9 May, 2026
On April 29, President Bola Tinubu stood before the nation and made a stunning admission that should alarm every citizen. Addressing stakeholders from Plateau State, he declared that the deadly violence sweeping across Nigeria—the bombings, the massacres, the kidnappings—is merely the handiwork of his "enemies" trying to "get rid of him". "You are playing into the hands of agents," he warned, "including my own enemies, who want to use insecurity to get rid of me. I'm a very stubborn politician. I just refuse to go. And I will campaign for my second term".
Days later, National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu boarded a flight to Washington, DC, for a "three-day working visit" with senior US officials, where he met Vice President JD Vance, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, Under Secretary Allison Hooker, and Assistant Secretary of War Daniel Zimmerim. The official readout from the State House spoke of "deepening cooperation on security, counterterrorism, regional stability, and strategic partnership". Ribadu briefed American officials on Nigeria's "whole-of-government approach" to tackling terrorism, boasting that Nigeria stands as a "frontline US partner against ISIS, Boko Haram, and rising terror threats across the Sahel". The two countries reviewed progress under the Nigeria-US Joint Working Group and committed to enhanced intelligence sharing, military cooperation, and border security.
But here is the question that must be asked: Did Ribadu go to the United States to fight terrorism or to report the "enemies" of Mr. President?
Because from the outside looking in, the optics are damning. One week, the president tells Nigerians that insecurity is a political weapon wielded by his opponents. The next week, his NSA is in Washington shaking hands with the most powerful figures in the Trump administration, presumably asking for more drones, more helicopters, more training to defeat an enemy the president himself has already told us is not a conventional terrorist but a political rival.
The contradiction could not be starker. A serious government does not first define its primary security threat as a political conspiracy and then dispatch its NSA to parade before foreign masters as a counterterrorism champion. A serious government treats terrorism as terrorism—not as a subplot in the drama of 2027 re-election politics.
Former Vice President Atiku Abubakar put it bluntly in his response to Tinubu, warning: "It is not political opponents who will judge this administration; it is the blood of innocent Nigerians being shed daily across our land. That blood cries out louder than any declaration of political resolve". Atiku went further, condemning the casual politicization of mass death: "It is disturbing that such a heinous incident has yet to attract the empathy or acknowledgement it deserves from the highest levels of government, while the loss of lives is instead framed as a political game".
The president's framing of insecurity as a partisan plot reveals not just his mindset but the inner logic of this administration: every challenge, every crisis, is first and foremost a political problem requiring a political solution. The security apparatus exists not to protect citizens but to protect the throne. The NSA's office is not a counterterrorism command but an instrument of political warfare. The evidence is piling up.
Consider the recent treason charges filed against six former and serving security officials accused of plotting to overthrow the government—the most serious prosecution of its kind since Nigeria's return to civilian rule in 1999. Consider Senate President Godswill Akpabio's extraordinary claim that bombings are "politically sponsored" by opposition elements to distract Tinubu, predicting that insecurity will "stop immediately following the 2027 elections" and that "for the first two weeks you will not hear a single bomb blast because people are sponsoring it to distract you". Consider the bitter feud between NSA Ribadu and former Kaduna Governor Nasir El-Rufai, which has escalated to the Federal Government suing El-Rufai over alleged phone interception, with El-Rufai counter-claiming that Ribadu directs security agencies to arrest political opponents. The lines between counterterrorism and political persecution have dissolved before our eyes.
A Tribune editorial published just days after Tinubu's speech captured the alarm: "By linking insecurity discourse to his 2027 re-election ambitions, the president risks conflating governance with campaigning". It further warned: "The president's assertion invites scrutiny. Who exactly are these 'enemies' and 'hostile forces'? Are they domestic political opponents, shadowy subversives, or external actors exploiting Nigeria's vulnerabilities? The ambiguity is unsettling".
The dangers of this approach are not theoretical. They are unfolding in real time.
First, the administration has given itself a ready-made excuse for failure. Every security lapse, every village massacred, every highway blocked can now be blamed on "enemies" rather than incompetence. This is not leadership; it is evasion. As the Tribune observed, "Effective governance would render such 'weaponisation' impotent. If highways are safe, villages secured, and citizens protected, there would be no crisis to exploit".
Second, the politicization of national security makes genuine counterterrorism impossible. When your intelligence agencies are busy identifying political opponents rather than tracking terrorist movements, when your military is distracted by loyalty tests rather than battlefield strategy, the only people who benefit are Boko Haram, bandits, and the criminal networks operating with impunity across the North.
Third, this government's approach offers a terrifying glimpse into what 2027 will look like. Already, the Tinubu administration stands accused of "running a deliberate and coordinated campaign to crush opposition voices and impose total political control ahead of the 2027 elections". Atiku has warned of "a civilian coup, denying Nigerians real options while pretending to run a democracy". Alleged coup plots, treason charges against security personnel, the weaponization of security agencies, the intimidation of political rivals—these are not the hallmarks of a confident government seeking reelection; they are the desperate acts of a regime that believes it cannot win fairly.
The northern youth group, Tinubu–Arewa Peace Initiative, recently issued a stark warning that should send shivers through the corridors of Aso Rock: "Secure our lives or forget our votes in 2027". The group's leader declared: "The youth of Northern Nigeria are tired—tired of insecurity, tired of fear, and tired of leadership that prioritizes personal interests over the welfare of the people". That warning cuts to the heart of the matter. Nigerians are not asking who Tinubu's enemies are. They are asking why bandits have not been crushed, why kidnappings have become a national industry, why farmers cannot return to their fields. They are asking where the billions spent on security have gone.
Meanwhile, the United States has designated Nigeria a "Country of Particular Concern" over religious freedom violations, and the Joint Working Group Ribadu attended was established partly in response to that designation—meaning that while the NSA was in Washington touting Nigeria's counterterrorism credentials, his own country is officially listed alongside some of the world's worst violators. That is the real report card.
Nigerians must be watchful. The moment a government tells you that its problems are caused by secret enemies, it is preparing to use the instruments of state against its own citizens. The moment security becomes synonymous with political survival, every Nigerian becomes a potential suspect. The moment a president frames his re-election campaign as a battle against invisible saboteurs, democracy itself is in jeopardy.
We do not ask for perfect governance. We do not ask for immediate solutions to a crisis decades in the making. But we must insist on honesty. We must insist on clarity. And we must insist that the blood of the slain not be reduced to a talking point in a presidential campaign.
Did Ribadu go to Washington to fight terrorism or to report on the Commander-in-Chief's enemies? Perhaps he went for both. Perhaps the official readout and the reality are two entirely different things. The problem is that Nigerians are the ones paying the price for the confusion—with their lives, their loved ones, and their futures.
A government that sees insecurity only as the antics of its enemies is not a serious government. It is a paranoid one. And a paranoid government with access to security agencies, intelligence networks, and military hardware is the most dangerous thing a democracy can produce.
Let the NSA's next briefing be about terrorists, not political opponents. Let the president's next address focus on strategies to protect communities, not campaign promises. And let every Nigerian citizen demand accountability before the next bloodshed is once again blamed on the invisible "enemies" whose names we are never told.
Because if insecurity truly is a political weapon, who is really holding it? And who, in the end, is really aiming it?
Mohammed Bello Doka can be reached via [email protected]
Abuja Network News
Tags
Opinion