The Dangerous Plan To Sublet Our Security

More than seventy-two hours after Sunday Adeyemo, popularly known as Sunday Igboho, launched a private security network, Iru Ekun, in Ibadan, the Oyo State capital, the federal government’s deafening silence is worrying. Igboho said the network was established to strengthen community security and tackle crime.

Yet the authorities have remained silent on an initiative that raises fundamental questions about security control, the rule of law, and the consequences of allowing individuals to establish private security networks.

In its 27 October edition, LEADERSHIP reported that the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA), the Nigeria Police Force and the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps had yet to clarify their positions on the establishment of Igboho’s security network. This silence only deepens public anxiety and fuels speculation.

RELATED: NSA, Police, Others Keep Mum Over Igboho’s 20,000-man Security Outfit

Not the right path

Solving our nation’s deep security crisis is urgent, but adopting explosive, vigilante-style tactics will only make it worse. There is an urgent need to find a lasting solution to the seemingly intractable security challenges facing the nation; resorting to the Igboho-style approach is certainly not the way forward.

According to media reports, at least 20,000 volunteers have joined the security outfit. Have these volunteers been trained? If so, by whom and what training have they received? What are their rules of engagement? These questions cannot be brushed aside. They go to the heart of whether such an organisation can operate responsibly in a country already grappling with severe security challenges.

Igboho also claimed that since it’s inception the security outfit has collaborated with the Nigerian Army, the Nigeria Police Force, the Department of State Services, and other security agencies to curb abductions, killings, and broader insecurity, particularly in the South-West. However, the Nigerian public deserves to know whether these security agencies formally approved the initiative.

Igboho has consistently described himself as an agitator for the Yoruba nation. He is also an avid supporter of President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, the All Progressives Congress presidential candidate in the January 16, 2027, election. He recently declared that “anyone who abuses Tinubu, I will abuse them too”. That statement raises legitimate concerns about whether a security organisation under his control can remain impartial in discharging its duties.

When a security apparatus falls under the command of a partisan zealot, any illusion of neutrality dies. We are left with a much darker question: why was an individual ever permitted to weaponise a private network like this?

The nation faces brutal killings, displaced communities, and calculated abductions. The reality is undeniable: our state security apparatus is buckling under the strain of the crisis. Fighting back requires us to mobilise every layer of society now, because relying on an exhausted military is a luxury we can no longer afford.

We cannot cure lawlessness with a lawless militia. Elevating an individual such as Igboho to the rank of private security commander is a fatal mistake. It creates a ghost army with no accountability and unpredictable loyalties. This will not save us; it will pour petrol on an already raging fire.

Election tools?

The sudden launch of Sunday Igboho’s Iru Ekun Security Network could not have come at a more volatile moment. With the general election less than one hundred days away, a fiercely partisan figure who has already sworn allegiance to one presidential contender has deployed a private security force directly into a rival candidate’s territory.

Across Nigeria, alarm bells are ringing. There is widespread fear that these volunteers are not protectors but political chess pieces, poised to be weaponised at the ballot box. Whether these anxieties materialise remains to be seen, but one fact is undeniable: the timing is a powder keg, and the federal government’s deafening silence is terrifying.

Can a security force built, commanded, and controlled by a radical separatist ever deliver justice to an outsider? When a lieutenant openly vows to crush anyone who insults his chosen political god, fairness becomes a fiction. What impenetrable walls stand in the way of this network becoming a weapon of ethnic cleansing and political terror? These are not mere doubts; they are an existential warning that cannot be ignored.

It is ironic that, after making appreciable progress towards establishing state police, we are now discussing a security outfit established by an individual whose organisation’s training, operational procedures and accountability arrangements have yet to be clearly set out in the public domain.

Like Igboho, Like Badejo

History repeats itself, following a dangerous and familiar course. In 2024, the Fulani socio-cultural association, Miyetti Allah Kautal Hore, established what it called the Nomad Vigilante. This sparked fierce national controversy, raising concerns about what happens when an ethnic group builds its own standing army while the nation is grappling with widespread lawlessness.

Miyetti Allah Kautal Hore inaugurated the group, comprising 1,144 Fulani youths, reportedly drawn from various communities across the 13 local government areas of Nasarawa State, and claimed it would complement the efforts of conventional security agencies.

The group’s national president, Bello Badejo, said at the time that the profiling of additional recruits was ongoing, with a target to enlist up to 4,000 youths.

Like Igboho, Bodejo claimed that his Nomad Vigilante would partner with the nation’s security agencies to identify and arrest criminals, gather intelligence, and conduct surveillance to address threats to life and property. However plausible these objectives sounded, widespread concerns persisted about the group’s operations. The launch of the Fulani Nomad Vigilante drew immediate condemnation amid deep-seated fears that it could devolve into an ethnic militia.

The controversy forced the government to proscribe the group and arrest Bello Bodejo. If there is any lesson, it is that the government cannot apply different standards to private security initiatives based on the identity, ethnic affiliation, or political connections of those behind them. If an initiative raises questions about legality, accountability, and the potential emergence of an ethnic militia, it cannot be what the nation needs.

Way to go

In its security report covering 16 to 22 October 2026, SBM Intelligence, a security and political risk consulting firm, hinted at a possible expansion of armed groups’ activities across several regions, with rising threats of kidnappings, reprisal killings, attacks on security personnel, and clashes between rival militant groups.

SBM warned that violence could escalate across parts of Plateau, Niger, Zamfara, Adamawa and other states as armed groups compete for territory, revenue and influence.

Essentially, concerns such as those raised in the SBM Intelligence report are sufficient for the government to scrutinise and, where necessary, halt the activities of security networks, including the one contemplated by Sunday Igboho. The country cannot afford developments that may deepen existing divisions or create new centres of armed influence outside established security institutions.

Instead of entertaining the Iru Ekun security outfit—which risks paving the way for a surge in similar organisations that could morph into ethnic militias—the nation must equip existing security agencies and prioritise personnel welfare to ensure optimal performance. The government should also hasten the institutionalisation of state policing.

To leave Igboho’s security apparatus unchecked and unaccountable is nothing short of a treacherous surrender, implying that we are subletting the nation’s security to an individual. Its operations must be halted immediately!

** More Like An Election Gimmick**

After erasing the middle class and successfully onboarding millions of Nigerians into poverty, the government has suddenly discovered the formula for economic salvation. It began with a 30-day discount on petrol at NNPC stations. The token discount, with an expiry date, had no impact.

Then, in what appears to be another stroke of perfect timing, the National Economic Council has endorsed a 90-day plan to address Nigeria’s economic woes, make food affordable and attract investors. The 90-day period ends in January 2027, just in time for the election season. It is what it is: an election gimmick dressed as a temporary relief package that expires when politicians get the votes.