By Muazu Elazeh

In December 2025, members of the Northern Governors’ Forum met in Kaduna and decided to establish the Northern States Security Trust Fund, with each of the 19 northern states expected to contribute N1 billion per month. The idea, at least on paper, was simple: pool resources to address the seemingly endless wave of insecurity driven by banditry, kidnapping for ransom, cattle rustling, and other violent crimes that have become part of daily life across the region.

Almost five months after the governors’ meeting and considering the disgraceful and worsening level of insecurity, particularly in states like Plateau, Kaduna, Benue, Katsina, Kebbi, and Niger, where many were killed or abducted during the Easter celebrations, there is simply no justification for any delay in implementing the Trust Fund.

Whether the initiative will have a significant impact, given the entrenched culture of waste and mismanagement that has long characterised governance in this country, especially under the current leadership, is, however, a different matter altogether.

Some facts are irrefutable. Increasingly, the federal government’s assurances on addressing insecurity seem hollow. With each passing day, it becomes clearer that the central government, which controls all security agencies, is either overwhelmed by the scale of the crisis, unprepared to respond decisively, or, more troublingly, indifferent to the relentless killings that have now become routine.

For the people of the North, the situation is particularly dire, a cruel double burden. This is a region with the largest population and landmass in the country, yet it remains the poorest by most measures. It has the highest number of out-of-school children. It trails other regions in virtually all key development indices. And, tragically, it is also the epicentre of recurring killings and mass abductions.

In the days leading up to and during the Easter celebrations, reports emerged of large-scale killings across northern Nigeria. In Benue State, bandits attacked communities, unleashing violence. In Plateau State, gunmen struck during Palm Sunday in Unguwan Rukuba, Jos, leaving many dead. In Kebbi State, Lakurawa militants carried out what observers described as coordinated attacks on several communities. In Katsina State, bandits stormed Sayaya community in Matazu Local Government Area, attacking a police station and a health centre, killing officers and civilians alike. In Niger State, some communities were razed, with residents killed or abducted in brutal assaults.

As if that were not enough, the violence has persisted relentlessly. On Tuesday this week, attackers once again struck in Niger State, targeting the Baga community in Erena, within Shiroro Local Government Area, setting homes and shops aflame and forcing residents to flee for their lives. A friend living in Minna, whose parents are based in Erena community, called to say that the parents are stranded in a bush at an unknown location after fleeing the bandits.

The pattern is now painfully familiar. Armed groups invade vulnerable communities, set houses ablaze, kill indiscriminately, and drive survivors into displacement. It is a cycle that repeats itself with alarming regularity.

Killings, mass displacement, and abductions are no longer shocking. They are becoming normalised. Entire communities are routinely abandoned as residents leave their ancestral homes in search of safety. Each day begins with grim reports of new attacks. Lives are lost, there is a brief moment of mourning, and then the nation moves on, almost as if nothing has happened. Meanwhile, governors continue to receive and deploy large security votes. Billions of naira are allocated to security, yet in reality, no one feels truly secure.

Regrettably, even as communities are being destroyed and lives upended, the political class seems more focused on electoral calculations. Across the North, discussions are largely centred on the 2027 elections.

If not for this overwhelming fixation on 2027, one wonders why a state like Kebbi would see its governor prioritising political promises, such as pledging to deliver the state to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu in his expected re-election bid, while groups like Lakurawa and the emerging Mamudawa sect continue to terrorise local communities.

In Zamfara, a state that has experienced some of the most horrific atrocities, the change in political stance is equally revealing. A governor who was once outspoken in condemning the troubling level of insecurity and accusing the federal government of negligence, or worse, has now aligned with the ruling APC and become noticeably silent.

Across the nineteen northern states, except for Bauchi, where the governor appears caught between aligning with the opposition ADC or defecting to the ruling APC, the political landscape is largely dominated by one party, the APC. However, rather than a coordinated and forceful response to insecurity, the dominant discourse from government houses centres on electoral strategy, alliances, and succession politics, even as the region teeters on the brink.

This raises a fundamental question: should a region engulfed in persistent killings, where communities are routinely razed and citizens forced into displacement, be primarily consumed by electoral politics? Elections matter, no doubt; indeed, many of today’s challenges are rooted in leadership failures. But before anything else, the North must urgently confront the immediate reality before it, the relentless and intractable bloodshed that threatens its very existence.

Now more than ever, it is time for the governors of the nineteen northern states to move beyond rhetoric and act together. The scale of the crisis demands unity, urgency, and decisive leadership. Before their very eyes, the region is steadily unravelling. The question they must face is simple but profound: what legacy do they intend to leave behind? How will history remember their stewardship at a time like this?

A logical starting point would be a genuine commitment to implementing the proposed security framework, beginning with the immediate funding and activation of the Security Trust Fund. The current crop of northern governors stands at a defining moment in history. It is difficult to recall a time when the situation was this dire.

This raises questions. Will the Security Trust Fund make a real difference? What exactly is responsible for the delay in implementing it? From December 2025 to April 2026, if the governors had honoured their pledge, the fund should now contain roughly N57 billion. So, where is the Security Trust Fund?

—Elazeh is the GMD of LEADERSHIP Newspaper. He can be reached via:richmuaz@gmail.com