The real enemy are bandits, not an 18-year-old girl

The unfolding drama in Sokoto State on the persecution of an 18-year-old girl, Hamdiyya Sidi Shariff, has made national headlines, not for what she said, but for the manner in which her state government responded. In a state that is plagued by insecurity, poverty and displacement, one would think that the Sokoto State government would […]

The real enemy are bandits, not an 18-year-old girl

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The unfolding drama in Sokoto State on the persecution of an 18-year-old girl, Hamdiyya Sidi Shariff, has made national headlines, not for what she said, but for the manner in which her state government responded.

In a state that is plagued by insecurity, poverty and displacement, one would think that the Sokoto State government would be investing everything it has in responding to the deepening crises afflicting its people. Instead, the focus of interest for the energy and machinery of the government of late is a troubling fixation: the harassment of an 18-year-old girl, Hamdiyya Sidi Shariff, for having the audacity to speak up in the face of hardship. This is more than a story of misplaced priorities. It is a tragic commentary on the nature of leadership in which power is used not to empower but to oppress.

Hamdiyya’s “transgression” was to raise her voice against the plight of displaced women and girls in the state, many of whom, out of pure poverty and desperation, are said to be selling their dignity for food. She had the audacity to hold her leaders accountable. She had the guts to utter the pain of the silent. In a sane society, her voice would be a call to action, an opportunity to question further, answer better, and rebuild trust between people and government. Instead, she was arrested, arraigned, fined, and even allegedly kidnapped and assaulted. The silence from the Sokoto State Government since then has been deafening. No condemnation. No word of concern. And so we are left to wonder: is this silence a confession?

Are the whispered speculations true? That the people involved in kidnapping her and threatening her with rape did not act alone? That there is an organised effort, one sanctioned or directed by influential hands, to silence this girl for good? These are not idle questions; they are pressing ones. Because in a working society, if a citizen, particularly a child, is hurt, the government doesn’t step back into silence. It comes to the defence of justice. But silence, in this instance, is starting to resemble complicity.

We are all aware that the insecurity in Sokoto did not start with this administration. The governor took over a crisis predating his term. No fair-minded citizen will expect him to solve a decade-long crisis overnight. But what the people also merit is leadership. One that is measured, humane, and strategic. Not an exhibition of revenge against a teenager. If displaced families were being resettled, if rural communities were benefiting from economic initiatives, if schools and health facilities were being restored, no one would be fighting over a teenager’s video. The only reason her words struck a chord is because they reflected the bitter truth many are living with.

In Nigeria, governors are in the daily doghouse. The governors of Kano, Kaduna, and, of recent, Zamfara have faced much harsher scrutiny, online and offline. However, none of them has responded with such petty, punitive and politically costly actions against private individuals, much less an 18-year-old. Any person who knows they cannot handle criticism has no business running for public office. Governance comes with scrutiny. Politicians who strive to serve sincerely allow their actions to speak for themselves—not their fists.

There is no shame in inherited problems. But there is deep shame in abusing power to silence the very people who are facing these hardships. Politics must be about solutions, not ego. Politics should prioritise service over showmanship.

Let’s even consider the possibility for a moment that Hamdiyya was manipulated by political opponents of the government who pressured her to speak as part of a broader ploy to embarrass the government. The government’s overreaction, its aggression, silence, and obsession have put the administration in the worst possible light more than the video ever could.

Hamdiyya’s words alone wouldn’t have ignited this storm. Sokoto has struggled with banditry and hardship for decades. People would have seen her post, discussed it, and moved on. But this systematic persecution has given the problem wings. What would have been a fleeting misstep has become a national shame. The enemies didn’t triumph due to her words but rather due to the response of the government.

The Sokoto State Government should understand that revenge has no place in governance. It is not about ego. It is not silencing the opposition. Leadership, at its best, is the capacity to listen to criticism, listen to the people’s laments, and implement reforms that bring hope. The girl whom they are prosecuting is not the enemy. Poverty is. Banditry is. Inadequate health infrastructure is. Poor schools are. Poor roads are. Malnutrition is.

Instead of wasting precious time and public resources locking up a child, the government should be channeling its resources into the following urgent areas:

  • Resettling displaced families and rehabilitating victims of insecurity.
  • Undertaking economic opportunities among rural youth and women.
  • Improving basic education and healthcare facilities.
  • Securing partnerships with local and foreign actors in sustainable development.

Great leaders are remembered, not for how aggressively they silence their critics, but for how sincerely they serve. Hamdiyya is not Sokoto’s shame but rather its mirror. Her voice rings out what so many keep silent. Her courage has turned the world’s attention to Sokoto. The question remains: what will the world behold?

Will it see a government more interested in silencing the truth than solving problems? Or a government willing to put aside pride and politics to grab the opportunity to actually make a difference? It is not yet too late to choose the latter. But each day the government remains silent, people’s trust in justice and in those who are elected to serve it continues to fade.

History is watching. So are we.