A nation in fear: Nigeria’s growing insecurity crisis

By Happiness Stephen

The issue of insecurity has long plagued Nigeria’s history, drawing concern from great thinkers, writers, and musicians. Visionaries like Chinua Achebe once warned that things have fallen apart and are no longer at ease, capturing the early cracks in Nigeria’s moral and political foundation. Fela Kuti, with his fearless music, laid bare the injustice, corruption, and violence of his time. Yet, never has the crisis been this widespread and deeply entrenched. According to the 2025 Global Peace Index (GPI), Nigeria ranks 148 out of 168 countries, making it one of the least peaceful nations in the world.

And this is no exaggeration, the evidence is overwhelming. A most striking and recent example is the tragic case of Somtochukwu “Sommie” Maduagwu, an Arise TV anchor, who was attacked on September 29, 2025, in her highbrow Abuja residence. In a desperate attempt to escape the armed robbers, she leapt from a storey building.

Though she survived the fall, she later died at the hospital, not necessarily from her injuries alone, but due to the sluggish and bureaucratic hospital processes that failed to prioritize her urgent care. Her death struck a national nerve, not just because of the brutality, but because Sommie was a well-known media personality, a face people recognized.

This represents one out of thousands of similar cases across the country, many of which go unreported, unnoticed, and unresolved. The tragic irony lies in her last tweet: “I pray from the depth of my heart that Nigeria never happens to me or anyone I care about.” Sadly, Nigeria did.

Now, don’t even get me started on the high rates of femicide happening in Nigeria. According to a female rights advocacy organization, DOHS Cares Foundation, over 88 femicide cases were recorded between January and June 2025. And these are just the “recorded” ones.

In a country without a centralized database or reliable records, especially in rural communities, the real number is likely far higher.  These women had their lives brutally cut short, often by people they knew: lovers, acquaintances, relatives, or friends. In the few cases that gained media attention, the public response was often deeply disturbing.

Rather than demanding justice, many Nigerians resorted to blaming the victims, calling them “prostitutes” or “gold diggers” simply because they were found dead in hotels or at the homes of their killers. This mindset not only deflects from the horror of the crime but subtly condones it. As a result, perpetrators are frequently overlooked, unpunished, and allowed to walk free. Justice is delayed, if not denied entirely. In the end, what we see is a society where the value of women’s lives is diminished, and their safety treated as optional.

Yet, even women who were in their homes, a space that should be safe, have not been spared. These were not cases of women in hotels or in so-called “compromising” situations. They weren’t wearing provocative clothing or breaking any social norms. Still, they were raped and killed.

One such case is that of a young woman in Asaba, Delta State, who was brutally raped and murdered inside her own home in broad daylight. Her body was only discovered days later. Another harrowing example is the 2020 case of 22-year-old university student Uwavera Omozuwa, who was attacked, raped, and murdered while studying alone in a church in Benin City, a place meant to offer sanctuary and peace.

These few instances, among countless others, reveal a grim reality: that in Nigeria, the life of the girl child is frighteningly fragile. Her safety is uncertain whether in public, private, or even sacred spaces. The violence is indiscriminate. The justice system is weak. And the message it sends to the rest of the female population is clear—that they, too, could be next. What’s left behind is a demographic living with chronic insecurity, deep fear, and unhealed trauma.

Another rampant case of insecurity in Nigeria is the growing wave of kidnappings, often carried out by Fulani herdsmen in the North and unknown gunmen in the East. These abductions have created widespread fear and unrest, disrupting daily life and instilling a sense of helplessness among citizens. Victims are often seized from highways, homes, schools, or farms, and families are forced to pay exorbitant ransoms just to see their loved ones again. This is happening in a country where the majority are already struggling to survive in an economy plagued by inflation, unemployment, and poverty.

The psychological and financial toll of these kidnappings is enormous, yet what’s most troubling is the glaring absence of justice. Time and again, these offenders operate with near-complete impunity. Arrests are rare, convictions even rarer. The result? A system that silently enables terror, where citizens are left to fend for themselves, and perpetrators roam freely, emboldened by a weak and reactive security structure.

There is also the long-standing Boko Haram insurgency, now split into Boko Haram and ISWAP (Islamic State West African Province), which has terrorised Nigeria since 2011 through attacks, kidnappings, and ambushes targeting both civilians and the military. In March 2025, a fresh resurgence in the North led to more killings and destruction. Despite over a decade of conflict, the federal government has yet to effectively end the violence or free citizens from the fear and trauma these groups continue to inflict.

Some of the effects of these activities include the deep fear and trauma that many Nigerians now live with daily, knowing their lives are neither safe nor valued. This constant fear  that “Nigeria can happen to anyone”  has fostered a mindset of disconnection from the country, weakening any sense of unity or national loyalty.

It also fuels the mass migration trend known as “Japa,” where citizens seek refuge in countries where they believe life is safer and more dignified. Ironically, even those in power send their children abroad, revealing a collective lack of trust in the very system they govern.

Because one reaction often triggers a ripple effect, the “Japa” syndrome has led to a significant brain drain in Nigeria. Many of the country’s brightest minds across various professions are leaving to build careers and contribute to development abroad. As a result, those left behind are often overstretched and understaffed, leading to burnout and reduced efficiency.

This is especially evident in the healthcare sector, where a limited number of qualified personnel are forced to attend to an overwhelming number of patients. The consequences are grave; delayed care, preventable errors, and in many cases, avoidable deaths due to lack of timely attention or exhaustion-induced mistakes.

Insecurity has also taken a serious toll on Nigeria’s economic and agricultural sectors. Foreign investors are pulling out for fear of their safety, stalling economic growth. In rural areas, particularly in the North, farmers are attacked and displaced, while farmlands are destroyed. This has led to widespread food shortages and skyrocketing prices across the country.

The impact extends to transportation and tourism. Transport companies that dare to ply high-risk routes increase fares to offset security risks, which in turn raises the cost of goods moved across regions.

Globally, these security issues have tainted Nigeria’s image. Countries now view Nigerian travelers through a lens of caution, resulting in visa restrictions and travel bans. The ripple effect is not just a dent in global perception, but a growing stigma affecting not only Nigerians, but Africans by extension.

For Nigeria to become safer, protect its citizens, and rebuild its damaged global image, several urgent steps must be taken to curb insecurity. First, the country needs committed, transparent governance that actively fights corruption and ensures justice. There must be swift prosecution of terrorism, kidnapping, and other violent crimes with no exceptions. The rule of law should apply to all, including powerful individuals and armed groups. Second, a complete reform of the security sector is necessary. This includes proper training, modern equipment, better welfare for personnel, and accountability in operations.

Third, investment in vocational training and empowerment programs is crucial. When young people have access to skills, jobs, and a sense of purpose, the appeal of crime drastically reduces.

Additionally, securing Nigeria’s borders to stop the influx of illegal arms and unauthorized immigrants will reduce external threats. Finally, embracing technology to create a reliable national database and smart systems for tracking crimes and deploying resources will strengthen internal security structures and improve overall response.

To sum it all up, Nigeria has become one of the most unsafe places to live, as the average citizen now lives in constant fear for their life and property. Many are willing to abandon careers and dreams just to find safety elsewhere. This highlights the urgent need for a government that truly values and protects its people.

At the same time, citizens must come together to demand better and contribute to building the kind of country we all deserve instead of allowing insecurity and neglect to define our reality, while those in power carve out comfort for themselves and their families. Real change requires both leadership accountability and collective responsibility.

Happiness Stephen is a student from the University Of Lagos