The battle within

Over the past few weeks, Nigerians have once again been confronted with troubling reports of kidnappings, attacks on communities, sexual violence, and the abduction of innocent citizens whose only offence was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. These incidents have understandably generated anger, fear, and frustration. They have also reignited national conversations […]

Over the past few weeks, Nigerians have once again been confronted with troubling reports of kidnappings, attacks on communities, sexual violence, and the abduction of innocent citizens whose only offence was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. These incidents have understandably generated anger, fear, and frustration. They have also reignited national conversations about security, governance, and the capacity of the state to protect its citizens.

These conversations are necessary. Citizens have every right to demand safety, and governments carry the responsibility to provide it. However, amid the outrage and recurring debates, there is an uncomfortable truth that is often overlooked. In our understandable focus on state institutions and security agencies, we sometimes under-examine the role of individuals within communities who, directly or indirectly, sustain the very insecurity we condemn.

This is not an attempt to shift blame away from institutions or to diminish the responsibility of government. Rather, it is an invitation to examine a fuller picture. Criminal enterprises do not operate in isolation. No kidnapping network survives on force alone. No armed group sustains operations without logistics. No criminal system endures without information, resources, or quiet accommodation from elements within society.

Recent arrests across different parts of the country continue to reveal a recurring pattern. Behind many violent incidents are individuals embedded within local communities. Some provide intelligence on movements. Others supply fuel, food, or logistics. Some offer shelter or access to routes. Others simply maintain silence when they observe suspicious activity. These individuals are often not outsiders. They are frequently part of the same social and economic environment as those affected by the violence.

This reality raises difficult questions. How do criminal groups reliably track targets? How do they know travel routes, timing, and vulnerability patterns? How do they sustain operations in remote environments for extended periods? How do they evade detection despite repeated security operations? While operational gaps in security response are part of the explanation, another consistent factor is the existence of enabling networks that make continuity possible.

At this point, the issue of poverty is often introduced, and it is an important part of the discussion. Economic hardship is real and widespread. Unemployment, inequality, and rising living costs create vulnerability and can increase exposure to criminal recruitment. These pressures cannot be ignored in any serious analysis of insecurity.

However, poverty alone does not explain criminal participation. Millions of Nigerians face severe economic difficulty without becoming informants or collaborators in violent crime. Hardship may create vulnerability, but it does not eliminate agency. If poverty were the sole determinant, entire communities would be uniformly involved in criminal activity, which is clearly not the case.

Fear is another important factor. In many environments, silence is driven not by willingness but by intimidation. The risk of retaliation against individuals or families is real. This fear must be acknowledged when assessing community behaviour. However, while fear may explain silence, it does not neutralise consequences. When threats are allowed to dictate collective behaviour indefinitely, criminal actors become more entrenched and more emboldened.

As a medical doctor and public health expert, I often view societal problems through the lens of disease prevention and control. One of the foundational principles of public health is that treating outcomes without addressing sources of transmission rarely produces sustained results. During infectious disease outbreaks, clinical care is essential. Patients must be treated, complications managed, and lives saved. However, if the source of infection remains active, new cases will continue to emerge regardless of the quality of treatment provided.

A parallel concept is well established in clinical infectious disease practice. In patients with localised bacterial infections, antimicrobial therapy is necessary but not always sufficient. When a well-defined source of infection exists, such as an abscess, recovery often depends on source control in addition to antibiotics. Without drainage or removal of the infectious focus, patients may experience temporary improvement followed by relapse or progression. This principle reflects a broader medical truth: durable recovery requires both treatment of symptoms and elimination of underlying drivers.

The same logic applies to insecurity. Security agencies may arrest perpetrators, rescue victims, and disrupt active operations. These actions are essential and often lifesaving. However, if the informational, logistical, and social support systems that sustain criminal activity remain intact, new actors will continue to emerge and replace those removed. In public health terms, this is analogous to treating cases while leaving transmission pathways unchanged.

This is why discussions about insecurity must extend beyond visible acts of violence and include the less visible systems that enable them. Policing and military responses are necessary but insufficient on their own. Community dynamics, social norms, and informal networks also shape the environment in which insecurity either thrives or declines.

Historically, communities played a central role in maintaining safety and order. Social accountability was stronger, and local vigilance acted as a deterrent to deviant behaviour. People knew one another, and unusual activity was more easily detected and questioned. Over time, however, this social cohesion has weakened in many settings. The result is not only reduced trust but also reduced collective capacity to identify and respond to emerging threats.

In some cases, harmful behaviours are normalised or ignored. Individuals with unexplained sources of wealth may be socially accepted without scrutiny. Narratives that glorify quick financial success can blur moral boundaries, particularly among younger populations. Over time, this erodes the informal social barriers that once discouraged complicity in harmful activities.

The consequences of insecurity extend far beyond immediate incidents of violence. They include disrupted education for children, abandonment of farmland, reduced economic activity, declining investment, and psychological stress across entire populations. Insecurity is therefore not only a security challenge but also a developmental and public health burden.

Every act that supports or facilitates criminal activity carries wider consequences than is often recognised. Information shared for financial gain can lead to targeted attacks. Resources supplied to criminal groups can sustain future operations. Silence maintained for convenience can contribute to harm experienced by others. These linkages are often indirect, but they are real.

None of this reduces the responsibility of the state. Governments must continue strengthening intelligence systems, improving response capacity, and ensuring that security personnel are adequately supported. Effective security architecture requires sustained institutional investment and coordination.

However, security cannot be entirely outsourced to institutions. Even the most sophisticated system can be weakened by local cooperation with criminal networks. Conversely, even limited state capacity can be strengthened by active community resistance to criminal infiltration. The outcome depends on the interaction between formal systems and informal social behaviour.

Ultimately, insecurity is not only a battle fought in forests, highways, or remote settlements. It is also a battle within communities themselves. It is a struggle over silence and disclosure, over complicity and resistance, and over the social conditions that allow criminal systems to persist.

If meaningful progress is to be made, then the conversation must move beyond demand for state action alone. Communities must also reflect on their role in either enabling or constraining insecurity. This includes rejecting the normalisation of illicit wealth, discouraging participation in criminal logistics, and strengthening local vigilance against suspicious activity.

The battle against insecurity requires coordinated effort. Government institutions, security agencies, and citizens all have roles to play. While those on the frontlines continue their difficult work, society must also confront the less visible dynamics that sustain violence.

Sometimes, the most significant threat is not only the armed actor in the distance. It is the quiet system of support that allows that actor to exist in the first place.