The government and Its good children, by Ugoji Egbujo

Since Simon Ekpa was incarcerated, many of his men have lost funding and emerged from the bushes. They had believed they would become brigade commanders and service chiefs in a new Biafra. The role of delusion and disillusionment in this intractable saga has not been fully appreciated. In Imo, insurgency camps that remained impregnable for four years have crumbled under onslaughts by security agencies and local vigilantes or been deserted by disillusioned boys haunted by the bleakness of their dreams. Yet the government has not harnessed this opportunity.

Simon Ekpa’s incarceration has created a window to weaken the Southeast insurgency, but with   the government’s lack of a proactive, comprehensive strategy   this advantage is being squandered. Many boys who left the camps have returned to their villages or communities where they can loiter and blend out of radar. They return hungry, jobless, red-eyed, still clinging to Biafra, preaching righteousness and rebirth, yet intimidating people with their carnivorous miens.

With their rifles and proven capacity to make people disappear, they pose a threat. Communities treat them with quiet suspicion and trepidatious submission rather than defiance and revulsion. The contradictions they represent are too complex for ordinary people to interrogate and engage. A large part of their mystery lies in the state’s unfathomable inability to carry out espionage , decide its course of action and inspire public confidence.

In the past, the military would happily   camp two kilometers from the center of deserted communities occupied by insurgents. The state seemed satisfied with the peace of deserted villages. The insurgents would   use their side of the partitioned territory as a launchpad to foray into nearby and distant communities to graze on them. How the state found such diabolical cohabitations   convenient is baffling. This anomaly persists in some places today. Yet the epicenter of the insurgency in the Southeast spans no more than a 50-kilometer radius—an area a couple of good drones could scan in hours. Within this radius, vibrant communities have become ghost towns, surrendered to the insurgency by a weak bumbling state. The puzzling impotence of state and federal governments must be studied.

The government might feel the local people are partly responsible for their comeuppance. The widespread sentimental attachment of the average Igbo to Biafra and perennial feelings of marginalization may have helped birth this monster. But this scourge has undeniably devastated Igbo land. The country has lost too many   innocent citizens, soldiers, and policemen to this disaster. So any official indignation must be channeled toward a rapid and definitive resolution. Yet the end does not appear in sight. The government appears perpetually jaded, lacking courage and new ideas. There is no strategic coherence or urgency. It does not seem to understand it has a   duty to eradicate the insurgency using all tools—political, military, and economic. The satisfaction with piecemeal gains cones from complacency. A   disjointed and constipated approach will never suffice. There must be a broad, comprehensive strategy to defeat the challenge. The insurgency in the Southeast is neither inevitable nor insurmountable. It has lasted too long.

The Good Boys who have left the bushes are in the villages, insinuating themselves into vigilante structures, usurping traditional institutions in briad daylight. In many communities that saw no serious insurgency activities, a slow immersion of these Good Children   is now happening, and nobody seems bothered. In some communities, village authorities have surrendered without a fight, fearful of harm. The boys have usurped dispute resolution mechanisms. Locals say they are more honest than the police, but they know they have become prey. This forced assimilation of returning fighters, who retain their canines and maintain contact with others still in the bushes, may seem innocuous initially, but it is a pernicious evolution of the crisis.

The government must remain awake. After Simon Ekpa’s incarceration, these developments should have been anticipated. When bandit and insurgent camps are dismantled, the diffusion of fighters into hitherto quiet spaces should surprise no one. Any   counterinsurgency effort relying on sporadic, uncoordinated Tigbuo-zogbo rather than meticulous intelligence and stealth will yield more spectacle than substance. That sort of   approach may entertain or serve political propaganda, but it will fail to address the root causes or manage the fallout.

They call themselves the Good Children. These returning insurgents ought to be debriefed and processed. They should be assessed, defanged, rehabilitated, and reintegrated. The government cannot afford mental laziness. In clinical medicine, it’s often better not to dislodge and disseminate a localized infection without commencing adequate systemic treatment. The government must keep pace with the   dynamics of the crisis.   The military, police, and DSS have intelligence units. Why do they always seem ill-informed, clumsy, and many paces behind?

However, this is not the time to point fingers. Our security agents have borne the brunt. They need motivation and encouragement. But to protect their lives   and the integrity their great   institutions, we must institute a proper culture of accountability. It is overdue. The military and police are spread thin. New ideas and attitudes on security and law enforcement are needed. But the president must task service chiefs and local commanders. We cannot keep doing what we have done in the Southeast for the last five years.

The military, police, and DSS must enhance intelligence-gathering, leveraging drones and real-time monitoring to track fighter movements and prevent their indiscriminate integration into communities. The 50-kilometer epicenter is manageable for such technology. The president must find the courage to issue orders and ultimatums to commanders and service chiefs. They should be   promoted, demoted or fired based on their ability to contain the crisis, as assessed by independent monitors and   civil society groups. Otherwise , there will be no imperative   incentive to end the insurgency.    

The government must adopt a broad, multi-faceted approach. An amnesty program could offer retraining and reintegration for repentant fighters, requiring psychological de-radicalization, vocational training, and economic incentives to deter a return to violence. The detention of Nnamdi Kanu, IPOB’s leader, remains a rallying point for the insurgents. Revisiting his case—potentially through a political resolution or transparent legal process—could douse tensions.

A regional   dialogue involving Igbo leaders to address underlying grievances has become necessary . All groups in Nigeria must have an equal and shared sense of belonging. The economic devastation in Igbo land, exacerbated by sit-at-home orders, requires targeted investment. Job creation and infrastructure development can reduce the appeal of insurgency for unemployed youth.

This is a good window. The Good Children are there for the taking. Igboland needs to breathe.   

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