The nadir stares

Nigeria awoke to yet another national tragedy with reports of the kidnapping and subsequent death of Major General Rabe Abubakar at the hands of bandits in Katsina State. The killing of a senior military officer—one who dedicated a lifetime to defending the territorial integrity and sovereignty of the nation—should have provoked a wave of national […]

Nigeria awoke to yet another national tragedy with reports of the kidnapping and subsequent death of Major General Rabe Abubakar at the hands of bandits in Katsina State. The killing of a senior military officer—one who dedicated a lifetime to defending the territorial integrity and sovereignty of the nation—should have provoked a wave of national outrage, emergency security reviews, solemn official reflections and a renewed determination to confront the monsters threatening the Nigerian state.

Instead, the response has been disturbingly muted. The silence has been loud. The urgency absent. The empathy almost non-existent.

One would have expected a nation confronted with such a grave development to pause and reflect on what it says about the state of its security architecture. Yet official reactions have largely followed the familiar pattern of routine statements, bureaucratic condolences and the customary promise that perpetrators will be brought to justice. Beyond these predictable responses, there has been little indication that the death of a Major General in the custody of bandits has triggered the level of alarm such an extraordinary event ought to generate.

This is not merely about the death of one distinguished officer. It is about what his death represents.

If a Major General of the Nigerian Army can fall victim to criminal gangs operating within Nigeria’s borders, what message does that send to ordinary citizens? If someone who once stood among the nation’s foremost security professionals could not be protected from the growing menace of banditry, what assurances remain for farmers cultivating their lands, traders moving goods across highways, students travelling to schools, or rural communities that retire each night in fear?

The killing of Major General Rabe Abubakar should have shaken the conscience of the nation. Instead, it appears to have been absorbed into the endless catalogue of insecurity that Nigerians have unfortunately become accustomed to. Such normalisation of tragedy may be even more dangerous than the tragedy itself.

For a country that once prided itself on possessing one of Africa’s most formidable military establishments, the circumstances surrounding the kidnapping and death of a senior military officer constitute a devastating indictment of the current security situation. It is not merely a personal loss to his family, colleagues and the armed forces. It is a symbolic assault on the authority and credibility of the Nigerian state.

And that is precisely why the nation must confront an uncomfortable truth: Nigeria may be approaching one of the lowest points in its modern security history.

The word nadir represents the absolute lowest point in the fortunes of a people, an institution or a nation. It is the stage where decline ceases to be a warning and becomes a reality. It is that dreadful moment when excuses no longer suffice, promises lose credibility, and citizens are left staring helplessly into an abyss of uncertainty.

Today, the signs are everywhere.

Barely months ago, official pronouncements from the nation’s security establishment projected optimism. The National Security Adviser publicly suggested that Nigeria had become considerably safer and that ongoing military operations were yielding positive outcomes. Yet events on the ground have painted a profoundly disturbing picture that sharply contrasts with such assurances.

Nothing better illustrates this contradiction than the kidnapping and death of Major General Rabe Abubakar. Before the nation could recover from that shock, memories resurfaced of previous abductions involving senior military figures and the growing inability of the state to secure even those who once occupied the highest levels of the security hierarchy.

The symbolism is devastating. If generals are no longer safe, who is?

The tragedy is not isolated. In recent years, Nigeria has witnessed the killing of serving military officers and soldiers in repeated insurgent attacks across the North East. Despite billions of naira appropriated annually for defence and security, attacks on military formations continue to occur, sometimes resulting in significant casualties among troops and civilians alike. Boko Haram and ISWAP remain capable of mounting deadly operations, while bandit groups have transformed large swathes of the North West into theatres of fear.

Perhaps nowhere has the collapse been more visible than in the education sector. The world remembers Chibok. Yet years later, mass abductions have become almost routine. Hundreds of schoolchildren have been kidnapped from schools across Kaduna, Niger, Zamfara, Katsina and Kebbi states. Schools that should symbolise hope have become theatres of terror.

The warnings have been coming from unusual quarters. Traditional rulers, including prominent emirs across Northern Nigeria, have repeatedly sounded the alarm over the worsening security situation. Their warnings are not political interventions. They are desperate appeals from leaders watching their communities endure relentless attacks.

The figures tell a troubling story. Defence and security allocations continue to rise into trillions of naira. Supplementary appropriations are routinely approved. Special interventions are frequently announced. Yet the average Nigerian feels less secure Today than at any time in recent memory.

More troubling is the normalisation of failure.

Every major attack is followed by familiar rituals. Condemnations are issued. Meetings are held. Committees are established. Assurances are repeated. Yet communities continue to be attacked, highways remain unsafe and criminal groups continue to operate with frightening audacity.

Meanwhile, the political class appears increasingly consumed by calculations for future elections. Alliances are being negotiated. Political structures are being activated. Campaign strategies are quietly taking shape. Across many parts of the country, re-election politics appears to command more energy than national security.

The National Assembly, constitutionally empowered to oversee security expenditure and demand accountability, has largely remained a spectator. State governments routinely lament insecurity while failing to build resilient local intelligence and community protection structures. Local governments remain weak and largely absent from security planning.

The consequences are evident. Farmers abandon farms. Food production declines. Rural economies shrink. Schools close. Communities are displaced. Investments disappear. National confidence erodes.

The death of Major General Rabe Abubakar should, therefore, not be viewed merely as another tragic headline. It should be understood as a warning. A warning that criminal groups have become emboldened. A warning that state authority is increasingly challenged. A warning that citizens are losing confidence in the capacity of government to protect them.

History teaches that nations do not suddenly arrive at their lowest point. They drift there gradually through ignored warnings, repeated failures and institutional complacency.

The solutions remain clear. Intelligence-led operations must replace reactive responses. Traditional institutions must be integrated into security planning. Community policing structures must be strengthened. Advanced technologies including drones, satellite surveillance, artificial intelligence-assisted intelligence analysis and integrated command centres must be aggressively deployed. Security budgets must become transparent and accountable. Most importantly, political leadership at every level must demonstrate that securing lives and property is a higher priority than securing electoral victories.

For now, however, the nation confronts an uncomfortable reality.

A Major General has reportedly died in the hands of bandits.

The response has been alarmingly subdued.

And the nadir continues to stare directly at us.

 

Hamza resides in Kaduna