Any enlightened Nigerian who truly understands the affairs of this country will have a clearer picture of the deep collaboration that once existed between the Nigerian state and foreign allies in the fight against terrorism.
Before the 2015 general elections, the then National Security Adviser, Colonel Sambo Dasuki (rtd), was under immense pressure. The administration of President Barack Obama had placed restrictions on the supply of arms and ammunition to Nigeria, a decision that severely weakened the country’s ability to confront the growing menace of Boko Haram.
At that time, Nigeria was bleeding. The world was demanding answers over the fate of the abducted Chibok girls. Nigerians were angry, frustrated, and frightened. President Goodluck Jonathan reportedly ordered his security chiefs not to leave their duty posts. The nation was at war.
One remarkable trait of President Jonathan was his discipline and restraint. He listened more than he spoke. He studied issues deeply before taking decisions. Under his watch, discreet consultations were held, and trusted Nigerians—both at home and abroad—were quietly mobilised to support the country’s security architecture.
High-level meetings were held continuously. Strategic brainstorming sessions took place behind closed doors. The reality was simple: no war can be won without arms, intelligence, and logistics.
At the height of the crisis, Nigerian soldiers were being killed almost daily. Our men were courageous, but courage alone could not stop bullets. The Obama administration’s refusal to approve arms sales left Nigeria dangerously exposed. Boko Haram fighters, riding on stolen weapons and foreign support, were emboldened.
At that time, the menace of Fulani banditry had not yet fully taken root. That chapter would open later, during the administration of President Muhammadu Buhari.
Faced with an existential threat, Nigeria turned to discreet international partnerships. Pakistan and Russia stepped in quietly. More importantly, a highly experienced private military company — STTEP (Specialised Tasks, Training, Equipment and Protection) — was engaged. This was no ordinary outfit.
It was made up of elite combat veterans with deep battlefield experience, many drawn from elite global military units.
Working alongside Nigerian forces, these operatives provided advanced training, night-time combat support, intelligence coordination, and tactical guidance. They helped track insurgents in forests and remote enclaves. Within months, the tide began to turn. Boko Haram was pushed back. Territories were reclaimed. Morale in the Nigerian Army improved dramatically.
By all objective measures, the strategy was working.
Then came 2015.
One of the first major decisions taken by President Muhammadu Buhari upon assuming office was the termination of the contract with these foreign military partners. The official explanation was national sovereignty. The unofficial consequences, however, were far more devastating.
The sudden disengagement of the foreign operatives created a vacuum. The momentum built on the battlefield was lost. Insurgents regrouped. New terror cells emerged. What had been a shrinking threat began to expand again, this time spreading into banditry, mass kidnappings, and rural occupation.
Many within the security community quietly admitted that the decision was a grave error. Some even alleged that the foreign partners had threatened to expose sensitive details surrounding security mismanagement and corruption within the system — a development that made their continued presence politically inconvenient.
Those who truly loved this country paid a heavy price. Many aged rapidly under the burden of responsibility. Some were maligned, blackmailed, and falsely accused. Others were pushed aside after risking everything to stabilise the nation.
I am not claiming that our past leaders were saints. But in all honesty, former President Goodluck Jonathan deserves recognition for his restraint, discipline, and commitment to peace. History will judge him kindly.
From his actions, one timeless lesson stands out: power is transient. No one holds it forever.
Mogaji Wole Arisekola
Publisher, The Street Journal
Ibadan
