By Okechukwu Nwanguma
Reports emerging from police officers deployed on special operations in hotspot zones across the South-East are both troubling and revealing.
Officers complain bitterly of prolonged deployment without relief, lack of clarity on rotation timelines, and the continued diversion of operational personnel to private duties for individuals. Their words are stark: “We are no longer happy here. We were expecting to be changed, but there is no sign.”
This is not mere grumbling. It is a familiar and dangerous pattern—one that Nigeria has repeatedly ignored at great cost.
According to the officers, while frontline units remain overstretched and exposed, police authorities have attached personnel on so-called “special duty” to private homes and individuals. As a result, men are unavailable where they are most needed. One officer recounts a recent serious confrontation with the Eastern Security Network (ESN), underscoring the risks faced daily by exhausted, under-resourced, and demoralised personnel.
This raises an uncomfortable question: did the President not order an end to the attachment of security personnel to individuals? If such a directive was indeed issued, then either it is being openly flouted or it was never intended to be enforced. Either scenario reflects a dangerous breakdown in command responsibility.
What these police officers are describing mirrors long-standing complaints from soldiers deployed in active conflict zones: extended tours without relief, poor welfare, and the feeling of being forgotten once sent to the frontlines. Fatigue, frustration, and declining morale are not abstract concepts in security operations; they directly affect judgment, discipline, and effectiveness. An exhausted force is not a safer force—it is a vulnerable one.
No security operation can succeed when those expected to enforce the law feel abandoned by the very institution they serve. Prolonged deployment without rotation violates basic operational standards and exposes officers to physical, psychological, and ethical risks. It also fuels resentment, burnout, and, in some cases, misconduct—outcomes that further alienate communities already distrustful of security forces.
More troubling is an allegation that goes to the heart of Nigeria’s security dysfunction. According to officers familiar with operational standards, these duties are meant for Mobile Police units, counterterrorism teams, or other properly trained special formations. As one officer explained, “I performed this kind of duty when I was on Mobile Police. But because of the money allocated for those formations, the system was converted to personal use, and conventional police officers were deployed instead, without proper resources or compensation. It is politics.”
If true, this allegation is grave. It suggests that security operations are being distorted not by strategy, but by patronage; not by operational need, but by the opportunity to siphon public funds. When specialised units exist largely on paper while regular officers are pushed into high-risk operations without support, the result is predictable: suffering at the frontlines and failure on the ground.
The irony is painful. While the government speaks loudly about restoring peace and order in the South-East, it neglects the most basic elements required to achieve that goal: manpower management, welfare, transparency, and accountability. Security is not sustained by rhetoric or firepower alone; it is sustained by systems that respect both the law and the people tasked with enforcing it.
If police officers are left to “pray” for relief instead of relying on a clear rotation policy, then something is fundamentally wrong. Prayer cannot substitute for planning. Hope cannot replace leadership.
The continued deployment of police personnel to guard private individuals—often the powerful and well-connected—while frontline officers remain overstretched is not only unjust; it is strategically reckless. It weakens operational capacity and sends a damaging message about whose safety truly matters in Nigeria.
If the government is serious about addressing insecurity in the South-East and across the country, it must start by telling the truth to itself: security sector reform begins with the welfare, discipline, and proper deployment of security personnel. Orders must be enforced, not merely announced. Frontline officers must be rotated, supported, and treated as professionals—not expendable assets.
A state that neglects those it sends into danger ultimately undermines its own security. Nigeria has seen this movie before. Ignoring these warnings again would be a tragic act of willful amnesia.
