In Kebbi state, we are being forced to reimagine insecurity as the new currency of politics; the legal tender with which desperate politicians now seek to buy public sympathy and acceptance. And from all indications, the designer and chief trader in this new currency is none other than the former Minister of Justice and Attorney-General of the Federation, Abubakar Cika Malami.
The script is simple: portray Kebbi as a state besieged by insecurity and political thuggery so that the people may view the governor as a victim of failure; a supposed saviour rising from the ruins he himself has painted.
But perhaps Malami has miscalculated. He seems to have grossly underrated the intellectual and political awareness of the people of Kebbi, who can see through the haze of his carefully staged performance. To expose this deceit, let us begin with some honest questions, the kind that form the foundation of any serious inquiry.
The first question Malami must answer is, during the years when he strutted through the corridors of power as the most powerful justice minister Nigeria had ever seen (though for all the wrong reasons), was Kebbi state free of insecurity? Secondly, while he enjoyed the privileges of office and allegedly facilitated the enrichment of cronies through recovered assets and other national resources, did he once set foot in any local government area of Kebbi to commiserate with victims or offer assistance where insecurity struck?
Finally, and the most obvious question, therefore, is why now? Did Malami just wake from a long political slumber to discover insecurity in Kebbi state? Nigerians have seen this familiar act before; this sudden moral awakening of politicians who discover public interest only when it suits their ambitions. It is insulting to the sensibilities of the people of Kebbi state for Malami to think he can profit from such a tired strategy.
For clarity, bandits do not inform governors where or when they will attack. And governors do not command the armed forces of Nigeria. Whatever intelligence security agencies choose to share with governors is, in most cases, a matter of courtesy, not obligation.
So, what exactly is expected of a governor within Nigeria’s current security framework? Two things: logistical and moral support. Since they do not command the military, most governors provide vehicles, operational allowances, and welfare support for victims of insecurity.
And on both counts, no one has demonstrated this responsibility better than Comrade Governor Nasir Idris, the Kauran Gwandu. Until his emergence, Kebbi had never witnessed the scale of logistical investment — vehicles, motorcycles, and communication tools now dedicated to improving security operations. On the welfare front, Governor Nasir stands among the few leaders who rush to ground zero of any attack as swiftly as possible to identify with victims, console families, and coordinate relief.
His commitment to tackling insecurity is not only passionate but structured. Recently, he hosted a global security consortium, G-Safety, in Kebbi. Many have commended this move as a welcomed development and it underscores his openness to international collaboration in modern security management.
In contrast, Malami and his camp have invested their energy not in finding solutions but in orchestrating narratives that malign the government. Across their sponsored broadcasts and manipulative commentaries, one thing is glaringly absent: substance. None of them has offered a single actionable idea that was ignored or rejected by the state government. So, it’s clear that their aim is never to save the people of Kebbi state as they pretend, but to paint a hopeless picture with the hope of profiting from it. This is a most chillingly sinister gameplay.
From what is increasingly becoming a staged attack on him and his political rally-like commiseration or nuptial visits, to his false alarm raising and that highly condemned petition to security agencies crying foul, everything Malami has done has been straight out of the playbook of political currency.
It is a tired tactic that thrives on sensationalism and fear. The whole plan is to brand the government as weak, amplify isolated incidents into full-blown crises, and then present yourself as the messiah who alone can restore order. Unfortunately for Malami, Kebbi state is no stranger to such antics. The people have learned to separate political theatre from governance reality.
Governor Nasir Idris has continued to show quiet strength, focusing on real work rather than political showmanship. While others play the victim sport, he plays in the league of impact. Under his watch, Kebbi state has seen renewed coordination between local vigilante groups, community leaders, and security agencies. This includes the recent training of all 21 Local government chairmen and grassroots security. There’s a visible sense of partnership in confronting the security challenge, not the blame games that once defined past approaches.
His government’s approach has also extended to tackling the socio-economic roots of insecurity which includes poverty, youth unemployment, and rural neglect. The governor’s empowerment programmes, agricultural interventions, and renewed investment in rural infrastructure have proven to be more than mere policies on paper; they are deliberate efforts to choke off the recruitment base of criminal networks. These are the quiet, often uncelebrated efforts that gradually rebuild community trust and strengthen the social fabric against violence.
So, when Malami and his co-travelers try to weaponise the pain of the people for political capital, it becomes not just shameful but dangerous. Such antics demoralise the security operatives risking their lives and sow seeds of confusion among citizens who are struggling to stay hopeful. Insecurity is not an avenue for political score-settling, it ought to be a shared burden that requires maturity, cooperation, and sincerity of purpose.
Unfortunately, the desperation to remain politically relevant after falling out of power has pushed some people to believe that destroying the reputation of their own state is a fair price to pay for attention. This self-serving posture is unbecoming of anyone who once held a national office. And it’s strange because, public service should ennoble, not embitter.
Thankfully, Governor Idris has refused to be drawn into their noise. Our governor understands that leadership is not about responding to every provocation but about staying focused on results. His quiet but consistent engagement with security stakeholders, his personal presence at crisis zones, and his resolute support for victims all point to a leader driven by duty, not drama.
For all his imperfections, Kauran Gwandu has shown that governance is better measured by the sincerity of effort than by the loudness of propaganda. It is this sincerity that keeps the people behind him, despite the attempts to twist reality. Kebbi state’s relative stability today, compared to many of its neighbours, is not a coincidence, it is the fruit of deliberate action, patient coordination, and responsible leadership.
Those who choose to downplay these efforts in favour of their false narratives must be reminded that the people of Kebbi state are watching. They know who is working and who is merely performing. They know who stands with them in their moments of distress and who waits for such moments to score political points.
Insecurity should never become a bargaining chip in the market of politics. It demeans our collective humanity and betrays the trust of those who look to leaders for safety and hope. If Malami or anyone believes they can do better, they should wait for the ballot box; that sacred arena where power truly belongs to the people. Until then, they should stop toying with the peace of Kebbi state.
The state deserves better – leaders who unite to solve problems, not divide; not amplify them. Because when insecurity becomes political currency, it is the people who pay the price. And Kebbi, a state with a proud history of tolerance, discipline, and communal strength, will never allow itself to be reduced to the theatre of one man’s ambition.