There comes a point in the life of every nation when repeated acts of criminality cease to be ordinary security challenges and become direct assaults on its very existence. Nigeria has reached that point with the persistent kidnapping of schoolchildren.
When criminals invade schools, abduct innocent pupils and students, and drag them into forests and hideouts, they are doing far more than committing crimes. They are attacking the nation’s future. They are declaring war on education. They are threatening the hopes and aspirations of generations of young Nigerians whose only offence is their desire to learn.Â
More importantly, they are touching Nigeria’s tail like that of a viper. And when a viper’s tail is touched, it reacts. A viper does not negotiate with danger. It does not hesitate. It does not convene endless meetings to determine whether a threat exists. It does not issue carefully crafted statements while its aggressor gains ground. The moment its tail is stepped on, it coils, identifies the source of the threat, and strikes with speed, precision, and overwhelming force.
The foregoing characteristic of a viper is the lesson nature teaches. It is a lesson that Nigeria’s leaders must urgently learn. Every kidnapped child is a hand placed on Nigeria’s tail. Every classroom invaded is a challenge to the authority of the state. Every frightened pupil marched into captivity is an insult to the nation’s sovereignty.Â
It is unfortunate that the tragedy has always been immediate, while the response has often been tardy. Over the years, Nigerians have watched a disturbing pattern emerge. Criminals attack schools. Children disappear. Parents panic. Government officials issue statements. Security agencies promise action. Days turn into weeks. Negotiations begin. Ransoms are discussed. Eventually, some victims regain their freedom while the perpetrators often escape to strike again. That cycle must end.
The kidnapping of schoolchildren is not merely a security issue. It is a national emergency. Children are the most valuable assets any nation possesses. They are more important than oil wells, mineral deposits, highways, airports, or government buildings. Within every classroom sits a future doctor, engineer, teacher, scientist, journalist, entrepreneur, inventor, governor, or president. Every child carries within him or her a future contribution to national development.
When children are kidnapped, dreams are kidnapped. When schools are attacked, the future is attacked. When education is disrupted, national progress is disrupted. That is why the abduction of schoolchildren should provoke outrage far beyond the immediate communities affected. It should trigger a national response because the consequences affect everyone.Â
Sadly, Nigeria’s painful history is littered with examples. The world watched in horror in April 2014 when more than 270 girls were abducted from Government Girls Secondary School in Chibok, Borno State. The incident became one of the most notorious school kidnappings in modern history and gave rise to the global “Bring Back Our Girls” campaign. Yet even that tragedy failed to become the decisive turning point many Nigerians had hoped for. In February 2018, dozens of schoolgirls were abducted from Government Girls Science and Technical College, Dapchi, in Yobe State. In December 2020, more than 300 students were kidnapped from Government Science Secondary School in Kankara, Katsina State. Then came the abductions at Jangebe in Zamfara State, Afaka in Kaduna State, Greenfield University, Bethel Baptist High School, and several other institutions across the country.
What was once considered an isolated security challenge evolved into a thriving criminal enterprise. Schools became targets. Students became commodities. Parents became victims of extortion. Entire communities became prisoners of fear. Unfortunately, recent events demonstrate that the danger remains very much alive.
The recent abduction of schoolchildren in Oyo State sent shockwaves across Nigeria. For many citizens, the incident was particularly alarming because it challenged the belief that mass school kidnappings were largely confined to northern Nigeria. It served as a painful reminder that insecurity respects no geographical boundaries.
At almost the same time, reports emerged from Borno State of another school-related abduction, reopening wounds that many believed had begun to heal after Chibok. The symbolism could not have been more disturbing. More than a decade after the Chibok girls were taken, children in the same state remain vulnerable to attacks by those who view education as a target.
As if that were not troubling enough, authorities in Edo State have ordered the temporary closure of schools in vulnerable communities because of security concerns and fears of possible attacks. Think about that for a moment. Schools are not being closed because of flooding. They are not being closed because of epidemics. They are not being closed because of natural disasters. They are being closed because authorities fear that children could be kidnapped. That reality should trouble every Nigerian. A nation where children cannot safely attend school is a nation whose future is under siege.
Indeed, one of the most devastating consequences of school kidnappings is the climate of fear they create. Many parents now live with the anxiety that sending their children to school could expose them to grave danger. Some have withdrawn their children from school altogether. Others have relocated. Many children who survive abduction carry emotional scars that remain with them for years.
In numerous communities, enrolment figures have declined as parents struggle to choose between education and safety. This is precisely what kidnappers, bandits, and terrorists want. They seek not only money but also fear. They seek not only ransom but also disruption. They seek not only victims but also the collapse of confidence in the ability of the state to protect its citizens. That is why Nigeria must adopt the viper’s response. When a viper’s tail is touched, it reacts immediately because delay can be fatal. It understands that hesitation emboldens the aggressor. Nigeria must think the same way.
The moment schoolchildren are abducted, the full force of the state should swing into action. Intelligence agencies, military units, police formations, surveillance teams, local security networks, and technological assets should be mobilized without delay.
The reason for the advocacy of viper-like reaction in this context cannot be farfetched as every minute matters, even as every hour counts. Every day lost increases the suffering of victims and improves the chances of escape for their captors.
In fact, the first rule of the viper’s response is speed. The second is precision. Nigeria’s security agencies must improve intelligence gathering and preventive operations. The objective should not merely be rescuing victims after attacks occur. It should be identifying and dismantling kidnapping networks before they strike. A nation should not be perpetually reacting to criminals. It should be staying ahead of them.
The third lesson from the viper is force. Kidnapping syndicates must be dismantled completely. Not partially. Not selectively. Completely.
The gunmen who carry out attacks are only one part of the problem. Behind them are financiers, informants, collaborators, suppliers, negotiators, and sponsors. As long as these networks remain intact, school kidnappings will continue. The message must be unmistakable: anyone involved in the kidnapping of children will face consequences severe enough to deter others.
Schools must also be protected as strategic national assets. Governments at federal, state, and local levels should invest heavily in school security. Vulnerable schools should be equipped with perimeter fencing, surveillance systems, emergency communication facilities, and trained security personnel.
In a similar vein, communities must also become active partners in intelligence gathering and security monitoring. Protecting children cannot be left to government alone.
In fact, parents, teachers, traditional rulers, religious leaders, and community groups all have critical roles to play. At the same time, government must address the broader socio-economic conditions that enable criminality to flourish. Poverty, unemployment, corruption, and weak law enforcement continue to create fertile ground for criminal enterprises.
However, while long-term reforms are important, they should never become excuses for immediate inaction. When children are kidnapped, action must come first. There is no national priority greater than the protection of children. Roads can be rebuilt. Bridges can be reconstructed. Economies can recover. But a childhood stolen by terror can never be fully restored.
The tears of parents waiting for news of abducted children cannot be quantified. The fear endured by children in captivity cannot be measured. The trauma often follows victims long after they regain their freedom.Â
In fact, Nigeria owes its children more than sympathy. It owes them security. It owes them protection. It owes them the freedom to learn without fear.
The tragedies of Chibok, Dapchi, Kankara, Jangebe, Afaka, Greenfield, Bethel Baptist, the recent abductions in Oyo and Borno, and the school closures prompted by insecurity in Edo State must not become mere entries in the nation’s growing archive of sorrow. They must become turning points. They must become the moment when Nigeria finally decides that enough is enough. The kidnappers have touched Nigeria’s tail.
The question now is whether the nation will continue to react with hesitation or finally reacts like a viper. Swiftly. Decisively. Relentlessly. Until every classroom is safe. Until every child is protected. Until every parent can send a child to school without fear.
And until every criminal who dares to target Nigeria’s children understands that attacking the nation’s future carries consequences too severe to contemplate. That is the viper’s lesson. That is the response Nigeria owes its children.
