State Police and the Dangers of Political Ownership

Femi Akintunde-Johnson

Nigeria may finally be approaching a major turning point in its policing architecture. Reports that 30 State Houses of Assembly have endorsed the proposed constitutional amendment establishing state police suggest that the reform has crossed a significant legislative hurdle. The required threshold is 24 states, and both chambers of the National Assembly have passed the proposal. However, the implementing legislation and consequential amendments remain part of the process. Nigeria is not simply switching on 36 new police commands; it is attempting to redesign a critical national institution.

The argument for decentralisation is neither new nor unreasonable. A country of Nigeria’s size, diversity and security challenges places enormous demands on a policing system whose command structure has been overwhelmingly centralised. From kidnapping and banditry to communal violence and localised criminal networks, the circumstances confronting one community may differ substantially from those in another. A police service familiar with its environment should, in principle, be better positioned to gather intelligence, respond promptly and build public confidence.

But there is a difference between proximity and effectiveness. Bringing policing closer to the people may improve responsiveness; bringing it closer to political power may create another set of dangers. The fundamental question is not merely whether governors should control police forces, but what safeguards will prevent those forces from becoming extensions of their political ambitions.

Nigeria does not lack laws, institutions or impressive declarations of intent. What it frequently lacks is the consistent application of rules when powerful interests are involved. State police could be a welcome reform, but it could also become another arena in which public institutions are treated as the personal property of whoever occupies the Government House. The political culture that influences appointments, contracts and public employment will not automatically disappear at the police recruitment centre.

Recruitment is therefore a critical starting point. Who will select the officers, and how will the public know that they were chosen on merit? If recruitment becomes an exercise in distributing favours, rewarding loyalists and accommodating influential sponsors, the force could be compromised before its first patrol. Transparent selection criteria, independently supervised examinations, credible background checks and rigorous physical and psychological assessments must be non-negotiable. Bribery, falsified credentials and political interference must attract consequences.

Training must also go beyond parade-ground discipline and proficiency with firearms. Officers need competence in criminal investigation, evidence preservation, intelligence gathering, human rights, lawful use of force and conflict de-escalation. A uniform does not confer wisdom, and a weapon is no substitute for professional judgement. Nigeria has experienced enough encounters in which those entrusted with enforcing the law have themselves been accused of abusing it. Decentralisation must not reproduce those failures under 36 different flags.

Funding presents another challenge. A police service cannot be sustained by announcements and ceremonial vehicle commissioning. Salaries, training, communications, forensic facilities, transport, pensions, maintenance and operational intelligence require dependable financing. States must provide realistic budgets, supported by transparent expenditure and regular independent audits.

Yet states have unequal financial capacities. If policing quality becomes closely tied to each state’s wealth, Nigerians could find themselves living under dramatically different standards of public protection. A transparent national support framework may be needed to help less affluent states build essential capabilities. Assistance should follow objective criteria, not become a political reward or punishment. Equally, private donations must not give wealthy individuals or businesses undue influence over police operations. Public safety is a public responsibility; the police must answer to the law, not to the generosity of private benefactors.

The most politically sensitive question may be the relationship between state police and Nigeria’s electoral culture. As political parties and candidates position themselves for the 2027 general election, the danger of policing becoming an instrument of political advantage cannot be ignored. A governor may be tempted to use the force against opposition figures, troublesome journalists, demonstrators or rivals within the governing party. This is not an assertion that every governor will abuse the power. It is a recognition that institutions must be designed to withstand the ambitions of those who may control them.

The proposed arrangements for appointing state commissioners of police, including the reported role of governors and legislative confirmation, will therefore matter greatly. So will the independence of oversight bodies, the professional autonomy of police leadership and the circumstances in which federal authorities may intervene. These are not technical details to be settled casually after political leaders have acquired the powers they seek. They are central to whether the reform strengthens public safety or weakens democratic accountability.

The electoral implications extend beyond individual abuses. If state police becomes too closely associated with the fortunes of the administration promoting it, a change of government could weaken the commitment to implementation. A successor might also be tempted to replace professional leadership with political loyalists. A policing institution must outlast the politicians who establish, fund or supervise it.

Other countries offer useful lessons, although none provides a ready-made template. India, a large and diverse federation, places police and public order primarily within the responsibilities of its states, while central agencies handle specialised national duties. Brazil combines federal policing with state-level forces performing different functions, alongside municipal guards in some jurisdictions. The United States has federal agencies, state police organisations, county sheriffs and municipal police departments, with arrangements varying across states.

These systems differ in constitutional design, resources and political culture. Their common lesson is that multiple levels of policing require clearly defined responsibilities, adequate funding, professional standards and effective coordination. More police forces do not automatically produce more security. Poorly defined boundaries can instead create rivalry, duplication and confusion that criminals exploit.

Nigeria will need reliable arrangements for intelligence sharing, joint operations, cross-border investigations and the pursuit of suspects moving between states. Terrorism, arms trafficking, organised kidnapping and cybercrime do not respect state boundaries. A capable federal police service will remain necessary, with clearly defined national responsibilities and effective cooperation with state commands. The objective must be a coordinated security system, not 36 competing fiefdoms.

Should policing also be devolved to local governments, as some may advocate? Not necessarily at the outset. Local knowledge is indispensable, but establishing separate police services at every tier could multiply command conflicts, funding disparities and opportunities for political capture. State forces can develop district and divisional structures, community-level intelligence arrangements and credible channels for reporting misconduct. Local government policing may be considered in the future, but only when local autonomy, administrative capacity and accountability are sufficiently established. Adding another layer before the first is properly designed could complicate rather than solve the problem.

Nor will state police, by itself, resolve Nigeria’s insecurity. Better intelligence will achieve little if investigations are poorly conducted, evidence is compromised, prosecutions fail or cases languish in court. Policing alone cannot address the social and economic conditions that make criminal networks attractive. Effective security requires a functioning justice system, competent institutions and public cooperation.

The challenge is larger than a constitutional amendment. Nigeria must establish an institution strong enough to protect citizens but sufficiently constrained to prevent abuse. Its officers must enforce the law without becoming instruments of whoever holds political power. The system must protect government supporters and opponents, the influential and the ordinary, the majority and the minority.

The enthusiasm surrounding the legislative milestone is understandable. A long-standing demand for more responsive policing appears closer to reality. But legislative progress should not be confused with guaranteed security. The real work lies in the funding, recruitment standards, professional safeguards and accountability mechanisms that determine how the system operates.

State police may change who controls policing in Nigeria. The more important question is whether it will change how Nigerians experience policing. If it brings competent officers closer to communities, improves intelligence and protects citizens more effectively, it will have earned its place in the country’s constitutional evolution. If it merely relocates political interference from Abuja to the state capitals, Nigeria will have changed the address of the problem without solving it.

The task is to decentralise police power without decentralising impunity. That is the standard by which this reform should be judged – not by the number of assemblies endorsing it or vehicles commissioned, but by whether Nigerians become safer and more confident that the law protects them all.