The hidden war within Nigeria’s military: Sabotage, politics, and stalled reform | By Oludare Ogunlana

A stronger and safer Nigeria will emerge not from swelling the ranks, but from transforming the institutions that lead them.
President Tinubu’s recruitment surge may generate political reassurance, especially under international pressure and heightened domestic fear. Yet, Nigeria cannot achieve lasting security by feeding more personnel into a compromised system. The nation must first confront insider corruption, rebuild doctrine, end political interference, and create a security culture grounded in merit rather than patronage.
Nigeria is once again preparing for a sweeping expansion of its security forces. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s recent declaration of a national “security emergency,” accompanied by an order to recruit tens of thousands of new police officers and soldiers, was framed as an urgent response to escalating kidnappings, banditry, and extremist violence. The announcement was designed to project strength at a moment of mounting public frustration and international scrutiny. Yet, beneath the symbolism lies a harder truth: Nigeria’s security failures are not rooted in insufficient manpower. They stem from a crisis of doctrine, integrity, leadership, and political will.

Despite commanding one of Africa’s largest security establishments, the Nigerian state continues to lose ground to decentralised militant networks that operate with speed, mobility, and ideological motivation. The persistence of insecurity suggests that expanding an already vast security workforce may reinforce, rather than resolve, the structural weaknesses that have undermined the system for more than a decade.

A Numerical Advantage That Has Not Produced Security
Nigeria’s security forces are large by global standards. With more than half a million uniformed personnel across the military, police, and paramilitary agencies, the state possesses a numerical advantage far greater than that of the armed groups terrorising communities. The imbalance is stark:
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In counterinsurgency theory, a 10-to-1 advantage is often considered sufficient for success, when discipline, coordination, and morale are high. Nigeria exceeds this threshold dramatically. Yet, insecurity continues to spread from the ravaged villages of the North-East to the volatile forests of the North-West, and the vulnerable towns of the North-Central. The numbers reveal a stark contradiction: the crisis is not about how many personnel Nigeria has, but how those personnel are used, supported, and led.
The Enemy Within: Corruption, Collusion, and Systemic Decay
Nigeria’s inability to convert numerical strength into meaningful security cannot be understood without confronting the internal decay that has quietly eroded its security architecture.
In recent years, court-martials have exposed soldiers and officers who diverted weapons and ammunition to bandits and jihadist groups. Some of the deadliest attacks were carried out with state-supplied firearms. The insurgency is fuelled, in part, by weapons slipping out of the very armouries meant to defeat it.
Tinubu’s mass recruitment order also overlooks the deeper doctrinal failures that shape Nigeria’s security operations. The nation’s security response remains reactive, centralised, and slow. Troops are often deployed only after attacks occur. Coordination among different branches is inconsistent, intelligence is poorly shared, and decision-making is mired in layers of bureaucracy.
Beyond operational leaks, Nigeria’s opaque “security vote” system has entrenched a network of conflict entrepreneurs who profit from protracted instability. Scholars and officials alike now describe the existence of an economy of insecurity, where political and bureaucratic actors benefit financially from prolonged conflict, rather than its resolution.
These structural failures extend to the welfare and morale of security personnel. Many soldiers serve under conditions marked by late salaries, inadequate equipment, limited medical care, and poor living standards. Reports of desertion, though often denied, reflect the predictable consequences of neglect. A force this large, burdened by internal betrayal and chronic under-support, cannot rely on numbers alone to deliver peace.
An Outdated Doctrine in a Modern Conflict
Tinubu’s mass recruitment order also overlooks the deeper doctrinal failures that shape Nigeria’s security operations. The nation’s security response remains reactive, centralised, and slow. Troops are often deployed only after attacks occur. Coordination among different branches is inconsistent, intelligence is poorly shared, and decision-making is mired in layers of bureaucracy.
The now-abandoned “Super Camp” strategy illustrates the consequences of doctrinal misalignment. Designed to consolidate and protect troops, the strategy left vast rural areas undefended, enabling militants to move freely, expand recruitment, and dominate ungoverned spaces. The state inadvertently ceded the terrain it sought to secure.
Recruiting tens of thousands of new personnel into this architecture will not create a more capable fighting force. It will only enlarge an institution unable to train or deploy its existing manpower effectively.
Leadership and Political Will: Nigeria’s Missing Link
Beyond numbers and doctrine, Nigeria requires a more fundamental shift: courageous leadership and genuine political will. The nation’s political elite must stop denying the depth of their governance failures and end the cycle of blaming external actors for a crisis rooted in internal weakness.
Nigeria needs a strategic reset built on integrity, transparency, and modern operational thinking. A dedicated counter-intelligence unit should be mandated to pursue insider threats with prosecutorial authority and transparent reporting. Security must become localised through properly structured state policing, professionally trained forest guards, and wider community-based intelligence networks.
The appointment of General Christopher Musa as minister of Defense is an encouraging development. He brings experience, credibility, and a clear understanding of Nigeria’s complex security terrain. However, the President must grant him both a clear mandate and the operational autonomy to lead. Successive defence ministers had complained privately that interference from the Presidency restricted their abilities to plan, reorganise, or execute major reforms. Without the freedom to act, even the most capable leader cannot transform the system.
Nigeria’s adversaries are highly motivated. Boko Haram and ISWAP fighters are driven by ideology and a theocratic worldview. Bandit networks, though often economically motivated, operate within increasingly organised and hardened structures. To counter such groups, Nigeria’s military personnel must feel equally motivated and supported. Morale cannot rise in an environment where soldiers are underpaid, under-equipped, and undermined by corruption.
One of the most corrosive practices weakening Nigeria’s security institutions is the enlistment of political loyalists, party foot soldiers, and unqualified cronies into the military and law enforcement agencies. This culture has compromised professionalism and discipline, and allowed political actors to embed influence within the security structures for personal gain. Patronage is not a recruitment strategy. No professional security system can thrive when political affiliation matters more than competence.
Nigeria does not lack capable officers. It lacks a political class willing to empower them.
A Strategy for Stability: Reform Before Expansion
Nigeria needs a strategic reset built on integrity, transparency, and modern operational thinking. A dedicated counter-intelligence unit should be mandated to pursue insider threats with prosecutorial authority and transparent reporting. Security must become localised through properly structured state policing, professionally trained forest guards, and wider community-based intelligence networks. Technology, particularly drones, surveillance systems, and integrated intelligence centres, should replace manpower-heavy border deployment. Welfare improvements must be prioritised before expansion. Finally, the country must embrace socioeconomic solutions that reduce the supply of young people who turn to militancy or banditry.
Rebuild the System Before Expanding It
President Tinubu’s recruitment surge may generate political reassurance, especially under international pressure and heightened domestic fear. Yet, Nigeria cannot achieve lasting security by feeding more personnel into a compromised system. The nation must first confront insider corruption, rebuild doctrine, end political interference, and create a security culture grounded in merit rather than patronage.
A stronger and safer Nigeria will emerge not from swelling the ranks, but from transforming the institutions that lead them. The country must first repair the basket before pouring in more water. Only then can recruitment support, rather than undermine, the pursuit of national stability.
Oludare Ogunlana is a national security scholar and consultant specialising in intelligence analysis, counterterrorism, and strategic security policy

