*Sam Akpe.
Tunde Ogunsakin, a lawyer and a retired police chief, has just given me a rude shock. He has forced me to admit that my sense of history is nearly pitiable. That may sound like a disrespect to my intellect, except that it is true. My knowledge of Nigerian history needs a resuscitation.
Wait a minute! I was the best history student in my class in secondary school. So, what happened? I may not have an immediate answer to that, because I still read as much literature as possible on Nigeria, whenever hunger does not embargo my appetite for that.
Several years ago, I deliberately renewed my devotion to Nigerian authors when the realisation hit me that I was more into American rather than Nigerian politics and history.
As a political correspondent with specialty in legislative matters, I had taken intellectual plunge into American legislative history as though my life depended on it. The reason was not far-fetched. America is the bedrock of the presidential system of government which Nigeria has adopted.
In our newsroom at that time, whenever anybody needed information on American legislative politics, I would be consulted. I felt good about it. The first shock came when my daughter started asking me questions about Nigerian politics—as she was taught in the nursery school. I confessed and repented.
Truthfully, what has contributed to my low knowledge of Nigerian history could be due to lack of reliable literature on the subject. Who writes history books again—except biographies and autobiographies which are personal histories with scanty references to the polity.
A few days ago, I tried to deepen my understanding of the unfulfilled desire called state police—a project that has been left on the drawing board of policy makers for decades. That was how I saw a research paper by the former Interpol crime investigator and British-trained lawyer, Bashorun Ogunsakin.
A few things struck me about Ogunsakin’s paper. First, it is written by a Nigerian police officer—though retired. Second, after reading a few paragraphs of the paper, I was smacked by the depth of exploration in terms of authorities cited and profundity of analysis.
As a student of research, I got engrossed, especially when I read a paragraph that reveals what I have never taken notice of—the fact that until the first military coup in Nigeria, the country was practicing the police system it inherited from the colonialists, which had both the central and the state police.
This was where I suddenly grasped the depth of my illiteracy on Nigerian politics and history. All along, it never occurred to me that state police had ever been a part of us—whether under colonial government or in the post-independence era.
What this implies is that once upon a time, we had a functional police system that embodied both the central and state police. Heavens did not fall. Regional leaders did not abuse the arrangement. The force was not politicised. Discipline reigned.
The next question that escaped from my thought was, so, what happened to terminate the arrangement, and why has it become so difficult to return to that era if the arrangement actually worked! This is where Ogunsakin’s researched paper becomes something to dwell on.
Before I return to my point of interest, let me state that state police, as defined by Corcoran in 1924, “is a specially organized and highly trained” police squad that is expected to operate under state command—not federal.
Aside from erudite training and organisation, Corcoran states that in selecting those to be enlisted in the force, the greatest care is usually taken to “eliminate political considerations and secure persons with the highest physical and moral qualifications and with more than average intelligence.”
That leaves me wondering whether that can happen in Nigeria—a country where moral bankruptcy—readiness to compromise—and political connections are considered as superior qualifications for such a job. Of course, we still have a few men and women of integrity in this country.
As observed by Ogunsakin, our inability to meet these demands may account for responsible for the delay in implementing the state police policy in Nigeria over the past decades.
As he put, for tens of years, the proposition for state police in Nigeria has remained in the shadows of national debate.
That is an indisputable conclusion, because the issue has been widely discussed by scholars, security analysts, and regional leaders, yet succeeding regimes have treated it as a politically sensitive reform that should be avoided.
The fear, states the lawyer, has always been that: if state governors take control of state police, the force “could be weaponised against political opponents or dissenting voices.” That is an argument no one can dismiss easily.
While the debate and counter debate continued, security challenges posed by rapidly expanding kidnapping economy, insurgencies, banditry, oil-related criminal networks, and other overlapping security crisis have posed threats to the citizens.
So, if state police were part of a security arrangements in Nigeria at a time when insecurity was not one of the national maladies plaguing the country, what has hindered its application at a time criminality has become the most lucrative industry in Nigeria?
Writing on the prospects, challenges and the future of internal security in an era of state police, Ogunsakin, often described as one of Nigeria’s best trained detectives, reveals that the cancellation of pre and post-independence state police was an official state policy enforced by the General Yakubu Gowon’s regime in the 1960s.
Citing Ohonbamu, the retired Assistant Inspector General of Police discloses in his paper that the late General Aguiyi Ironsi had set up what was called the Gobir Panel to examine and report on the necessity or otherwise of the state police—a report that was submitted to Gowon after Ironsi was murdered in a counter military coup.
However, the panel’s report, received and implemented by Gowon, condemned state police, stating that those recruited were poorly trained, corrupt, and were usually deployed for political purposes, mainly to terrorise dissenting voices against those occupying political chairs.
So, while Corcoran believed that state police were highly trained, greatly mobilised for crime prevention, and deliberately depoliticised, Gobir’s Panel labelled the Nigerian version as a complete contradiction—they were said to be corrupt, professionally unruly due to poor training, and politically partisan.
While the observations by the Gobir Panel cannot be dismissed in their entirety, the truth remains that even the federal police cannot be said to be completely different.
Most importantly, creation of state police is in line with democratic ideologies and equally aligns with the principle of federalism which Nigeria subscribes.
My layman’s conclusion is in line with that of Ogunsakin who states that from his experiences, the present Nigeria Police are not immune from the social malaise—corruption, indiscipline, and oppression—alleged to have afflicted the local police while they existed.
Ogunsakin’s view is that lack of state police has created serious historical imbalance in Nigeria’s version of federalism, because federalism is incomplete without the creation of a functional state police. This is based on examples across the world.
As a former Interpol Chief in Nigeria who has interacted with fellow policemen globally, Ogunsakin parades amazing records of crime investigations in Africa, Europe, the Americas and other parts of the world. It can be assumed that he is well exposed and authoritative on matters of policing.
However, does that make his position sacrosanct? It depends on individual mindset. I am persuaded to agree with him on the fact that like any other public institution in Nigeria, state police would require a lot of monitoring to enable it function the same way it does in other climes.
My concern is not really about political control—which would be a serious disadvantage. My support for state police stems from the position of the 2014 National Conference, that it would help bring down the high rate of criminal activities across the country, because like politics, crime is local.
In addition, Ogunsakin, writing as a lawyer and an accomplished law enforcement officer, states that it is both fallacious and incongruous to ascribe the managerial capability of an institution like the police force to the central government only, because criminal activities, especially insecurity, are not centrally-based.
His position is supported by Benjamin Kalu, the Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives who has been quoted as saying that a highly centralised policing system cannot adequately handle “the diverse and complex security realities” of Nigeria.
We are talking about a country with more than 230 million people and cows, spread across 36 states and 774 local government areas. If you are wondering about my inclusion of cows, it is because they also constitute a source of criminal activities which include destruction of peoples’ farmlands and crops—economic sabotage.
In Abuja for example, cows, controlled by underage shepherds, use our highways freely, blocking them while strolling along and competing with cars, trucks, and humans for space. Any attempt to confront the owners for a more disciplined operation could result in bloodshed.
So, as observed by the police chief, introduction of state police structure will empower each of the federating units in raising sufficient manpower to tackle its peculiar security concern. Each part of Nigeria has its own security needs which can only be tackled by the native security manpower.
Ogunsakin has in his researched article offered great advice that would help manage state police. Central to his suggestions is the persuasion for those entrusted with the management of the institution to fall back and learn valuable lessons from the pre-independence era and the early post-independence days.
How did the Native Authorities Police Departments handle the situation to avoid abuse of the system by politicians? He says this was done through enforcement of local ordinances, by-laws, rules and regulations of the localities which they presided. We know that things have changed, but there are still lessons to learn.
My other concern about State Police is that of funding. My fear is that if these policemen are not well paid, or if they are not paid on time, they could become the criminals they have been trained to confront. The moment they turn their training against us, then we are wrecked.
A clear line must also be drawn on power sharing to avoid conflict of interest and the struggle for dominance between the federal and state police. In countries where laws are obeyed, this would not be a problem. However, in Nigeria, it could pose a serious drawback.
Ogunsakin who has trained and served in peace-keeping operations in countries where state police have been institutionalised, still believes that with proper training on intelligence gathering, discipline—both by the police and government—and cooperation by the natives, state police would be a huge success in Nigeria.
Deputy Senate President, Barau Jibrin, and Deputy Speaker Kalu agree that state policing will reduce response times by law enforcement agents, improve intelligence gathering and enable security personnel to operate within communities they understand culturally, linguistically and socially.
This is because state police operatives, would be recruited from local communities. They already know the people, know the terrain, and even the criminals within the environments.
Everything being unequal, the belief is that with state policing, response to banditry, kidnapping, and other crimes within the localities will significantly improve our national security.