Opinion
Buhari, Boko Haram And The Bismarck (11)
Not so in Nigeria. Although the Boko Haram terrorists were correctly identified as mortal threat to the country, the Presidency, then under Dr. Goodluck Jonathan, treated the Boko Haram threat with appalling levity. Well meaning advice and warnings to deal firmly with the terrorists fell on deaf ears. So, Boko Haram festered. “1 treated them with kid gloves”, President Jonathan was to admit just before the 2015 presidential election.
And so, while the government fiddled, its Bismarck, the terrorists ran wild. They swarmed the north-east, shooting, bombing, razing whole villages at will. They slit throats on video, slaughtered, maimed and raped. As if these were not fiendish enough, horrified and scandalized citizens watched as the rag-tag terrorists made a huge joke of the military. Its supposedly well-armed, well-trained internationally recognized fighting men were ignominiously sent scurrying to safer havens in neighboring countries with the terrorists hot on their heels!.
Just in case anyone doubted their reach and capability, the scoundrels bombed the Police Force Headquarters and even the United Nations’ building, all in far away Abuja, the country’s capital. And to rub it in, they brazenly kidnapped over 250 girls from a girls secondary school in Chibok right under the nose of security agents. It just couldn’t get worse!
This was the dismal situation when Major Gen. Muhammadu Buhari (rtd) took over in May, 2015 as President. Like the British Admiralty, President Buhari also correctly identified Boko Haram as a national threat. He too was strong willed, decisive and prompt in his redressive actions.
First, like Britain, he forged a strong military alliance with neighbouring countries like Niger, Chad, Cameroun, even Benin Republic. Thus emerged the multi-national joint military task force against Boko Haram. To Nigeria was conceded the task force command. And for that top job, President Buhari chose Tukur Yusuf Buratai, a not-so-much known Major General at the Defence Headquarters. That done, he released $100 million to the task force as part of Nigeria’s contribution.
Secondly, in August, 2015, he re-organized the military’s top hierarchy. New Service Chiefs were brought on board. Gen. Abayomi Olanisakin became Chief of Defence Staff (CDS); Vice Admiral Ibok-Ete Ekwe Ibas for the Navy and Air Marshal Saddique Abubakar for the Air Force. The Army? Here, President Buhari had a second thought. He recalled Major General Buratai from international duties and handed him the captainship band of the army.
The appointment of Marshal Abubakar and Gen. Buratai, though criticized by a legion of small minds, was to prove a masterstroke. Both men are indigenes of north-east. They were born and grew up there. They know the terrain like the back of their hands. The people would find it easier to relate with them. Besides, they have personal grudges against the insurgents. While Buratai had his village repeatedly attacked and his house razed, Abubakar was said to have lost some relations to the scoundrels of Sambisa.
With the Service Chiefs on their driving seats, President Buhari took the third step. He directed the relocation of the military’s operations command headquarters to Maiduguri, right in the theatre of war. With this, Buratai and Abubakar had thier jobs pretty cut out.
Next, the President addressed the huge morale deficit among the military’s fighting men. You can’t successfully prosecute a war with thoroughly dispirited and poorly armed fighters. So, top priority was given to soldiers’ welfare and arsenal. How Buratai, within so short a time, turned around this seemingly insoluble moral deficit should be a topic for another day.
Suffice to say that in just two months, the troops’ morale soared right above the mountains and forests of the north-east. Well motivated, well armed and with their COAS right with them day-in, night-out, sometimes right there in the trench, the troops were roaring to go. And what with Abubakar’s air-warriors waiting on their wings, all primed up and waiting!
More meetings with the Service Chiefs followed. Satisfied with preparations and positive progress made, President Buhari in October, 2015, like The Admiralty’s First Sea Lord, ordered Buratai and Abubakar: “Go! Sink the Sambisa Bismarcks! I don’t care what it takes, and how you do it. Just flush those demons out of Sambisa latest December!”
Buratai told the troops he would lead them with the operational battle cry: “Lafia Dole!” (Peace by force!) and they went. Full blast too! It wasn’t long before the Sambisa Bismarcks found out they were up against Buratai’s new-look army. The relentless pounding of their camps and columns by Sadiqq Abubakar’s Alpha jets and Puma helicopters did not help their morale either. By December, 2015, all the local government areas occupied by the terrorists had been liberated. Roads linking the country with its neighbours were cleared and reopened to traffic. In the process, thousands of Boko Haram hostage victims were set free. It was the turn of the terrorists to flee in disarray.
Thousands of them were killed or captured. Many more surrendered; large caches of arms were either destroyed or captured. Such were the outstanding successes of the Sarnbisa campaign that an elated President Buhari told an equally grateful country that the Boko Haram insurgents’ war capability had been severely degraded. They are no longer militarily strong enough to challenge the control of any portion of Nigeria’s territory.
Certainly, the sinking of The Bismarck by the British Navy did not automatically end the naval war between Britain and Germany. Nor did it end the world war. But it gave Britain and allies the upper hand in the control of sea traffic including the strategic convoy corridors. This allowed for the free flow of weapons and raw materials, all of which were very critical to the eventual outcome of the war.
In the same way, the degrading of the Boko Haram by December, 2015 did not mean the end of the war. But it left them considerably weaker. The military kept up the pressure and only last December, exactly twelve months after, the army announced the capture of Camp Zero, the main operational headquarters of the terrorists. There’s been euphoria of victory since the announcement. Congratulatory messages have since been pouring in. Govemments, organizations and individuals, home and abroad, have been congratulating the President, the military especially the army, the air force and their commanders, Lt. Gen Buratai and Air Marshal Abubakar.
As it stands, Gen Buratai and Marshal Abubakar have successfully sunk the Bismarcks of Sambisa Forest. Notwithstanding the on-going mop up operations, “Lafia” (peace) “Dole” (by force) has largely returned to the north-east. The mop up will end with the total lock down of the forest to forestall possible regrouping of the defeated fleeing terrorists.
The battle for the north-east and Sambisa has been won. But not the war which has only entered anew, more dangerous stage. The insurgents have been defeated militarily, but not eliminated. As remnants of them flee, they carry with them all the bittemess and hate grudges of the vanquished. They cannot be trusted to resist the temptation to strike back individually or in splinter groups of twos or threes. In which case, centres of high population density can reasonably be expected to be the next theaters of the war.
The Sambisa Bismarcks have actually sailed into the cities bidding their time. For the Police, Department of State Service, the civil defence organization, the Immigration Service, Customs Service and the public at large therefore, the time to start ferreting them out and sink them is now!
Concluded.
Uhor, Vice President-General, Rivers State Council for Islamic Affairs, wrote from Port Harcourt.
Nasir Awhelebe Uhor
The events that unfolded in Abuja on Tuesday November 11, 2025 between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Chief Nyesom Wike and a detachment of soldiers guarding a disputed property, led by Adams Yerima, a commissioned Naval Officer, may go down as one of the defining images of Nigeria’s democratic contradictions. It was not merely a quarrel over land. It was a confrontation between civil authority and the military legacy that still hovers over our national life.
Nyesom Wike, fiery and fearless as always, was seen on video exchanging words with a uniformed officer who refused to grant him passage to inspect a parcel of land alleged to have been illegally acquired. The minister’s voice rose, his temper flared, and the soldier, too, stood his ground, insisting on his own authority. Around them, aides, security men, and bystanders watched, stunned, as two embodiments of the Nigerian state clashed in the open.
The images spread fast, igniting debates across drawing rooms, beer parlours, and social media platforms. Some hailed Wike for standing up to military arrogance; others scolded him for perceived disrespect to the armed forces. Yet beneath the noise lies a deeper question about what sort of society we are building and whether power in Nigeria truly understands the limits of its own reach.
It is tragic that, more than two decades into civil rule, the relationship between the civilian arm of government and the military remains fragile and poorly understood. The presence of soldiers in a land dispute between private individuals and the city administration is, by all civic standards, an aberration. It recalls a dark era when might was right, and uniforms conferred immunity against accountability.
Wike’s anger, even if fiery, was rooted in a legitimate concern: that no individual, however connected or retired, should deploy the military to protect personal interests. That sentiment echoes the fundamental democratic creed that the law is supreme, not personalities. If his passion overshot decorum, it was perhaps a reflection of a nation weary of impunity.
On the other hand, the soldier in question is a symbol of another truth: that discipline, respect for order, and duty to hierarchy are ingrained in our armed forces. He may have been caught between conflicting instructions one from his superiors, another from a civilian minister exercising his lawful authority. The confusion points not to personal failure but to institutional dysfunction.
It is, therefore, simplistic to turn the incident into a morality play of good versus evil.
*********”**** What happened was an institutional embarrassment. Both men represented facets of the same failing system a polity still learning how to reconcile authority with civility, law with loyalty, and service with restraint.
In fairness, Wike has shown himself as a man of uncommon courage. Whether in Rivers State or at the FCTA, he does not shy away from confrontation. Yet courage without composure often feeds misunderstanding. A public officer must always be the cooler head, even when provoked, because the power of example outweighs the satisfaction of winning an argument.
Conversely, soldiers, too, must be reminded that their uniforms do not place them above civilian oversight. The military exists to defend the nation, not to enforce property claims or intimidate lawful authorities. Their participation in purely civil matters corrodes the image of the institution and erodes public trust.
One cannot overlook the irony: in a country where kidnappers roam highways and bandits sack villages, armed men are posted to guard contested land in the capital. It reflects misplaced priorities and distorted values. The Nigerian soldier, trained to defend sovereignty, should not be drawn into private or bureaucratic tussles.
Sycophancy remains the greatest ailment of our political culture. Many of those who now cheer one side or the other do so not out of conviction but out of convenience. Tomorrow they will switch allegiance. True patriotism lies not in defending personalities but in defending principles. A people enslaved by flattery cannot nurture a culture of justice.
The Nigerian elite must learn to submit to the same laws that govern the poor. When big men fence off public land and use connections to shield their interests, they mock the very constitution they swore to uphold. The FCT, as the mirror of national order, must not become a jungle where only the powerful can build.
The lesson for Wike himself is also clear: power is best exercised with calmness. The weight of his office demands more than bravery; it demands statesmanship. To lead is not merely to command, but to persuade — even those who resist your authority.
Equally, the lesson for the armed forces is that professionalism shines brightest in restraint. Obedience to illegal orders is not loyalty; it is complicity. The soldier who stands on the side of justice protects both his honour and the dignity of his uniform.
The Presidency, too, must see this episode as a wake-up call to clarify institutional boundaries. If soldiers can be drawn into civil enforcement without authorization, then our democracy remains at risk of subtle militarization. The constitution must speak louder than confusion.
The Nigerian public deserves better than spectacles of ego. We crave leaders who rise above emotion and officers who respect civilian supremacy. Our children must not inherit a nation where authority means shouting matches and intimidation in public glare.
Every democracy matures through such tests. What matters is whether we learn the right lessons. The British once had generals who defied parliament; the Americans once fought over states’ rights; Nigeria, too, must pass through her own growing pains but with humility, not hubris.
If the confrontation has stirred discomfort, then perhaps it has done the nation some good. It forces a conversation long overdue: Who truly owns the state — the citizen or the powerful? Can we build a Nigeria where institutions, not individuals, define our destiny?
As the dust settles, both the FCTA and the military hierarchy must conduct impartial investigations. The truth must be established — not to shame anyone, but to restore order. Where laws were broken, consequences must follow. Where misunderstandings occurred, apologies must be offered.
Let the rule of law triumph over the rule of impulse. Let civility triumph over confrontation. Let governance return to the path of dialogue and procedure.
Nigeria cannot continue to oscillate between civilian bravado and military arrogance. Both impulses spring from the same insecurity — the fear of losing control. True leadership lies in the ability to trust institutions to do their work without coercion.
Those who witnessed the clash saw a drama of two gladiators. One in starched khaki, one in well-cut suit. Both proud, both unyielding. But a nation cannot be built on stubbornness; it must be built on understanding. Power, when it meets power, should produce order, not chaos.
We must resist the temptation to glorify temper. Governance is not warfare; it is stewardship. The citizen watches, the world observes, and history records. How we handle moments like this will define our collective maturity.
The confrontation may have ended without violence, but it left deep questions in the national conscience. When men of authority quarrel in the open, institutions tremble. The people, once again, become spectators in a theatre of misplaced pride.
It is time for all who hold office — civilian or military — to remember that they serve under the same flag. That flag is neither khaki nor political colour; it is green-white-green, and it demands humility.
No victor, no vanquish only a lesson for a nation still learning to govern itself with dignity.
By; King Onunwor
