In my previous analysis published in The Shield Online on November 22, 2025, titled “Democratizing Defense: A Sovereign Solution to Nigeria’s Existential Security Crisis,” I argued vehemently for a paradigm shift in our kinetic approach to security. I posited that the centralized policing model has collapsed under the weight of Nigeria’s demographic and geographic vastness and since we are not ready for State/LG policing structure, I advocated for a regulated, South African-style private security industry. I stand by that recommendation. The democratization of defense is the hardware of our survival strategy. However, every hardware requires software to function, and in the context of nation-building, that software is elite consensus and political will to act on time.
We must face a stark, uncomfortable reality that often gets lost in the noise of diplomatic niceties and political correctness. The security crisis ravaging Nigeria is not a monolith. It is not an indiscriminate blanket of terror covering the entire nation with equal intensity. It is highly regionalized, specific in its drivers, and, most tragically, largely self-inflicted by the choices of the ruling class in the most affected areas. While the Federal Government under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu has taken commendable steps, including the establishment of Regional Development Commissions, these federal interventions are mere palliatives if the local patient refuses to take the medicine.
This follow-up treatise seeks to interrogate the sociological and political roots of the carnage in Northern Nigeria. We must move the conversation from the “what” (killings, kidnappings, banditry) to the “who” and the “why.” Drawing from critical sociological perspectives and the recent piercing observations by public affairs analyst Oni Gbolabo, we must confront the uncomfortable truth that the key to unlocking peace in the North lies not in the hands of the President in Abuja, nor in the boots of foreign mercenaries, but in the palaces, government houses, and boardrooms of the Northern elite. Until the Northern hegemony decides that the cost of insecurity outweighs the benefits of the status quo, the region will remain a theatre of blood.
The Sociology of Responsibility: Value-Creation vs. Value-Extraction
To understand the crisis in Northern Nigeria, one must first understand the purpose of an elite class in any given society. In classical sociology, elites are defined as a small minority within a group who hold disproportionate wealth, privilege, political power, or skill. They are the central decision-makers who shape the social, political, and economic systems. But elites are not created equal. Acemoglu and Robinson, in their seminal work on institutional economics, distinguish between “inclusive” (or value-creating) elites and “extractive” (or value-destroying) elites.
Value-creating elites understand that their long-term survival depends on the prosperity of the masses. They invest in education, enforce the rule of law, and build systems that allow for social mobility. They enlighten the poor because an educated populace is a productive asset. Conversely, value-extracting elites view the population merely as a resource to be exploited or a threat to be managed. They maintain power by grinding the poor to powder, keeping them in a state of perpetual tragedy, or trading them as political commodities.
When we examine the trajectory of Northern Nigeria over the last four decades, we are forced to ask: which category does the Northern elite fall into? The evidence points overwhelmingly to the latter. We have witnessed a systematic degradation of human capital that has no parallel elsewhere in the country. This is not an accident; it is a design feature of a feudalistic retention of power that has gone horribly wrong. The “Frankenstein’s monster” of banditry and insurgency that is now consuming the North is the direct offspring of this elite indifference. The region that now craves safety is the same region that nursed the philosophy of destruction to maturity.
The Myth of General Insecurity and the Tale of Two Regions
There is a prevalent, albeit intellectually lazy, narrative that describes Nigeria’s security challenges as uniform. This is a gross misrepresentation of reality. As Oni Gbolabo rightly observed, it is a “satanic lie” to give a carpeting statement that the entire Nigeria is insecure. Security, to a large extent, is a function of regional choices and elite consensus. The region that wants to stay safe is safer than those who deliberately inflict affliction upon themselves.
Compare the trajectory of the Southwest with the North. The Southwest is not populated by angels; it has its share of criminals, cultists, and rogue elements. However, the Southwest elite, across political lines, reached a consensus that anarchy was bad for business and bad for life. When the existential threat of herdsmen attacks and kidnapping loomed, the Southwest did not fold its hands or wait for the Federal Government. They formed Amotekun.
Crucially, Amotekun was not a collection of “scallywags with guns” like the early formations of Boko Haram or the anarchists of IPOB. It was a structured, legally backed state security network enacted by the State Houses of Assembly. It was a civilised response to barbarism. The Southwest elite refused to groom the likes of Nnamdi Kanu or Mohammed Yusuf. When Sunday Igboho wanted to transit into that route, the Yoruba elders rose up and warned him to be Omoluabi! They understood that you cannot ride the tiger of extremism without eventually ending up in its belly.
In contrast, as the Southwest was building institutions of defense, the North was seemingly at war with itself. We watched as a region ganged up against itself to kill its own kinsmen, cannibalize its own people, rape its own women, and chase elders from farms. This internal combustion cannot be blamed solely on external factors. It is a failure of internal regulation. If the Northern elites had displayed the same unity of purpose in security as they do in demanding oil block allocations or resisting restructuring, the banditry crisis would have been nipped in the bud.
The Almajiri Paradox: The Supply Chain of Terror
Perhaps the most damning indictment of the Northern elite is the persistence and defense of the Almajiri system. We are talking about a region that believes in its own religious solidarity and brotherhood, yet embraces a destructive pattern of life that involves sending a male child out of the home at the age of five with nothing but a plastic bowl. At an age when a child needs the grooming of a mother and the discipline of a classroom, millions of Northern children are thrown into the streets to beg for survival.
The statistics are harrowing. Of the estimated 20 million out-of-school children in Nigeria, a staggering 14 million are in the North. These are not just numbers; they are a standing army in waiting for recruitment by bandits, insurgents, and religious extremists. A child who has been rejected by society, who has no skills, no education, and no hope, is a prime candidate for anyone who offers him a gun and a sense of belonging.
The hypocrisy of the elite in this regard is nauseating. The same elites who passionately defend the Almajiri system as a cultural or religious right do not subject their own children to it. Their children are groomed to attend the Nigerian Defence Academy (NDA), to become Ministers, Senators, and Captains of Industry. They work in the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN), the Nigeria Ports Authority, and the Nigerian Mint. They serve as diplomats in the UK, USA, Germany, Qatar, and Canada.
This dual system, Harvard and Cambridge for the children of the rich, the plastic bowl and the street corner for the children of the poor, is the root cause of the insecurity. You cannot have peace in a society with such violent inequality. The “bandits” are essentially the discarded children of the North returning to demand their share of the commonwealth at the barrel of a gun. It is a class war disguised as banditry.
The Economics of Distraction: Gold, Oil, and Misplaced Priorities
The disconnect between the Northern elite’s priorities and the reality of their people is further illuminated by the region’s economic contradictions. There is a deafening silence from the Northern elite regarding the illegal gold mining in Zamfara State. For years, gold, a precious metal of immense value, has been mined in the North, treated largely as private property or controlled by cabals with no benefit to the state treasury. Yet, when the discussion turns to the oil in the Niger Delta, the same elites become fierce advocates of “federal character” and “national ownership.”
Why is the gold in Ilesa, Osun State, considered national property, while the gold in Zamfara is mined in the shadows, often fueling the very banditry that kills the locals? This double standard is blatant. If the gold in Zamfara were properly regulated and the revenue used to fund education and security in the state, Zamfara would not be the killing field it is today.
Furthermore, we must question the budgetary priorities of Northern state governments and their elite backers. Why is the sponsorship of mass weddings for the unskilled and unemployed a priority over the establishment of technical colleges and factories? What happens to the children produced from these state-sponsored weddings when the parents have no means of livelihood? They feed the Almajiri pipeline, completing the cycle of poverty and violence.
Why is the sponsorship of religious pilgrimages prioritized over security technology? Saudi Arabia, which is often cited as the model for Islamic practice, does not practice the Almajiri system. It does not allow open grazing of cattle to destroy farms. Saudi Arabia is modernising, diversifying its economy, and investing in high-tech security. Why can the Northern elite not copy the Saudi model of modernization instead of clinging to archaic practices that breed chaos?
The Resistance to Solutions and the Amotekun Saga
One of the most baffling episodes in recent Nigerian history was the Northern elite’s reaction to the formation of Amotekun in the Southwest. Rather than seeing it as a model to emulate, elements of the Northern leadership viewed it with suspicion and hostility. They went so far as to threaten legal action to challenge the Southwest’s right to defend itself against bandits.
This reaction betrays a deep-seated insecurity and a lack of strategic thinking. As Oni Gbolabo noted, someone from the region even wrote a senseless article titled “Why Southwest May not be Captured Easily,” framing the security outfit as an obstacle to some imaginary conquest. This mindset, that security is a zero-sum game, is dangerous. The writer found it difficult to write an article on ways to stop the incessant killings in his own zone, but found the energy to critique the safety measures of another.
This resistance to regional policing solutions has come back to haunt the North. While the Southwest has a coordinated (though not perfect) response mechanism, the North is left with a fragmented response, relying on the overstretched federal military and uncoordinated vigilante groups. The question must be asked: Why are the elites resisting the elimination of bandits? Why are they silent when 99% of the victims are their own people? Is it possible that the “conflict entrepreneurship”, the industry of kidnapping and defence contracts, has become too profitable for some to let go?
The Role of Regional Commissions: Moving Beyond Tokenism
President Tinubu’s administration has taken the right step by establishing Development Commissions for all regions. This theoretically creates a framework for localized development. However, the existence of a commission does not guarantee success; the quality of the elite running it does.
We must critically examine the performance of the Northeast Development Commission (NEDC). Too often, its interventions have been limited to the distribution of consumables, sharing biscuits, noodles, and temporary palliatives. While humanitarian aid is necessary, it is not development. You cannot eat your way out of an insurgency.
The Northern elites must demand that the NEDC and the newly formed Northwest Development Commission focus on structural transformation: massive investment in education, the re-orientation of mindsets, the establishment of ranching (not open grazing), and the creation of a security architecture that integrates technology.
In contrast, the Southwest Development Commission is taking off with the advantage of a region that already values education and structural integration. The Director-General and the board must be proactive, but the foundation is already there. The North has to build the foundation while the house is on fire.
A Call for a Structural Adjustment of the Mind
The incessant killings in Northern Nigeria are an existential threat not just to the region, but to the corporate existence of Nigeria. However, we must stop looking for the solution in the wrong places. The United States cannot save the North. The mercenaries cannot save the North. The President in Aso Rock, no matter how well-intentioned, cannot save the North if the North does not want to be saved.
The solution lies in a “Structural Adjustment of the Mind” of the Northern elite. They must move from being value-extracting lords of the manor to value-creating leaders of their people. This requires:
- A Consensus on Education: A total ban on the street Almajiri system, replaced by a state-funded, compulsory education system that integrates Western and Islamic education.
- Economic Realignment: A shift from relying on federal allocation and mass weddings to exploiting the region’s vast agricultural and mineral wealth for the benefit of the people.
- Security Domestication: The establishment of a regulated, tech-enabled regional security network (a Northern Amotekun) that works with the military but is rooted in local intelligence.
- Moral Courage: The courage to call out the conflict entrepreneurs within their ranks and hand them over to face justice.
The elites of the North have a choice. They can continue to play the ostrich, burying their heads in the sand while their region burns, hoping that their children in the NDA and foreign embassies will remain safe. Or they can rise to the occasion, emulate the best practices of their peers in other regions and nations, and chart a new course. The poor cannot lead this revolution; they are too busy trying to survive. It is the elites who broke the North, and it is only the elites who can fix it. The clock is ticking, and the fire is getting closer to the palace gates. I come in peace!