By Ademola Adekusibe
In Nigeria today, calamity has become an almost constant companion. Violence, abduction, and terror are no longer anomalies. They have become daily realities for countless communities. Yet, the institutions designed to protect the citizenry frequently abandon their charges at their most vulnerable moments. Local security forces are instructed to stand down just minutes before attacks. Soldiers have reportedly disclosed sensitive locations to the very terror groups they are supposed to confront. Thirty minutes before invaders strike, protection is withdrawn. How can a government claim to serve its people when its actions leave villages, schools, and churches defenseless? How can citizens trust in a state that permits such betrayals?
Across Nigeria, patterns of strategic preparation are quietly emerging. Communities in the North, the Middle Belt, and even the South are arming themselves. These measures are not spontaneous reactions to fear. They are calculated responses to insecurity and, more significantly, reflect a growing awareness of the Southwest’s economic and political ascendancy. From Lagos to Osun, Ekiti, Ondo, Oyo, Ogun, the Yoruba continue to innovate, drive commerce, and assert influence in national politics. Meanwhile, other regions, perceiving both our power and our wealth, are quietly preparing contingencies. This is not a call to arms. It is an observation of reality. Prominence invites scrutiny, competition, and, in some cases, subtle containment. The Yoruba must acknowledge this dynamic and act with foresight. Economic brilliance and political assertiveness are strengths. But if security is compromised, those strengths become vulnerabilities.
The patterns of terror and betrayal across the country are harrowing. Entire communities are wiped out, schools are ransacked, and innocent lives are lost. Heroes fall not only to bullets but to systemic failure. Security agencies receive intelligence yet fail to act, allowing criminals to operate with impunity. This is rarely incompetence alone. It borders on deliberate abandonment. Meanwhile, vast sums flow into development funds, empowerment initiatives, and high-profile donations, all framed as progress. But insecurity persists. Are these interventions genuine attempts at upliftment, or do they mask systemic neglect while empowering forces that destabilize society? The timing, amounts, and narratives surrounding these funds demand critical scrutiny.
The implications for the Yoruba are profound. Neglect and betrayal are rarely accidental. When protection is removed and promises are hollow, the consequences are severe. Schools raided, villages destroyed, churches burned, and citizens negotiating with terror while politicians issue press statements. The moral decay runs as deep as the insecurity itself. Meanwhile, other regions’ preparation, quiet, strategic, and deliberate, serves as a reminder that vigilance is not optional. It is imperative. The Yoruba cannot afford to ignore the lessons unfolding around them.
History teaches the Yoruba the value of foresight, prudence, and courage. From the city-states of old to the commercial powerhouses of Lagos and Ibadan, we have survived through intellect, strategy, and unity. Today, that same vigilance is needed more than ever. Observe the nation carefully. The North is strengthening local militias. Communities are arming themselves. Those who claim to govern often appear distant from the consequences of their policies. This is a moment for the Yoruba to study, plan, and act wisely. Not rashly. Not violently. But decisively in the spheres of influence that we control.
It is time for Nigerians to see clearly. This is not about religion, ethnicity, or politics. It is about accountability, foresight, and justice. Silence is complicity. Delay is surrender. Only by confronting these uncomfortable truths can we hope to endure as a nation. For the Yoruba, the message is urgent. Remain vigilant. Protect your communities. Leverage your influence strategically. History favors the perceptive, and in a nation where betrayal often wears the guise of governance, perceptiveness is survival.
