On Thursday, July 30, 2026, Saudi Arabia announced the formation of a 14-member Multinational Maritime Defence Coalition, ostensibly to guarantee freedom of navigation in the Bab el-Mandeb Strait and the Gulf of Aden. Its practical objective is to break the Houthi naval blockade of Saudi Arabia declared on July 20.
The founding members are Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Kuwait, Bahrain, Qatar, Jordan, Egypt, Pakistan, Djibouti, Somalia, Sudan, Yemen, Bangladesh and, yes, Nigeria.
Turkey, which has one of Europe’s largest militaries, brings NATO membership, a powerful navy and a strong economy. Pakistan, a nuclear power, is also being courted by the United States for its strategic importance in the Global South. Nigeria, meanwhile, may be regarded as the coalition’s African representative.
But the Houthis have survived a decade of Saudi-led military operations, including years of airstrikes and a naval blockade, without capitulating.
A maritime coalition unwilling to conduct effective ground operations in Yemen faces the same strategic limitations that previous anti-Houthi arrangements encountered. Saudi Arabia previously recruited black fighters from Sudan, only for many to be killed in a conflict that had little to do with them.
Even naval escorts and convoy systems cannot guarantee the safety of ships. The shore-based missiles and drones used by the Houthis cannot be neutralised from the sea alone.
The Houthis have also demonstrated their ability to challenge superior military powers, with the US military losing F/A-18 Super Hornet fighter jets and MQ-9 Reaper drones during operations in the region. Washington attributed some losses to accidents, mechanical failures and operational pressures rather than direct Houthi action.
Iran understands this dynamic. That may explain why Tehran’s response to the coalition appears to be one of patience rather than alarm. The Houthis survived the first Saudi-led coalition; Iran will calculate their chances against a second.
The proposed coalition could, however, be stillborn. Several countries that might be expected to support Saudi Arabia have either declined to join or expressed reservations. The UAE and Oman, for instance, have not signed the founding statement.
The United States has also rejected Saudi Arabia’s proposal, while European countries have been unable to establish a similar coalition. Yemen’s Houthi-linked Al-Masirah has described the proposed alliance as incapable of breaking the blockade or protecting targets within the range of Yemeni missiles and drones.
Even the British shipping publication Lloyd’s List reportedly questioned the coalition’s effectiveness, describing it as more of a political message than a naval force capable of changing the security situation in the region.
But where does Nigeria fit into all this?
Nigeria does have a five-year defence pact with Saudi Arabia, signed on December 9, 2025, covering military cooperation, intelligence sharing and counter-terrorism efforts. But can Nigeria mobilise Africa, or even West Africa, behind such an undertaking?
Nigeria is still battling Boko Haram, banditry, kidnappings and other armed groups at home. What would it mean for the country to confront an adversary whose missiles and drones have challenged the military capabilities of the United States, Israel and Saudi Arabia?
Saudi Arabia has American military bases, sophisticated weapons and enormous financial resources, yet it has struggled to defeat the Houthis. What, then, is Nigeria’s own there?
Nigeria has not even dredged the Niger River, yet it wants to help protect the Red Sea and Bab el-Mandeb Strait. What is Nigeria’s own there?
I would not object if Nigeria had derived substantial benefits from its relationship with Saudi Arabia. But what exactly have we received?
For instance, Nigerians do not obtain Saudi visas on arrival, except under privileged circumstances involving holders of Schengen, UK or US visas.
The King Salman Humanitarian Aid and Relief Centre has conducted periodic free medical missions in Nigeria, including eye-care programmes under Saudi Noor, specialised procedures such as hearing implants at the National Hospital, Abuja, and cardiac interventions in Kano. These, however, are temporary humanitarian programmes conducted in partnership with Nigerian public hospitals rather than permanent Saudi government facilities.
The Saudi German Hospital network also has a presence in Nigeria. Still, it is a private healthcare group founded by the Batterjee family and is not owned or operated by the Saudi government.
Saudi Arabia has supported the construction of numerous mosques in Nigeria through non-governmental organisations, royal donors and religious bodies. But where are the Saudi-funded hospitals, primary, secondary or tertiary institutions dedicated to engineering, medicine and modern sciences?
Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia has funded hospitals, schools and other infrastructure projects across several African countries. These include hospitals and schools in Zambia, a $75 million Mother and Child Referral Hospital in Guinea, the rehabilitation of the King Khalid University Hospital in Bujumbura, Burundi, and an 800-bed specialised gynaecological and paediatric hospital in Lusaka.
The Saudi government has also funded the $50 million Riyadh Referral Hospital in Sierra Leone and invested $28 million in regional public schools in Niger Republic. It has built a scientific secondary school and a higher college for teacher preparation in Benin Republic, with similar projects reported in Mozambique, Burkina Faso, Malawi, Senegal and Cameroon.
Yet none of these countries has been called upon to help Saudi Arabia fight the Houthis.
Perhaps that was partly what Burkina Faso’s President Ibrahim Traoré had in mind when he reportedly declined a Saudi offer to build 200 mosques and instead requested investments in schools, hospitals and job-creating infrastructure. He argued that Burkina Faso already had enough underutilised mosques and wanted the funding redirected towards vocational centres, hospitals and other development projects.
Saudi Arabia has enormous resources with which to entice countries to support its strategic interests. But there would be no need for all this brouhaha if Riyadh stopped doing the bidding of the United States and Israel, eased the restrictions imposed on Yemen and allowed the Yemeni people to breathe.
Then, to us: What is Nigeria’s “own” in fighting the Houthis for Saudi Arabia?
What have the Houthis done to Nigeria?
This is a fight we know little about, a conflict that does not concern us directly. Before committing Nigerian resources, personnel and lives to it, perhaps the government should first answer this simple question in pidgin English: Wetin be Nigeria’s own for di mata?
Concluded.
Hassan Gimba, ANIPR, is the Publisher and CEO of Neptune Prime.
