On The Frontline With Boma
.
When President Bola Ahmed Tinubu recently directed the recruitment of new personnel across the Armed Forces and 40,000 fresh officers into the Nigeria Police Force, many Nigerians welcomed the move as a decisive response to the worsening insecurity gripping the nation. It appeared, at first glance, to be a bold step toward strengthening national defence and revitalising internal policing.
But beyond the excitement of added numbers lies a deeper and more unsettling question: Can recruitment alone fix the structural decay that has plagued policing in Nigeria for decades? The crisis of the Nigeria Police Force is not merely numerical—it is rooted in integrity, welfare, morale, training, cultural breakdown, and years of institutional neglect.
For years, policing in Nigeria has been synonymous with frustration, low morale, and deep structural dysfunction. Unlike their counterparts in the United States, United Kingdom, Canada, and other developed societies—where policing is prestigious, well-funded, and highly competitive,Nigerian police officers operate under conditions that weaken both their dignity and effectiveness.
Consider uniforms, the most basic tool of identity and authority. In other countries, officers receive them as part of welfare packages. Here, many police officers are expected to purchase their own uniforms, including their shoes. It is a demoralising practice for a force already battling public distrust and operational deficits.
. The barracks, which should serve as functional and safe living quarters, are national embarrassments. Many are crowded, dilapidated, leaking, and infested with rodents and reptiles. These are not residences—they are symbols of state abandonment. Who lives in such places and still retains professional pride?
Until recently, salaries were appallingly poor. Officers entrusted with the protection of lives and enforcement of law were paid sums that barely sustained survival. Even the recent adjustments have not fully matched modern policing demands.
The story is worse for retirees. Their situation often mirrors that of teachers who are told their rewards await them in heaven. Pension struggles, delays, neglect, and the absence of welfare support make retirement a nightmare rather than a well-earned rest.
When society fails to support the protectors, it should not be shocked when the system produces the very behaviours it complains about. Bribe-taking, extortion at checkpoints, harassment of motorists, and collaboration with criminal networks did not grow out of thin air—they are symptoms of a broken institution.
The infiltration of corruption also manifests in an even more disturbing pattern: the leakage of sensitive information to criminals. This is not fiction. It is a recurring national tragedy.
I recall a story from the 1990s involving a senior colleague, Mr Tony (now late). He lived in a building where he noticed suspicious activities from a co-tenant named Paul. Believing in the age-old slogan “the police is your friend,” Tony reported the matter to the nearest police station.
What he did not know was that the officers he confided in were compromised. Instead of acting on the intelligence, they allegedly informed the suspect.
.That same night, Paul stormed Tony’s door armed with a gun. He demanded to know why Tony had gone to the police. Terrified beyond words, Tony muttered apologies. Paul spared him—not because of the law, but because he considered Tony “a good neighbour.”
Before dawn, Tony packed his family and fled. That incident shaped his understanding of the deep rot in the policing system.
This is not an isolated story. The infamous Lawrence Anini saga of the 1980s revealed an alarming reality—a top-ranking police officer was part of the operations of one of Nigeria’s deadliest robbery gangs. Trust, already fragile, was shattered.
With such institutional weaknesses, the idea of recruiting 40,000 new officers must be approached with utmost caution.
Reports have previously suggested that individuals with links to Boko Haram, ISWAP, and armed bandit groups may have infiltrated security structures through compromised recruitment processes. Whether through fake credentials, bribery, or collaboration with corrupt insiders, such infiltration poses a catastrophic national threat.
.This recruitment exercise must therefore be airtight, intelligence-driven, and entirely transparent. Screening must be rigorous—biometric verification, community background checks, psychological assessments, and counter-terrorism clearance must be mandatory.
No extremist sympathiser, no individual with unverifiable identity, and no person with criminal antecedents must be allowed into the system. A compromised police force is worse than no police force at all.
Across Nigeria, policing patterns vary greatly. In the South, extortion at checkpoints has become nearly institutionalised. Many motorists factor “settlement money” into their travel expenses. Failure to comply often results in harassment, delay, or even violence.
In contrast, many northern communities exhibit a different policing culture. Officers there, often due to community influence and cultural scrutiny, refrain from open extortion. The contrast is striking.
I experienced it in 2019 at a checkpoint in Sokoto. I casually asked an officer—who, interestingly, was from the South—how “business” was. He sighed, “It’s bad.” I instantly knew he meant that bribe-taking wasn’t feasible in that environment.
These regional differences highlight a core truth: policing is not only about uniforms and guns. It is fundamentally about values, leadership, training, morale, and institutional expectations.
Which brings us back to President Tinubu’s directive. Recruitment in itself is not wrong; indeed, it is necessary. Nigeria is under-policed. But recruitment without reform is merely pouring new wine into a rotten wineskin.
The police need more than boots on the ground. They need better welfare, improved training, modern equipment, forensic capacity, technology-driven policing, and meaningful community engagement.
They need leadership that inspires professionalism, not fear. They need a justice system that supports their efforts, not one that compromises them. They need promotions based on merit, not on backroom deals.
Nigeria must also address the long-standing political and ethnic manipulation of police postings, which breeds resentment and inefficiency. A reformed police force must be professional, not political.
Part of reform must include dismantling the culture of mandatory “returns” to superior officers—a practice that reinforces corruption from the top down and distorts policing priorities.
International best practices should guide the transformation process. In the UK, Canada, and US, policing is attractive because officers are respected, properly compensated, regularly trained, and supported with modern tools. Arrests are evidence-driven, not bribery-driven.
Nigeria cannot copy and paste these systems, but it can adapt their principles. A dignified police officer is less susceptible to corruption. A trained officer is more confident and less insecure. A well-equipped officer is more effective and less brutal.
President Tinubu’s recruitment directive provides an opportunity—if used wisely—to reset the foundation of policing in Nigeria. But without systemic overhaul, the nation risks multiplying a flawed system rather than reforming it.
. The recruitment of 40,000 officers should be the beginning of a broader policing renaissance, not a political token. We cannot polish the surface while leaving the rot beneath untouched.
If we get this right, Nigeria will not only enhance national security but also rebuild public trust in a force that has long been seen as predatory rather than protective.
If we get it wrong, we will expand an institution that desperately needs surgery, not merely supplementation.
The nation waits. The stakes are high. And as always, the frontline remains open for truth.
On the Frontline With Boma is published by The Port Harcourt Telegraph Newspaper authored by the Managing Editor.
