Northern Nigeria is bleeding. It is a wound so deep and festering that its pus has seeped into the very fabric of daily life. The recent revelations by Lt Gen Abdulrahman Bello Dambazau (rtd), former Minister of Interior, at the First Media and Security Summit in Birnin Kebbi are not merely alarming—they are a damning indictment of decades of systemic neglect. In his words, “bandits and insurgents have taken some of our communities, taxing and making laws for them.” Imagine a place where criminals dictate the rules, where fear replaces governance, and where the people’s lives are collateral in a theatre of chaos. This is not fiction; it is the lived reality for millions in Katsina, Borno, Zamfara, and Kano.
For over twenty years, the North has endured a slow burn of insecurity, a fire smoldering under the ashes of indifference and policy failure. Dambazau’s account is a chilling reminder of what many have long suspected: the state is ceding ground to chaos. Mosques have been desecrated with blood, farmers’ toil destroyed, and entire communities displaced. Yet, while the shadows of violence grow longer, the machinery of governance seems to operate in slow motion, as if unmoved by the human suffering it is meant to alleviate.
The human cost is incalculable. Thousands have lost their lives. Millions are uprooted, wandering in limbo, stripped of dignity and security. Widows and orphans multiply like silent testaments to government inaction. The North, a region historically known for its resilience, now trembles under the twin spectres of terrorism and banditry. What Dambazau lays bare is the grotesque normalisation of criminality, where people no longer look to elected officials for protection but to armed gangs that levy taxes and enforce decrees.
This is a moral crisis as much as it is a security one. It is a clarion call for northern governors to reimagine governance not as a ceremonial exercise but as a lifeline to their people. Dambazau’s recommendation to establish Ministries of Mineral Resources and engage federal agencies to harness natural wealth is not merely administrative advice—it is a roadmap to self-reliance, poverty alleviation, and, crucially, the undermining of criminal economies that flourish in despair. Wealth unharvested is opportunity lost, and in the North, opportunities have been stolen as surely as the cattle rustled from farmers’ lands.
Agriculture, the lifeblood of northern Nigeria, has been decimated. Farmers are fleeing from fields that once fed entire communities. Herders lose their cattle to rustlers, and yet, the state appears paralysed, caught between bureaucracy and impotence. Dambazau is blunt: restoring agriculture, empowering traditional institutions, addressing out-of-school children, and embracing social inclusion are not optional—they are existential. The North cannot continue to survive on slogans while its children go hungry, its lands lie fallow, and its people are terrorised.
The spectre of religious extremism compounds the misery. Groups like Boko Haram and Lakurawa exploit the vacuum of governance, and the moral scaffolding of society is eroded under the weight of ideological manipulation. Dambazau’s observation that over seventy percent of the North’s poor are victims of insecurity is not just a statistic; it is a mirror reflecting the failure of leadership. Poverty and violence feed one another in a vicious cycle, and until this spiral is addressed, any talk of development remains a hollow echo.
Voices from the summit, including that of the Sultan of Sokoto, Alhaji Muhammad Sa’ad Abubakar III, remind us that security is not the responsibility of the state alone. “We need to come together to talk with each other on how to solve this problem,” the Sultan urged. Dialogue and cooperation are essential, yet they cannot substitute for decisive action. Words without implementation are like shadows at dusk—present but powerless.
Governors Abdullahi Sule of Nasarawa and Nasir Idris of Kebbi stressed the importance of collective introspection and the examination of root causes, including climate change. While environmental and socio-economic factors undoubtedly play a role, the deeper malaise is governance itself. For decades, leadership has oscillated between reactive policies and symbolic gestures, leaving citizens to fend for themselves. A summit is a necessary forum for discourse, but discourse without follow-through is no better than a mirage in the desert: it offers hope but delivers nothing.
It is high time for northern leaders to act with the courage and vision that the situation demands. Creating ministries to manage resources, reviving agriculture, protecting traditional institutions, and ensuring social inclusion are steps toward reclaiming territories from the hands of lawless elements. These are not mere administrative tasks; they are acts of moral restitution for generations living under the shadow of terror.
The North is at a crossroads. It can continue to be a playground for bandits and extremists, where lawlessness becomes the law, or it can choose governance, justice, and human dignity. Every day that passes without action is another day that the social fabric frays, another life lost, and another future stolen. Leaders must see that security is not an abstraction; it is the oxygen upon which life itself depends.
Inaction is a luxury Northern Nigeria can no longer afford. Dambazau’s indictment is clear: decades of neglect and failed policies have brought communities to the brink. Bandits collect taxes, insurgents enforce laws, and the state is left watching from the sidelines. The remedy is within reach, but it requires vision, courage, and, above all, a commitment to place human life above politics.
The North deserves better. Its children deserve to attend school without fear, its farmers deserve to till land without threat, and its citizens deserve to live in a society where the rule of law prevails over the rule of fear. Anything less is a betrayal of both history and humanity. The summit in Birnin Kebbi is a chance not just to talk, but to act. It is time to turn words into deeds, hope into action, and despair into recovery.
Northern Nigeria stands at the precipice. Let it not be remembered as the land where bandits wrote the laws. Let it be remembered as the region that rose from its ashes, reclaimed its dignity, and restored security, justice, and human prosperity. The choice is now. The people are watching.
Stanley Ugagbe can be reached via stanleyakomeno@gmail.com
