. In time, the tragic and unacceptable loss of lives to banditry, kidnapping, terrorism, and other violent crimes in a country that is not officially at war with any external aggressor could become a regrettable chapter in Nigeria’s history rather than its enduring reality.
Magnus Onyibe, an entrepreneur, public policy analyst, author, democracy advocate, development strategist, an alumnus of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, Massachusetts, USA, a Commonwealth Institute scholar, and a former commissioner in the Delta State government, sent this piece from Lagos.
