Niran Bamisaye
When insecurity is discussed in Nigeria, attention is often focused on casualty figures, territories reclaimed, kidnappers arrested, or weapons recovered. Yet one of the least discussed consequences is the loss of human capital and the devastating impact on the families left behind. Those who die in the line of duty are not mere statistics. They are fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, sons and daughters whose absence leaves scars that may never completely heal.
Recent events have once again brought this painful reality into focus. Seventeen police officers undergoing specialised training at the Nigerian Army Special Forces School in Buni Yadi, Yobe State, lost their lives in a terrorist attack. Around the same period, four officers were reportedly killed in an attack on a police facility in Borno State. In Oyo and Kogi states, cases of kidnapping served as reminders that insecurity remains a national challenge that spares no region. Beyond the headlines and official statements are families whose lives have been altered forever.
It was against this backdrop that the disbursement of over ₦2.4 billion to 1,075 beneficiaries of deceased police officers by the Inspector-General of Police, Olatunji Rilwan Disu, assumed greater significance. The payment, which covered outstanding claims dating back to 2018, was more than a welfare exercise. It was an acknowledgement that institutions owe a duty to those who make the ultimate sacrifice. However, it would be premature to celebrate, because compensating families after the loss of loved ones is necessary, but motivating officers while they are alive is even more important.
The conversation must go beyond insurance benefits and ceremonial tributes. It must include better welfare packages, improved accommodation, quality healthcare, modern equipment, psychological support and continuous training. Men and women who daily confront armed criminals should not have to battle poor welfare and uncertainty about the future of their families. No institution can expect extraordinary sacrifices from personnel who feel neglected. Motivation is not a luxury; it is a strategic necessity.
Perhaps this is also the time to remove politics from the issue of security. Criminals do not ask about political affiliation before striking. Terrorists do not recognise ethnicity or religion, and kidnappers do not discriminate between regions. Insecurity hurts everyone. Unfortunately, debates around security often degenerate into partisan contests, with attention shifting from solutions to blame games. Peace and security are too important to become political football.
The consequences of persistent insecurity extend far beyond the immediate victims. Investors are discouraged, farmers abandon their lands, businesses relocate, tourism suffers, and communities are displaced. Economic growth slows, and national development becomes difficult when lives and livelihoods are constantly under threat. Behind every abandoned farm is reduced food production. Behind every community forced to flee violence is lost productivity. Behind every officer killed in active service is years of experience and expertise that the nation can never recover.
This is why the country must tread carefully in its approach to dealing with criminal groups. While negotiations and peace initiatives may sometimes become necessary, rewarding violence through indiscriminate amnesty or concessions carries unintended consequences. Such measures risk sending the wrong signal to law-abiding citizens and may undermine the morale of security personnel who risk their lives daily in defence of the nation.
Dialogue has its place, but justice and accountability must never be sacrificed. Lasting peace cannot be built on appeasement alone. It requires strong institutions, effective intelligence gathering, economic opportunities, and sustained support for those charged with protecting society. In this regard, the recent intervention by IGP Disu deserves commendation. Leadership is often revealed by priorities, and addressing longstanding welfare obligations to families of fallen officers sends an important message that sacrifice will not be forgotten.
Still, the greater challenge remains. How do we ensure that fewer names are added to the roll call of the fallen? How do we create a Nigeria where those who protect society are adequately equipped and motivated? How do we build a nation where peace and security are treated as collective responsibilities rather than political talking points?
When a police officer falls in the line of duty, the loss is not borne by the family alone. Nigeria loses. Until we begin to see insecurity not merely as a security problem but also as a development problem, we may continue to count our losses in lives, dreams and opportunities that can never be recovered. May the labour of our fallen heroes never be in vain.
Niran Bamisaye wrote in from Lagos.
