A state derives its legitimacy from a simple, foundational promise: that it will protect the lives and dignity of its citizens. When that promise begins to fracture, the consequences are not just legal or political—they are existential.
Recent concerns raised by the Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA) over alleged extrajudicial killings by security operatives point to a troubling reality: a widening gap between the Nigerian state and the people it is meant to serve.
At the heart of the matter is not only the loss of lives, but the erosion of trust. Each reported incident, whether in urban neighborhoods or conflict-prone regions, reinforces a growing perception that accountability is optional and justice uncertain. Official explanations, often framed around “crossfire” or operational necessity, are increasingly met with skepticism—not necessarily because they are false, but because they are rarely followed by transparent, independent verification.
This is where the danger lies.
A security architecture that operates without visible accountability risks losing public confidence. And once that confidence is gone, even legitimate operations are viewed through the lens of suspicion. Citizens become reluctant to cooperate, intelligence dries up, and the very effectiveness of security efforts begins to weaken.
In such an environment, fear replaces trust.
This is not merely a human rights issue—it is a governance crisis. The right to life, enshrined in Nigeria’s Constitution and reinforced by international obligations, is not conditional. It is not subject to convenience, nor can it be collateral in the pursuit of security. When violations occur, the response must be swift, transparent, and just.
The administration of Bola Ahmed Tinubu faces a critical test. Beyond rhetoric, it must demonstrate that no institution is above the law. This requires more than internal probes or quiet disciplinary measures. It demands independent investigations, public disclosure of findings, and visible consequences for wrongdoing—regardless of rank or affiliation.
Equally important is the need for structural reform. Rules of engagement must be enforced, not merely documented. Training must prioritise de-escalation and civilian protection. Oversight mechanisms—both civilian and institutional—must be strengthened to ensure that power is exercised within the bounds of the law.
But perhaps the most urgent task is rebuilding trust.
A society where citizens fear those in uniform is one walking a dangerous path. It breeds silence where there should be cooperation, resentment where there should be partnership, and instability where there should be order.
Nigeria cannot afford that trajectory.
Security and human rights are not opposing goals; they are mutually reinforcing. A state that protects rights strengthens its authority. A state that disregards them undermines its own foundation.
The warning signs are clear. The question is whether those in authority will act before distrust hardens into something far more difficult to repair.