The Chairman, House of Representatives Committee on Defence, Hon. Babajimi Adegoke Benson, on the floor of the House last week, gave what has turned out to be one of the most profound submissions on the nation’s security situation, writes Oluwaseyi Adedotun
In the House of Representatives chamber, which many Nigerians see as being long accustomed to routine statements and predictable rhetoric on insecurity, a speech recently offered by the House Committee Chairman on Defence, Hon. Babajimi Benson, Member representing Ikorodu Federal Constituency, offered something entirely different.
Rising in plenary, he did not speak as a politician seeking applause, nor as a committee chairman reciting talking points. He spoke, in his own words, “as the voice of millions of Nigerians, who yearn for a nation that is safe, hopeful, united and prosperous.”
From the very first sentence, it was clear that this was not a speech about finger-pointing or blame-shifting. It was an unflinching assessment of Nigeria’s security challenges, a narrative that traced the roots of insecurity to history, governance, regional instability and institutional weaknesses, while also offering tangible pathways for reform.
One of the most arresting moments of Benson’s speech came when he reflected on Nigeria’s military interventions in West Africa. Babajinmi’s speech painted, in part, the picture of a country paying the price of integrity and regional ‘big brotherism’.
This is as he recounted an era when Nigeria deployed its forces with “full force and with our full arsenal, purchased under the Shagari regime,” and helped stabilise his brother countries – Liberia and Sierra Leone.
He recalled that the campaigns were decisive, the missions successful and Nigeria emerged as a regional power capable of decisive action. But what followed was a perspective rarely voiced in public debates on security: Nigeria did not behave as many other nations might have in such circumstances.
Benson stated, with deliberate clarity, that Nigeria “did not stay to milk or make money out of their predicament.” In a sentence, he acknowledged a widely held public perception that foreign military interventions often serve the interests of the intervening power rather than the vulnerable nation itself.
By contrast, Nigeria’s choice, he explained, was one of honesty and restraint. “We were honest,” he said. “We did not do what other nations would do, that is, ‘stay longer than necessary and exploit or pilfer vulnerable nations’ when we went to Sierra Leone and Liberia.”
For many Nigerians, this line resonates beyond the history lesson. It taps into a suspicion that international intervention in conflict zones frequently prioritises profit, strategic influence, or political leverage.
Benson’s recounting of Nigeria’s past actions underscores a different path: one rooted in principle and duty, even when it comes at a cost to her domestic security capacity.
The cost, he made clear, has been substantial. Nigeria’s military, once formidable, had expended critical equipment without neighbouring countries. In the decades since, the country has struggled to rebuild what was sacrificed in the interest of regional stability.
Benson, however, framed this not as failure, but as a long-term consequence of integrity: a country paying the price for doing what it considered morally right. “We went, we saw, we conquered,” he said, adding: “but we were honest. That honesty has left us with challenges we continue to face today.”
Benson’s analysis did not stop with historical reflection. He extended the lens to Nigeria’s regional environment, pointing out that insecurity cannot be understood in isolation from neighbouring dynamics.
Political instability in the Sahel, the rise of military juntas and the absence of robust security presences across certain borders, according to him, have created corridors for extremist movements to operate with relative impunity.
To the east, he noted the long-standing fallout from Libya’s collapse. Since the fall of Gaddafi, he said, the unregulated influx of light and heavy weapons into the region has exacerbated domestic insecurity.
Benson’s framing positions Nigeria not merely as a nation beset by internal failure, but as a country navigating complex regional pressures, some of which originate far beyond its borders.
This perspective is notable because it challenges the often-simplified narrative of insecurity in Nigeria as a purely internal crisis. It situates the conversation within a wider, more realistic geopolitical context, demonstrating that any serious solution must address not only domestic institutions but also regional realities.
As Chairman of the House Committee on Defence, Benson spoke with the authority of someone intimately familiar with Nigeria’s security architecture. He provided details rarely shared publicly.
He spoke of ongoing efforts to deepen coordination among the Department of State Services (DSS), the National Intelligence Agency (NIA), the Defence Intelligence Agency (DIA), the police and state security units.
He mooted the idea of developing regional intelligence fusion centres across Nigeria’s six geopolitical zones, which he said would preempt threats before they escalate.
Contrary to the belief of some analysts and observers, Benson also revealed a surprising insight: Nigeria’s military is not overstretched in terms of capacity; it is overstretched because of the roles it has been forced to assume.
“Our military is not overstretched,” he said. “The responsibilities of the military are overstretched.”
In other words, the armed forces are performing duties traditionally reserved for the police, covering for a system that has eroded at the local level.
This observation flips the conventional narrative and underscores the systemic nature of the problem: insecurity is not simply a question of manpower or funding, but of design, structure, and institutional coordination.
His position here resonates with a recent directive by President Bola Tinubu, mandating the withdrawal of policemen from guarding private individuals and VIPs.
Benson did not shy away from discussing governance, even at the local level. Drawing on the reflections of the late Chief of Army Staff, Lt. Gen. Taoreed Abiodun Lagbaja, who argued that the collapse of local government administration has left communities without functional authority, even when territories are threatened by insurgents.
“Our troops fight every day to secure territories and after securing those territories, they do not have anybody to hand them over to,” Benson quoted Lagbaja as once saying.
In his analysis, the absence of competent local administration is more than a bureaucratic problem. It is a security challenge. Without functional local governments, military victories are temporary, as according to him, criminal groups quickly return to exploit administrative vacuums.
Benson cited examples from other countries to illustrate how strong local governance can act as a deterrent, emphasising that security is as much about administration and opportunity as it is about guns and soldiers.
Perhaps most strikingly, Benson highlighted the unexpected intercentres between economic policy and security outcomes.
He pointed to the cashless policy era, during which kidnappings reportedly decreased because the ability to pay ransoms was discharacterising a rare and revealing example, prioritising interventions in the financial regulation sector can produce unintended security benefits, underscoring the importance of cross-sector thinking in national policy.
This also highlights the role of ransom payment as an unintended tool that sustains the challenge of kidnapping and hostage taking.
Benson grounded much of his argument in research. He cited studies showing that 80 per cent of terrorist attacks in Nigeria occur in schools, religious centres and farms.
Obviously, this data informed his call for targeted risk assessments across local government areas, categorising sites by vulnerability and prioritising protection for the most at-risk locations.
By integrating research into policy discourse, Benson offered a concrete pathway for translating insight into action, a move that departs from the usual political posturing which often characterises parliamentary debates.
Throughout his speech, Benson outlined reforms designed to address both immediate and structural causes of insecurity. He called for the restoration of the police as the first line of internal defence, modernisation of the military with updated technology, integrated and biometric-enabled border security, as well as the revival of local governance structures to empower communities and ensure accountability.
Yet he repeatedly stressed that security is not achieved solely through force. “Though a bullet can overcome a terrorist,” he noted, “only good governance, opportunity, and inclusion can overcome terrorism.”
This is a crucial distinction, one that positions security as a multidimensional challenge requiring intelligence, administration, community engagement and social infrastructure.
Impressively, Benson closed his address with a sober reflection on the stakes of inaction, saying, “Security is the foundation of development. Without peace, there can be no investment. Without investment, no prosperity. Without prosperity, no stability. And without stability, no future.”
These words, delivered on the floor of the House, are both a warning and a call to action. They remind the nation that security is not a peripheral concern but the bedrock upon which all progress depends.
For Nigeria, the roadmap is clear. What remains to be seen is whether policymakers, security agencies and citizens will summon the political will, institutional courage and civic discipline required to act decisively.
Benson’s speech, with its historical perspective, structural analysis and practical proposals, provides a rare moment of clarity, a blueprint for understanding the complexities of insecurity and navigating a path toward sustainable solutions.
Unarguably, in a time when discussions of insecurity are often dominated by blame and reactive rhetoric, Benson’s speech stands out for its courage, honesty, and analytical depth.
By linking historical decisions, regional dynamics, governance failures and research-backed strategies, he reframes the national debate.
It is now up to Nigeria’s leaders and citizens to translate this insight into action. If they succeed, the day may be remembered as the moment when an unassuming lawmaker from Ikorodu helped the nation finally see the full picture and chart a path toward a future where safety, stability and prosperity are no longer far off.
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