by Mohammed Bello Doka
14 March, 2026
When General Christopher Musa (retd.) was sworn in as Nigeria’s Minister of Defence on 4 December 2025, millions of Nigerians breathed a collective sigh of relief. Here was a soldier turned strategist — a man forged in the crucible of the nation’s toughest battles, accustomed to the fog of war and steeped in the discipline of military command. From frontline commands to strategic headquarters planning, General Musa’s résumé shimmered with the kind of experience that gave Nigerians hope: hope that the relentless waves of banditry, jihadist insurgency, and mass kidnappings might finally meet a determined, disciplined, and decisive response.
His appointment was not just another political shuffle; it was a clarion call to a nation battered by years of insecurity. For too long, communities have lived in fear, children have been abducted from schools, farmers massacred in broad daylight, and whole villages emptied into fear and flight. When Musa assumed office, Nigerians — from Sokoto to Sambisa, Katsina to Konduga — dared to believe that the tide was about to turn. The man entrusted with the defence architecture of the nation was a battle-tested general who knows the Nigerian theatre of war intimately.
But today — barely three and a half months into his tenure — those hopes stand at risk of drowning in a sea of bitter disappointment.
If insecurity was a rising tide when General Musa took over, it has since grown into a roaring flood. Not calm. Not contained. But worse. Far worse. And the question now is no longer whether incidents of violence are happening — it is how many, how brazen, and how deeply this crisis has continued to ravage Nigeria under his watch.
The Escalation That Refuses to Abate
From December 2025 through March 2026, the Nigerian security landscape has been ravaged by a series of major attacks that underscore a brutal truth: insurgents and criminal networks are acting with impunity.
In the northwest, bandits have continued their reign of terror. On 15 December 2025, a church in Aaaaz‑Kiri, Kogi State, was stormed — worshippers abducted, and entire communities thrown into shock. Weeks later, coordinated attacks from hideouts near the Kainji Game Reserve claimed at least 42 lives in villages around Kontagora Diocese. In mid‑January, about 172 worshippers were kidnapped in Kaduna State, nine of whom only survived by escaping. As 2026 unfurled, Katsina and Zamfara States reported dozens more killed, communities kidnapped, and lives shattered.
In the northeast and north‑central regions — territories long tested by Boko Haram and ISWAP — the violence has not merely continued; it has grown more brazen and coordinated. On 3 February 2026, Boko Haram’s Sadiku faction ravaged the towns of Woro and Nuku in Kwara State, slaughtering civilians and abducting scores. Villages in Borgu, Niger State suffered over 70 deaths later that month. By early March, entire communities were overwhelmed as militants abducted more than 300 civilians in widespread raids. Jihadist factions have also intensified attacks on military positions — overrunning bases, burning vehicles, and carting away ammunition and weapons.
And the Nigerian military — under the overarching leadership of General Musa — has continued to pay a heavy price.
The Price of Command: Lieutenant Colonels and Majors Killed in Battle
It bears repeating, not out of sensationalism, but urgency: no verified reports show that Brigadier Generals or higher have been assassinated by militants in this period. But what has happened is devastating enough — and entirely preventable.
Between 1 and 9 March 2026, in a staggering series of assaults on military formations in Borno State alone, at least three senior military officers were killed in direct confrontation with Boko Haram/ISWAP fighters:
Major Umar Ibrahim Mairiga, commanding a forward operating base in Bama, fought valiantly on 1 March but was overpowered and killed as militants overran his position.
On 6 March, Lieutenant Colonel S.I. Iliyasu, commanding the 222 Battalion in Konduga, fell in battle as insurgents set vehicles ablaze and seized scores of motorcycles.
On 9 March, Lieutenant Colonel Umar Faruq, commander of the Kukawa base and the 101 Brigade, was wounded and later died en route to medical care after militants overran the camp.
These were not junior officers forgotten in the field. These were battle‑seasoned commanders — experienced leaders whose deaths should make the highest levels of defence leadership reflect, reassess, and recommit. Their sacrifice demands answers, not platitudes.
The Contradiction That Cannot Stand
General Musa was not parachuted into the defence ministry as a civilian technocrat. No, he is a soldier who has seen war up close — a man steeped in Nigeria’s defence architecture, who has commanded troops, directed operations, and understood the brutal calculus of asymmetric warfare. His notable exploits — from strategic command roles in past counter‑insurgency campaigns to leading key operational formations — shaped his reputation as a leader capable of confronting insecurity.
Yet here we stand. Bloodshed continues. Militant audacity has not just endured; it has expanded into territories once thought distant from jihadist reach. Bandits roam, kidnap, kill. Boko Haram and ISWAP launch coordinated multi‑front assaults. Nigeria’s armed forces are engaged in pitched battles — and paying the price.
And the question reverberates across the nation: When will General Christopher Musa cross the red sea of insecurity? When will he turn the tide that continues to drown countless Nigerians in fear and loss?
Not Negotiating with Bandits — Then What?
At the outset of his tenure, General Musa reportedly refused to negotiate with bandits, insisting that strength and resolve — not compromise — would restore peace. This position resonated with a public tired of ransom deals that fuel criminal economies. But if refusal to negotiate is one pillar of strategy, what then is the other?
Because the brutal truth is that refusing to negotiate without a demonstrably effective operational response is not firmness — it is inaction with a moral veneer. It is a strategy in name without the corresponding results in reality.
Nigerians are not asking for miracles. They are asking for results. They are asking for leadership. They are asking for a defence minister whose name is synonymous with strategic victories, not repeated headlines of ambush, abduction, and overrun bases.
Reputation, Name, and Honour — On the Line
General Musa’s reputation, forged over decades of distinguished service, is tethered now to outcomes that Nigerians are watching with growing frustration.
Leaders are remembered by results. Not intentions. Not rhetoric. Not promises tucked into inauguration speeches. Results. And on that measure, over the past quarter, the narrative has been one of escalation — not containment; audacity from militants — not deterrence from state forces.
To the Minister of Defence himself: your name is on the line. Your honour is being tested not in the quiet corridors of Abuja but in the dusty fields of Borno, the forests of Katsina, the villages of Kaduna and the highways between them. Every attack that succeeds, every life that is lost, every commander killed in the field — these are not just statistics. They are stories of Nigerians who believed in change and are asking, Where is it?
A Call to Rise — Not Just Hold
If General Christopher Musa’s legacy is to be more than a chronicler of insecurity, then now — not in another quarter — is the time for decisive recalibration. The strategies must be elevated. The resources aligned. The tactics sharpened. The offensive posture not just declared but executed with precision and overwhelming resolve.
Banditry and insurgency will not vanish overnight. But they can be pushed back, contained, and eventually defeated. That requires a defence leadership that matches the ferocity of the threat with equal ferocity of action.
And above all, it requires a minister who will not merely hold ground — but gain it.
General Musa, Nigeria awaits. When will you finally cross your red sea?
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
Abuja Network News
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