Tragedies of school abductions

The abductions in Borno and Oyo states in recent weeks are not isolated tragedies. They are a terrible reminder that Nigeria’s war on insecurity is far from over. It is also a  reminder that the frontline of that war now includes our classrooms, sadly. In Borno, armed men once again struck at the heart of […]

The abductions in Borno and Oyo states in recent weeks are not isolated tragedies. They are a terrible reminder that Nigeria’s war on insecurity is far from over. It is also a  reminder that the frontline of that war now includes our classrooms, sadly.

In Borno, armed men once again struck at the heart of a community already scarred by over a decade of insurgency, snatching students and leaving families in anguish. In Oyo, the script was tragically familiar: gunmen invading a school, shattering the routine of learning, and carting away children. The details differ. The outcome is the same—fear, trauma, and a nation forced to ask how long this will continue.

We should all be alarmed in the sense that demands immediate, sustained, and visible action. Each abduction is an attack not just on those taken, but on the idea of Nigeria’s future itself.

Schools are supposed to be sanctuaries of learning, a place where the future is built, where young ones feel safe and assured. When they become hunting grounds, we are telling an entire generation that their future is expendable.

It is easy, and convenient, to blame school authorities. But that is a deflection because teachers and proprietors do not control the security architecture of this country. While they have a role to play, they do not command battalions, manage intelligence networks, or deploy surveillance assets. That responsibility lies with government at the federal, state, and local levels.

The failure here is one of governance—failure to secure borders, failure to dismantle criminal networks, failure to punish those arrested, failure to provide the basic condition of security without which no society can function.

This failure carries a cost beyond the immediate pain of the families affected. It is a major disincentive to education. Parents in rural and semi-urban areas are already weighing the risk of sending a child to school against the risk of never seeing that child again. Girls, in particular, bear the brunt. Every high-profile abduction sets back gains in girls’ enrollment and retention by years.

When parents choose to keep children at home, it is not because they undervalue education. It is because government has failed to make education safe. The long-term consequences are severe. Nigeria already has over 10 million out-of-school children, the highest figure globally. Insecurity is turning that statistic into a permanent feature. A generation denied education becomes a generation vulnerable to recruitment by criminal gangs and extremist groups—the very forces terrorizing the country today. We are, in effect, feeding the cycle of violence with our inaction. Acting decisively to protect schools is not optional.

It is the minimum requirement of a state that claims legitimacy. That starts with implementing and funding the Safe Schools Initiative properly, not just as a policy document but as an operational plan with clear lines of responsibility. Every school in high-risk areas needs a risk assessment, physical security upgrades, and a direct line to rapid response forces.

Community involvement matters, but it cannot substitute for professional security. Intelligence and early warning systems must be strengthened. Too often, communities report suspicious movements only for those reports to go unheeded until after an attack. Coordination between the military, police, civil defence, and local vigilante groups needs to be seamless, not hampered by turf wars and bureaucracy.

Prosecution is equally critical. Kidnappers thrive on the expectation of impunity. Fast, transparent trials and visible punishment for perpetrators send a signal that this crime will not pay.

At the same time, government must address the root drivers—poverty, youth unemployment, and the proliferation of small arms—that make young men available for hire to criminal gangs. The federal government cannot carry this alone. State governors, who control local security architecture and resources, must treat school security as a first-order priority, not a talking point. Local governments must be held accountable for what happens within their jurisdictions. And civil society, the media, and religious leaders must keep the pressure on until schools are safe.

We cannot allow this to become normal, or part of our educational or societal reality. Every time an abduction occurs and life moves on after a week of outrage, we normalise it. We tell the next set of kidnappers that the state is reactive, not proactive; that the cost of their crime is low and can therefore get away with it. Nigeria’s future depends on what happens in its classrooms today. If we allow those classrooms to remain vulnerable, we are not just failing the children of Borno and Oyo. We are failing the country. The time for outrage through statements is over. We must act, and decisively too.