By Ike Abonyi
“Any insurgency that lasts more than 24 hours has a government official involved.”
~ General Sani Abacha.
“Anyone who directly or indirectly sheds human blood to gain political power should not have a peaceful death, and their descendants will not find peace in life.” This was a prayer said at a political gathering, but the “Amen” that followed was not resounding. The pastor was shocked by the negative reaction he received, suggesting that many politicians are willing to take human lives in their pursuit of power.
This perhaps helps to explain why the current Nigerian President, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, reminded us in 2022 on his journey to Aso Rock that power is not served à la carte, and that those desiring it must be ready to seize it and face the consequences, even from God. Understanding this context may help you fathom why any government would knowingly and deliberately fuel crises that lead to bloodshed in its quest for power. It also provides insight into why blood is often shed during election cycles in Nigeria, where lives are tragically sacrificed as an offering for power grabs.
If you are a politician who does not subscribe to this harsh reality, you may find yourself mocked and regarded as a daydreamer—an idealist who wants an egg without an omelette. This introductory remark sets the stage for our discussion today.
Despite his embroilment in corruption as a military head of state, late General Sani Abacha’s role as a blunt combatant is indisputable. He was a formidable leader, respected by his peers, known for his tough demeanour as a disciplined soldier who spoke little but delivered decisive actions when he did. His courage was unquestionable, which is why he was often called upon to announce the overthrow of governments. The familiar phrase “I, Brigadier-General Sani Abacha…” was well-known during his time. He was a precision officer, not given to rhetoric, commanding significant authority. During his reign, only God could have stopped him; he had sent two powerful figures, Generals Olusegun Obasanjo and Shehu Musa Yar’Adua, to prison, resulting in Yar’Adua’s death while incarcerated. Others, both military and political, went into hiding as he held power.
That is why his views on the origin of insurgency remain significant. Although there is no clear record of where and when he made that famed statement, his daughter, Ms Gumsu Sani Abacha, reechoed it in a tweet on May 8, 2014: “If insurgency lasts more than 24 hours, the government has a hand in it.”
When he made that statement, many struggled to comprehend how a government could have a hand in an insurgency that was troubling it. It seemed inconceivable to those who doubted such a possibility. At the time, Nigeria had not yet experienced the scale of insurgency that began in 2009. The only instances were isolated jihadist uprisings like those led by Maitatsine, which the military quickly crushed because the government did not have any involvement in them.
To refresh our memories, in 1980, one Muhammadu Marwa, nicknamed Maitatsine, came from Cameroon and settled in Kano as an Islamic preacher. He developed a strong message in Hausa: “Wanda bata yarda ba Allah ta Tchine,” meaning “May Allah curse the one who disagrees with his version.” He had a long history as a dissident preacher, having been imprisoned and deported in 1962 but later returned. His followers were involved in clashes at mosques in Kano’s Sabongari in 1972, with an increasing number of clashes and arrests in 1979 and 1980.
His teachings were radical; he claimed to be a Prophet. In December 1980, his followers revolted in Kano, leading to widespread violence that could be likened to civil war, resulting in the deaths of around 4,000 people, including Maitatsine himself. Subsequent uprisings occurred in 1982 in Bulumkutu, killing over 3,000, and again in Rigasa village near Kaduna. By March 1984, another outbreak of violence in Yola led to between 500 and 1,000 deaths. In April 1985, yet another uprising in Gombe, Bauchi State, resulted in over a hundred deaths. His followers are often referred to as “Maitatsine,” and the movement is also known as Kalo Kato.
In summary, what I’ve done here as a preamble to our discussion is trace the historical roots of the fundamentalist Muslim uprising we are witnessing today in Nigeria. It also outlines other recent manifestations of militant Islam in northern Nigeria, which have evolved into insurgencies with varying names. In all these instances, national troops are mobilised to quell the violence, ostensibly because the government claims no involvement in these insurgencies.
The emergence of the Boko Haram sect in 2009 further corroborates General Abacha’s assertion, as it presents a mixture of politics and religion. It has not only continued to exist but has also grown as predicted by the dynamics of the political and religious climate in Nigeria.
Nigerians can easily differentiate between the colours and characteristics of insurgents: those without government support that get crushed and those that endure due to government backing. Another blunt and noteworthy statement came from the distinguished military General Theophilus Danjuma, which was met with scepticism and viewed by some as a careless remark made out of anger and frustration. However, given Danjuma’s impressive military credentials, his words carry weight. Speaking during the 2018 convocation ceremony at Taraba State University in Jalingo, the elder statesman and former Chief of Army Staff and Minister of Defence lamented that the Nigerian Army is no longer neutral in the fight against terrorism. He stated, “The Army collude, aid, and provide cover for terrorist activities,” and urged Nigerians to rise to protect their country, declaring that if we depend solely on the Nigerian Army for protection, “we will all die one by one.” This statement served as a profound vote of no confidence in an organisation he once commanded at various levels.
Given the turmoil in Nigeria over the past two decades, it would be imprudent for Nigerians to dismiss the views of such distinguished generals. The rumours that government officials and security chiefs are in collusion with those who kill and maim the people they were elected to protect are becoming increasingly apparent. This was highlighted by the recent kidnapping incidents in Kwara and Kebbi states. During a disruption of church services in Eruku by bandits, the attack was broadcast live for the world to see, leading to fatalities and the abduction of 38 worshippers. In another incident at Government Secondary School in Maga, Kebbi state, 25 schoolchildren were taken from their dormitory, and the Vice Principal was shot dead while trying to protect the children. The military checkpoint near the school disappeared a few hours before the incident.
When pressure mounted for the children’s release, the government sent ‘terrorist experts’ that included the Vice President, Kashim Shettima and the Minister of State for Defence, Bello Matawalle. It’s worth investigating their backgrounds: both the Vice President and former Borno state Governor Ali Modu Sheriff have been accused of being complicit in the rise of Boko Haram. Additionally, Zamfara state has been a hotspot for banditry and violence, and the former Governor of Zamfara, now Minister of State for Defence, has been alleged to have ties to criminality. The current Governor of Zamfara, Dauda Lawal, has repeatedly claimed that his predecessor, Matawalle, is a sponsor of bandits and is undermining efforts to resolve the insecurity crisis. Despite these serious allegations, neither the government nor security officials has sought accountability.
The failure of military, police, and DSS operatives to effectively manage the abduction cases in Kwara and Kebbi states underscores the issues within the security management of the country, where human life seems to carry little value in the pursuit of power. In ideal democracies around the world, those seeking power try to win voters over through their performance in office. In Nigeria, however, the focus is on appeasing the criminals involved in these devious acts.
Sheikh Ahmad Gumi, often regarded as the godfather of bandits, has warned the government that “attacking the bandits will be a mistake. Negotiate with them instead. Include them in the budget. Give them whatever they want.” From what we have witnessed—the way bandits kill, maim, and are treated with leniency rather than reprimand—coupled with how armed murderers sit face-to-face with security chiefs for negotiations and return to their hideouts untouched—it is clear that there are no consequences for their actions. With criminals who displace people from their ancestral homes being pampered rather than punished, it is evident that there is a lack of deterrence against crime.
In this context, one might as well be tempted to make a case for the formalisation of the body by asking the Corporate Affairs Commission (CAC) to validate these developments by issuing a certificate of incorporation to the bandits, with Sheikh Gumi, Matawalle, and other sympathisers as trustees, and the federal and certain state governments in the North as donors. Why not, when a CAC Certificate (Certificate of Incorporation or Registration) is an official legal document issued by the Corporate Affairs Commission (CAC) of Nigeria that formally recognises a business or company as a legal entity.
By this, it could even be measured as one of the federal government agencies with a mission statement reading thus: “To deliver political power in our control to loyalists and financiers .” God help us.
