There is a distressing lack of coherence among Nigeria’s top security chiefs. At a time when clarity, resolve, and unity of purpose are most needed, those charged with safeguarding the country are singing in discordant tunes. This undermines the anti-terror war strategy, dampens troops’ morale and confuses a tense populace.
The Minister of Defence, Christopher Musa, reflected the urgency and severity of the threat posed by insurgents and bandits when he reportedly ordered troops to shoot terrorists on sight without waiting for further directives.
Yet, this clear and aggressive posture is sharply contradicted by the Chief of Defence Staff, Olufemi Oluyede, and the National Security Adviser, Nuhu Ribadu.
While Oluyede likened terrorists to the biblical prodigal son, Ribadu described them as “our brothers!” This is nonsensical.
As security chiefs, their job is not to preach. They shouldn’t invoke religious doctrines wrongly. Brothers do not kill their kin.
Such mixed messaging is dangerous. It reflects deeper confusion about the nature of the enemy and the objectives of the war.
Earlier, in the North-East theatre of operations, a military commander suggested that so-called repentant terrorists could be rehabilitated, reintegrated into society, and even aspire to the highest offices in the land.
Such remarks, made without due sensitivity to victims, trivialise the scale of atrocities committed by these marauding Salafist jihadists. Repentance is not on their agenda.
On Easter Sunday, terrorists slaughtered seven worshippers in an attack on three churches in Kaduna State. About 35 others were reportedly abducted.
A week earlier, on Palm Sunday night, 13 wedding guests were massacred in Kahir village, also in Kaduna. Many more were wounded and abducted in an assault that lasted an hour, unchallenged by security personnel. The terrorists looted and burned homes and disappeared.
In the Angwan Rukuba area of Jos, also on that Palm Sunday night, about 30 residents were murdered in cold blood. The University of Jos said it lost two students.
Viral footage of a mother clutching her grown, dead son will probably haunt Nigerians for a long while. Further attacks have been reported on the plateau.
Since January 2025, over 3,000 people have been reportedly killed by terrorists, while over 5,000 have been kidnapped.
These are alarming, yet conservative figures, as many attacks go unreported. Millions shelter in internally displaced persons camps across the country.
Terror stalks the land, while security chiefs seem to be working at cross-purposes.
The implications of their discordant messages are dire. They signal to troops on the frontlines that the leadership may be uncertain—or worse, divided—about how to prosecute the war.
Soldiers risking their lives deserve clarity, not contradiction. Mixed messaging saps morale, breeds hesitation, and ultimately compromises operational effectiveness.
International partners, too, are watching. Allies who might otherwise provide intelligence, logistics, and training support could interpret these inconsistencies as a lack of political will. Why commit resources to a fight whose leaders appear unsure of their own plan?
Equally troubling is the moral dimension. The biblical prodigal son squandered his inheritance but harmed no one.
Nigeria’s terrorists, by contrast, are responsible for mass killings, abductions, rape, and the destruction of entire communities. To liken such actors to errant sons—or to call them “brothers”—betrays the memory of their victims. It is outright ridiculous.
Elsewhere, the commander-in-chief would relieve these security chiefs of their duties over such discordant tunes.
One of the casualties of the anti-terrorism war in Nigeria is Musa Uba, a brigadier-general, ambushed and slaughtered by ISWAP in November 2025 in Borno. He died because no one came to his rescue. An AFP report on Thursday stated that Boko Haram terrorists slaughtered some soldiers, including a brigadier general.
By contrast, the United States reportedly committed up to $310 million in addition to special forces and over 150 aircraft deployed to rescue its F-15E fighter jet crew downed in Iran.
The war against terror in Nigeria requires resolve and cohesion. Instead, across the North-West, negotiation and “peace deals” seem to be the main response.
Several state governments enter into agreements with bandit leaders, offering amnesty, financial incentives, and rehabilitation programmes. Some even bought vehicles for terrorists. But these deals are routinely and violently violated. Thousands continue to be killed, entire villages are razed again and again, and tens of thousands continue to flood IDP camps despite the deals.
Why? The answer may lie in the absence of a unified strategy among Nigeria’s security leadership.
Leaders of violent groups who orchestrate mass atrocities must be wiped out. Rehabilitation efforts, where appropriate, should be limited to low-level fighters who demonstrate genuine deradicalisation.
Globally, countries that have successfully confronted insurgencies—such as Sri Lanka in its fight against the Tamil Tigers, Algeria during its civil war, and Colombia against FARC—did so with a combination of military resolve, political unity, and clear messaging. There was no ambiguity about the state’s position.
Nigeria, by contrast, appears equivocal at a time when decisiveness is most needed. On the recent Global Terrorism Index, Nigeria is the fourth most terrorised country in the world.
Discordant tunes among security chiefs are strategic liabilities. They embolden adversaries, confuse allies, and demoralise troops. Nigeria cannot afford such dissonance.
