11 January, 2026
by Mohammed Bello Doka
Let it be clear from the outset: no sane Nigerian is opposed to any genuine intervention — local or international — that will finally secure Northern Nigeria. If foreign intelligence, targeted strikes, or strategic partnerships can dismantle terror networks and end the bloodshed, so be it. Security is not a regional favour; it is a constitutional obligation.
But when events collide with unusual timing, difficult questions must be asked.
On February 11, U.S. lawmakers floated a visa-ban proposal mentioning Rabiu Kwankwaso. Weeks earlier, Nigeria approved a $9 million lobbying contract in Washington. Over Christmas, U.S. airstrikes were conducted in Sokoto. Shortly after, Oluremi Tinubu — Pastor Remi Tinubu — attended the U.S. National Prayer Breakfast and was publicly acknowledged by Donald Trump, where she welcomed deeper security cooperation.
Coincidence? Or convergence?
If security is truly the priority, why does the conversation appear selective? Why is the North perpetually the theatre of experimental security models — negotiations one year, bombardment the next? Why has insecurity metastasised despite repeated assurances of “decisive action”?
Why were negotiations with bandits entertained at all? What signal does that send? When a state negotiates from weakness, does it not embolden criminal enterprise? Did ransom economics not inflate banditry into an industry? Who measured the long-term cost of legitimising violent actors through dialogue without dominance?
If the strategy now is force, why the sudden pivot? What changed — intelligence, pressure, politics?
Can the Nigerian Armed Forces defeat banditry and insurgency without foreign boots or bombs?
The record suggests they can.
Nigeria’s military has historically dismantled insurgent strongholds, reclaimed territories, neutralised high-value targets and degraded terror capacity when properly equipped, coordinated and politically backed. When adequately funded and strategically directed, the Armed Forces have demonstrated capability. So what is missing now — resources, will, or coherence?
The Niger Delta provides an instructive contrast. An audit revealed that the Nigerian National Petroleum Company spent over ₦17.5 trillion on pipeline security in that region over time. Seventeen point five trillion naira.
How much has been spent specifically securing Zamfara, Katsina, Sokoto, Niger, Kebbi, Kaduna, and other Northern states devastated by banditry?
What is the budgetary comparison?
Where is the transparency?
Where is the audit?
If oil infrastructure deserves trillions in protection, do human lives in the North deserve less strategic investment?
And what of political representation?
Northern Nigeria is not politically voiceless. There are Northern Muslim senators. Northern governors. Northern ministers occupying powerful federal portfolios.
What exactly are they doing?
Have they demanded full military mobilisation?
Have they pushed for special security funding?
Have they insisted on measurable benchmarks?
Have they confronted the executive privately and publicly?
Or are they spectators while their constituencies burn?
And then there is Kwankwaso.
At no time has Rabiu Kwankwaso been formally indicted — locally or internationally — for directing, financing, or orchestrating killings of Christians. No conviction. No charge. No court finding. He governed Kano — predominantly Muslim, yes — but also Northern Nigeria’s economic nerve centre, a state deeply intertwined with national commerce.
If a visa-ban conversation surfaces now, what exactly is the evidentiary basis? Is it legislative theatre? Is it geopolitical messaging? Or is it unrelated to Nigeria’s internal alignments?
Again: coincidence? Or something else?
Northern Muslims, already sensitive to perceptions of marginalisation, are asking whether security policy has become entangled with political calculus. They are asking whether their region is being stabilised — or strategically pressured. They are asking whether federal power listens when Northern villages fall, but reacts swiftly when Washington speaks.
And here lies the most uncomfortable question:
If foreign airpower becomes necessary to secure Northern Nigeria, what does that say about the stewardship of the Tinubu administration?
Is it an admission that domestic security architecture has failed?
Or is it a calculated escalation designed to project strength?
No accusation is being made here. Only questions. Hard questions. Necessary questions.
Security must never be politicised. Yet politics inevitably shadows security.
If intervention is about defeating banditry, then mobilise comprehensively. Fund transparently. Audit publicly. Empower the Armed Forces decisively. Demand accountability from governors. Demand oversight from senators. Demand measurable outcomes from ministers.
But if patterns appear selective, if timelines overlap suspiciously, if foreign diplomacy and domestic rivalry intersect — then scrutiny is not sabotage. It is civic duty.
The North deserves peace. Nigeria deserves clarity.
So we return to the central question:
Was Pastor Remi Tinubu’s U.S. visit part of a broader strategic recalibration focused solely on security — or are we witnessing a convergence of security diplomacy and political timing?
Coincidence — or something more deliberate?
Nigeria is watching.
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
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Opinion