State Police: Real Solution or Political Mirage?

                                                                                                                      Political Panorama Issue No 28

As terrorism and banditry escalate, Nigeria confronts a critical question: will state police fix the problem or deepen it?

Few national debates have received as much attention in recent discussions as the question: Is creating a State Police the true answer to Nigeria’s terrorism and banditry problems?

It is an emotionally charged conversation driven by public frustration, political promises, elite interests, and genuine yearning for safety. But beneath the noise lies a deeper structural reality. Nigeria’s insecurity did not begin because the police were centralised, and it will not automatically end because they are decentralised.

To understand what is truly at stake, we must peel back the layers of political rhetoric and examine the institutional, historical, and economic forces shaping this debate.

                                  
The Roots Of The Crisis: A Problem Older Than Today’s Politics

Terrorism, banditry, kidnapping-for-ransom, and rural violence did not emerge in Nigeria because the Nigeria Police Force was centralised. In fact, these crimes intensified decades after the modern police structure was already in place.

This suggests that insecurity in Nigeria is not solely a function of policing architecture. It is a product of:

1.     Weak local governance;

2.     Poverty and rural neglect;

3.     Illicit gold and mineral economies;

4.     A political economy of violence run by non-state actors;

5.     Impunity backed by elite complicity;

6.     And dangerously porous borders.

In short, the Nigerian state gradually lost control over vast rural zones, and criminals filled the resulting vacuum. No structure of police, whether federal or state, automatically solves this unless the underlying governance collapse is reversed.

Why The State Police Debate Has Returned Forcefully

Supporters of state police argue that it will bring law enforcement closer to communities, improve response time, and enhance local intelligence. There is truth in this. Community-linked policing often outperforms distant centralised commands.

But critics warn that governors could hijack these forces for political intimidation, election manipulation, and suppression of dissent. This fear is equally valid. Nigerian political history provides many examples of state-level abuses of force.

The truth sits somewhere in the middle. State Police can help but only within a framework of strict constitutional safeguards, independent oversight, and national standards. Otherwise, it may exchange one problem for another.

The U.S. Homeland Security Example: A Warning And A Lesson

Many proponents of state police cite foreign examples, but few look closely at the U.S. experience. America already had federal, state, and county police long before 9/11. Yet after the attacks, the country still created a new, centralised institution - the Department of Homeland Security (DHS). Why?

Not because America lacked police, but because it lacked coordination. Intelligence was scattered. Agencies were siloed. A systemic failure had occurred. DHS was not created to decentralise policing. It was created to centralise intelligence, improve coordination, and manage cross-cutting threats that no local police force could manage alone.

This is the opposite of Nigeria’s state police proposal.

The lesson here is clear. Security reforms must match the structure of the threat.

If the threat crosses states, borders, and regions, a purely decentralised police cannot solve it.

Is Nigeria’s Ministry Of Interior Functioning As Designed?

On paper, the Ministry of Interior is supposed to be the nerve centre of Nigeria’s internal security architecture. Its mandate covers the following critical domains.

1.     Immigration control

2.     Civil defence and protection of critical national assets

3.     Regulation and licensing of private security actors

4.     Coordination of certain internal security and public safety functions

In theory, these responsibilities position the Ministry as a powerful hub for crisis response, threat anticipation, and domestic stability. But in practice, the Ministry has not evolved into the strategic anchor Nigeria urgently needs.

Instead of driving internal security outcomes, the Ministry is often limited to policy pronouncements, ceremonial functions, and regulatory paperwork. It does not shape the intelligence picture, command operational responses, or integrate the fragmented forces that should answer to it. Coordination gaps persist between agencies. Responsibilities overlap without clear hierarchy. And in the vacuum, criminal networks expand more quickly than government institutions adapt.

This institutional weakness is one of the silent forces fueling the national clamour for state police. But the more critical question is rarely asked:

Has Nigeria fully optimized the institutions it already has before racing to create new ones?

If the Ministry of Interior was functioning as a modern internal security super-structure - proactive, intelligence-driven, and operationally capable, many of today’s arguments for state police would be less urgent.

A Missing Piece: Why Nigeria Needs a Counter-Violence and Security Bureau

To fix this gap, Nigeria requires a new, specialised capability within the Ministry modeled after the world’s most effective domestic security systems. This is where the idea of establishing a:

Counter-Violence and Security Bureau (CVSB) or Special Operations and Internal Defence Service (SOIDS) becomes not just desirable, but essential.

Such a bureau would serve as Nigeria’s domestic strategic security engine room - a hybrid of intelligence, operations, coordination, and early-warning functions.

Why the Bureau Is Necessary

Nigeria’s evolving security crisis is no longer a simple law-and-order problem. The country is confronted by hybrid threats - a dangerous blend of terrorism, banditry, political violence, organized crime, and illicit mining networks that often finance one another. These threats operate across state boundaries, share logistics channels, and exploit gaps between security agencies. Yet, despite their interconnectedness, no Nigerian institution currently integrates the full national threat picture. Each agency sees only a fragment of the problem, leaving the country without a unified view of its internal dangers.

The Nigeria Police Force, already overwhelmed with day-to-day emergencies, cannot simultaneously serve as both frontline responders and strategic planners. Their mandate forces them into a reactive posture - chasing criminals, responding to attacks, and maintaining public order, leaving little capacity for long-term analysis or inter-agency intelligence fusion. The military, for its part, is similarly overstretched and constitutionally oriented toward external defence, not continuous domestic threat forecasting.

Civil Defence, though mandated to protect critical national assets, cannot shoulder the burden either. The NSCDC remains underequipped, understaffed, and operationally limited, never designed to manage complex security operations across multiple regions or against heavily armed militant economies.

This is why many countries facing similar internal pressures such as India, Brazil, Indonesia, Mexico, France, have established specialised internal security bureaus. These institutions fuse intelligence, coordinate special operations, and provide rapid domestic response capabilities. They serve as central engines for national internal security management, something Nigeria still lacks.

A Nigerian equivalent would fill the critical gap between intelligence, operations, and policymaking. It would ensure that all internal security agencies - police, DSS, civil defence, immigration, customs, and even state governments feed into a single, coherent national system.

And importantly, if Nigeria eventually adopts state police, such a bureau becomes even more essential. Without a strong federal coordinating authority, state police could easily devolve into 36 isolated forces, each with its own intelligence silos and political pressures. A central bureau would prevent fragmentation by ensuring national oversight, intelligence integration, and uniform operational standards.

In short, establishing this bureau is not just an institutional upgrade, it is a strategic necessity. It would give Nigeria the unified internal security brain it has never had but desperately needs

Key functions of the proposed bureau

1.     National threat assessment and early-warning

2. Intelligence fusion from police, DSS, NSCDC, immigration, customs, and state governments

3.     Joint task-force coordination

4.     Counter-terrorism and anti-banditry planning

5.     Control of special federal intervention units

6.     Oversight of state police if established

7. Mapping and disrupting illicit financing (illegal mining, arms networks, ransom economies)

8.     Strategic policy support to the Minister of Interior

Bottom Line

Before Nigeria multiplies policing structures, it must strengthen the strategic backbone of internal security. A dedicated Counter-Violence and Security Bureau or Special Operations and Internal Defence Service within the Ministry of Interior would finally give Nigeria what it currently lacks which is - A central brain for domestic security coordinated, analytical, operational, and accountable.

This is the institutional reform that makes any future model - federal police, reformed police, or state police actually functional

The Appointment Of A Former Military Chief As Defence Minister: Symbolism Vs. Reality

President Tinubu’s appointment of a former Chief of Defence Staff as Minister of Defence has generated widespread discussion. To many, the decision projects seriousness, continuity, and a willingness to place experienced hands at the helm of national security. It signals that the government wants someone familiar with the terrain, someone who has commanded troops and understands the operational realities on the ground.

But beyond the symbolism, Nigerians must confront a harder, more consequential question: Did insecurity decline under his previous tenure as military chief? In several regions, particularly the North-West, North-East, and North-Central, the answer is difficult to affirm. In many cases, attacks persisted, kidnapping escalated, and banditry expanded its footprint during that period of leadership.

If the results from his military stewardship were mixed or inconclusive, then the next question becomes unavoidable: What were the institutional constraints that hindered performance then, and have those constraints magically disappeared simply because he now occupies a ministerial office?

The reality is sobering. No individual, no matter how competent, decorated, or respected, can singlehandedly overcome the entrenched structural barriers that have corroded Nigeria’s defence and internal security architecture for years. The most significant obstacles to progress remain deeply systemic. These include:

1.  Corruption in defence procurement, which diverts resources from frontline troops into private pockets;

2. Chronic logistical failures, leaving soldiers underequipped, underfunded, or unsupported during critical operations;

3.   Weak border management, allowing arms, fighters, and illicit goods to flow freely across porous frontiers;

4.   Inter-agency rivalry, where security agencies compete instead of coordinating;

5.  Political interference, which distorts operational decisions and shields powerful sponsors of insecurity;

6.   Complicit local actors, whose silence or direct involvement sustains the networks feeding insurgency and banditry.

In such an environment, the elevation of a single individual, regardless of their past rank, cannot, by itself, transform outcomes. Nigeria has seen this pattern repeatedly. High-profile appointments are marketed as turning points, only for insecurity to evolve, mutate, and continue unabated.

The lesson is clear. Nigerians must resist the notion that personalities can cure systemic decay. Real progress will only come from rebuilding institutions, not recycling figureheads within the same broken framework. Until the root causes are confronted - corruption, weak oversight, fragmented intelligence, and political shielding of criminal networks - no appointment, however impressive, can deliver the sweeping change the country desperately needs

Negotiation with Bandits: Pragmatism or Peril?

A major factor further complicating Nigeria’s security landscape is the federal government’s recurring practice of negotiating with terrorists and bandits while publicly presenting the outcomes as dramatic “rescues.” These negotiations are almost always shrouded in secrecy, yet they profoundly shape the behaviour of armed groups and the expectations of citizens.

When governments quietly pay ransoms, whether directly or through intermediaries, armed groups take note. Each undisclosed payment becomes a signal that kidnapping is not only viable but lucrative. And in the absence of transparency, the cycle deepens. If authorities deny these negotiations, citizens remain unaware of the contradictions in policy, believing the state is refusing to negotiate even when actions behind the scenes suggest otherwise. This disconnect erodes trust and creates confusion about the government’s true strategy.

The situation becomes even more troubling when these operations are packaged as political achievements. When negotiated releases are framed as fearless “rescues,” accountability dissolves. The public is offered narratives designed for political credit rather than honest assessments of what transpired. Meanwhile, bandits and insurgents learn a simple lesson that abduction pays, and the state will often meet them at the bargaining table quietly, discreetly, and sometimes repeatedly.

This dynamic fosters a dangerous culture where criminal groups refine their tactics, expanding their networks and increasing the scale of their operations. They understand the psychology of the government, and they exploit it. The public, kept in the dark and deprived of accurate information, cannot effectively question, pressure, or reform these policies.

In the end, what emerges is a system that inadvertently rewards violence, discourages accountability, and weakens the legitimacy of the state. Until Nigeria confronts the opaque nature of these negotiations and their long-term consequences, any security reform, including the creation of state police, will exist in a landscape where kidnapping remains a profitable economic strategy rather than a crime the state is determined to eliminate

The Northern Governors and the Mining Suspension: A Revelation

The recent call by Northern governors for a six-month suspension of mining across their states is more than a policy proposal. It is a revelation. By openly linking terrorism to illegal mining and further implying that this criminal economy is supported by influential elites, the governors have unintentionally confirmed what many security analysts have warned for years. "Nigeria’s insecurity is not driven by ideology alone; it is powered by economics".

This admission reshapes the national understanding of terrorism and banditry. It exposes the uncomfortable truth that armed groups do not survive merely because they wield weapons; they survive because they are funded. Their financiers are not phantoms hiding in the forests; they are individuals embedded in Nigeria’s political and economic systems. Many of them operate in boardrooms, government offices, and business networks. Some wear suits, not camouflage.

Seen through this lens, the governors’ proposal becomes both illuminating and insufficient. Suspending mining may disrupt small-scale operations, but it does not dismantle the financial pipes feeding the violence. Without deeper structural actions, the suspension risks becoming security theatre, that is, a temporary gesture that leaves the underlying power networks untouched.

For any mining suspension to carry real weight, it must be paired with a forensic audit of mining licences to expose shell companies, fraudulent allocations, and politically-connected fronts. It must be followed by credible investigations into elite sponsors who profit from illegal extraction and covertly support armed groups protecting their interests. Financial tracing must target the complex web of illicit mineral sales, cash movements, and foreign transactions powering the violence. And most importantly, complicit officials must be publicly prosecuted, not protected by silence or recycled into new positions.

Without these decisive steps, the mining suspension will be little more than a pause button - one that criminal financiers can easily wait out until public outrage cools. What the governors have revealed is critical. What Nigeria chooses to do with this revelation will determine whether the country finally disrupts the economic engine of terrorism or continues treating insecurity as a purely military problem

So, Is State Police the Solution? The Hard Truth

After sifting through the full spectrum of evidence ranging from institutional failures, elite interference, economic drivers of violence, to governance gaps, one reality stands out clearly - State Police is not a magic bullet.

It will not, on its own, extinguish terrorism, banditry, kidnapping, or rural instability. Yet, dismissing it outright would also be simplistic.

Properly designed, properly protected, and properly integrated into the broader national security framework, state police can become part of a workable solution. But this possibility hinges on whether Nigeria is willing to implement the reforms that make decentralised policing viable rather than dangerous.

For state police to succeed, certain structural and legal safeguards are non-negotiable.

First, constitutional protections must anchor the entire system. A state police architecture without clearly defined powers, limits on gubernatorial influence, and explicit rules governing cross-state operations will simply reproduce Nigeria’s worst political tendencies at a subnational level. A national coordinating authority must also exist to prevent isolated forces from drifting into political, ethnic, or regional silos.

Second, independent oversight is essential. Without a credible complaints commission and citizens’ review boards, new police formations will be vulnerable to capture by state-level political actors who may weaponise them against opponents, journalists, activists, or rival factions. Oversight is the firewall between legitimate security and political abuse.

Third, Nigeria must enforce uniform national standards across training, recruitment, vetting, and investigative procedures. Decentralisation should not mean lowering the bar. A fragmented security landscape without common professional standards risks producing 36 different forces operating with uneven discipline, accountability, and legitimacy.

Fourth, the entire system must be backed by sustainable and legally protected funding. Without this, state police will drift quickly into the familiar patterns of bribery, extortion, and operational paralysis that plague underfunded institutions. Financial instability will not only compromise professionalism rather, it will make state police beholden to political financiers.

Fifth, anti-capture laws must be entrenched. These laws must criminalise the use of state police for election manipulation, intimidation of dissenters, or settling intra-party disputes. Without such protections, decentralised policing could accelerate political thuggery rather than curbing insecurity.

Sixth, Nigeria must build an integrated national intelligence architecture. Terrorism, banditry, arms trafficking, and kidnapping-for-ransom do not respect state boundaries. No matter how many state police forces exist, they will fail without real-time intelligence sharing and coordinated federal-state-military operations.

Finally and perhaps most critically, Nigeria must address the political economy of insecurity by reforming how natural resources are governed. As long as illegal mining, artisanal extraction, and illicit financial networks continue to bankroll armed groups, no police structure can defeat a well-funded criminal enterprise. Cracking down on the financiers is as important as confronting the gunmen in the bush.

In the end, the question is not simply whether Nigeria should adopt state police, but whether the country is prepared to undertake the deeper institutional reforms that make state police effective rather than dangerous. Without these foundational elements, state police may merely decentralise failure. But with them, Nigeria can begin to rebuild the security architecture needed to reclaim its communities and restore public confidence

The Public Must Ask Better Questions Now

At this critical moment in Nigeria’s security evolution, the national conversation must rise above the surface-level debate of whether state police should exist. The real and urgent question is far more complex. If Nigeria chooses to create state police, what structural reforms must accompany it to ensure it reduces insecurity rather than amplifies political abuse? This is the question that should now occupy the country’s collective consciousness.

Nigeria stands at a crossroads, not because terrorism, banditry, or violent crime are new, but because the tools the country has relied on for decades have become exhausted, inconsistent, or compromised. Trust in traditional institutions is eroding. Citizens are frustrated. Communities feel abandoned. And the instinctive response is to demand new structures. But without deeper reforms, new structures will simply inherit old weaknesses.

State police can succeed; many federal systems have made it work. But it cannot thrive in an environment where elite interests routinely hijack security institutions, where illicit mining and shadow economies continue to bankroll violence, and where ministries charged with internal security struggle to meet their mandates. Nor can it coexist with a system in which negotiations with terrorists are quietly conducted while the public is told that victims were “rescued.” Add to this a political culture in which key security appointments sometimes function more as symbolism than strategy, and it becomes clear why structural reform, not mere institutional expansion, is imperative.

Nigeria must resist the temptation of cosmetic solutions. The answers the nation seeks will not emerge from simply multiplying police formations, but from confronting the entrenched governance failures that weaken every security agency, old or new. Only when these foundational issues are addressed will any policing reform, state police included, have a real chance of success.

The Final Word

Creating state police without constitutional guardrails, transparency, community oversight, and anti-corruption mechanisms will only produce 36 new power blocs, not a safer country.

But creating state police within a framework of strong institutions, integrated intelligence, accountable leadership, and disruption of illicit financing networks could help Nigeria reclaim its lost territories, protect its people, and restore national confidence.

The choice before Nigeria is not merely administrative. It is existential.

Security is not about structure. It is about political will, institutional integrity, and economic honesty. Until these foundations are rebuilt, no police, federal, or state can save us.

Ola Olateju is a political analyst, columnist, and host of Political Panorama, a platform that dissects power, policy, and political behaviour across Africa and beyond. His works focus on governance, leadership ethics, and the moral undercurrents of democracy.

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