By Kasham Keltuma
Nigeria’s security system has become a cycle of confusion and unanswered questions. Despite the strength and capability of our armed forces, the country continues to witness abductions, negotiated releases, and zero accountability. The problem is not the operatives on the ground, it is the lack of political will at the top.
Consider the 38 Kwara church worshippers kidnapped during a Sunday service streamed live. Days later, they were suddenly released — no confrontation, no arrest, and no clear explanation. The same pattern repeated itself with the 25 Kebbi schoolgirls who were freed under similar suspicious circumstances. The army issued statements that clarified nothing, reinforcing the perception that these “rescues” are not real security operations but arranged outcomes.
In normal rescue operations, there are risks, injuries, arrests, consequences, and evidence of engagement. In Nigeria, victims simply reappear while the criminals remain unidentified and untouched. It raises the question: who exactly is being protected?
The army admitted using “non-kinetic methods,” a phrase that commonly refers to negotiations, payments, and backchannel deals. If this is what happened, what makes it a rescue? Who was confronted? Who was arrested? Where are the perpetrators?
These cases suggest deliberate avoidance of confrontation. Why? Several possibilities are troubling:
To present an image that Muslim girls are also abducted, especially after President Donald Trump voiced concern for Nigerian Christians.
To show that President Tinubu’s government can secure fast releases without international pressure.
Or to continue a system where insecurity is used to drain public funds, with billions lost to negotiated settlements that benefit both criminals and their collaborators in government.
The video released by the bandits added more suspicion. Their questions:
“Did we molest you?”
“Did we feed you well?” —
seemed prepared in advance. The girls also mentioned aircraft hovering overhead, suggesting that authorities knew the location of the abductors but chose not to act.
Donald Trump recently described Nigeria as “a disgraced country” after listing it as a Country of Particular Concern. Incidents like these reinforce that perception.
The Minister of State for Defence, Bello Mattawale, only deepened concerns. His questioning mirrored the bandits almost word for word. Even more troubling was his statement in Hausa implying that the girls were “returned” to him safely, language that sounded too familiar, as though he knew the people involved. It sounded less like relief and more like acknowledgment of a completed arrangement. Like children returning from a relative’s house after the holidays: an dawo mun da ku lafiya kalau.
His visit to Kebbi felt unnecessary and symbolic, not strategic to give the illusion of effort. A single phone call from Abuja might have sufficed considering his past romance with them. As the Hausa saying goes; Ali knows Ali.
These events raise critical questions:
What was the real purpose behind these abductions and releases?
Why is there no confrontation, no arrest, and no accountability?
Who benefits from keeping insecurity alive?
Nigeria continues to witness abductions followed by smooth, unexplained releases and government statements that solve nothing. This repetitive pattern leaves the public frustrated, embarrassed, and confused. A functional state does not negotiate endlessly with criminals while pretending these negotiations are rescues.
Until there is transparency, genuine accountability, and leadership willing to confront the root of the problem, Nigerians will continue to face cycles of avoidable tragedies.












