THE security of a nation is measured not by the rhetoric of its ministers, but by the safety of its most vulnerable citizens. In Nigeria, that metric is failing. As we reach the midpoint of 2026, the situation in Zamfara State has moved beyond a “security challenge” and into the realm of a sustained humanitarian catastrophe.
The failure of the Ministry of State for Defence to curb the violence is no longer a matter of abstract political debate; it is a policy failure with a direct, lethal body count.
While the Ministry of Defence periodically speaks of “whole-of-society” approaches and “unified surveillance architectures,” the ground reality in the Northwest contradicts these claims. Since January 2026, Zamfara has seen an intensification of violence, with lethality rates rising by over 7% compared to the previous year.
The policy approach currently championed by Minister Bello Matawalle is, at best, disconnected from the tactical realities of the 21st-century battlefield. We are seeing a reliance on antiquated methods while insurgent groups utilize decentralized, mobile, and technologically savvy tactics.
When a Minister focuses on ceremonial duties—such as managing hydrographic agencies or attending regional summits—while his own backyard becomes a no-go zone for farmers and students, the policy has effectively shifted from protection to abandonment.
The human cost of this strategic paralysis is staggering. Between June 15 and June 19, 2026, alone, nearly 500 people were displaced in a single attack in Gummi Local Government Area, with children—the most innocent of all victims—making up more than half of those fleeing for their lives.
With over 790,000 internally displaced persons (IDPs) across the Northwest, the crisis is hollowing out the region’s social and economic fabric. Families are being ripped apart, farmland is being abandoned, and an entire generation of children is being robbed of a future, forced to trade their classrooms for the dust of IDP camps.
When local government chairmen are forced to confront the sight of mass graves while the Ministry issues statements of improved security, it exposes a moral disconnect that is fundamentally incompatible with public office.
The efficacy of any security policy rests on the integrity of its architects. Minister Matawalle’s tenure is haunted by the unresolved shadow of his time as Governor of Zamfara, including allegations of financial impropriety amounting to N70 billion and persistent, credible questions regarding his relationship with non-state armed actors.
These are not merely political “distractions”; they are direct impediments to national security. A leader under constant ethical and legal scrutiny cannot command the undivided loyalty of the military or the trust of the local communities whose intelligence is vital to winning an asymmetric war. When the Minister is preoccupied with denying bribery allegations or navigating EFCC probes, the strategic focus required to protect lives in Tsafe, Anka, and Gummi is inevitably diluted.
The people of Zamfara are not asking for more press releases or high-level committees; they are asking to survive the night. The current approach to security in the Northwest is an invitation to national erosion.
Nigeria does not need a Minister of State for Defence who is a political fixture; we need a strategist who can translate the “Renewed Hope” agenda into tangible, boots-on-the-ground protection. We need leadership that prioritizes the lives of the 271 children displaced in a single week of violence over the preservation of an administrative position.
If the government remains committed to its promise of securing the nation, it must accept that the current leadership is a liability to that goal. The humanitarian situation in Zamfara is the definitive indictment of the status quo. For the sake of the thousands who have been forced to flee their homes and the memory of those who did not, it is time for a change that puts security, competence, and human life at the heart of our defense mandate.