Nigeria’s positioning on the Global Peace Index (GPI) presents profound concerns for national development. It is a stark indicator of the country’s ongoing security challenges. Consistently ranking Nigeria among the least peaceful nations globally creates significant reputational damage. This has far-reaching implications: it discourages foreign investment, undermines tourism, and complicates economic planning, all of which are vital for sustainable national development.
The consequences are not merely reputational; they translate into lost opportunities for job creation, infrastructure growth, and poverty reduction. In an interconnected world, a nation’s security profile shapes its global partnerships and its citizens’ prospects. For Nigeria, improving peace and security is not just a moral imperative but an economic necessity.
Yet, the roots of Nigeria’s security dilemma are complex. The country’s vast geography, diverse population, and porous borders create a uniquely challenging environment for law enforcement and military agencies. Despite significant investments in security, the military and paramilitary forces remain overstretched.
The unpredictable nature of attacks — ranging from terrorism and banditry to communal clashes — means that no single agency, however well-resourced, can be everywhere at once. Increasingly, there are calls for local communities to serve as the first line of defence, complementing formal security structures with local vigilance and resilience. Though this approach may appear as strategic rethink, it may not appear as if enough rigour has gone into the thinking.
Giving the calibre of those making the calls, the shift is not merely rhetorical. Security chiefs have repeatedly emphasised the necessity of strong community involvement. In February 2025, the Director-General of the Department of State Services (DSS), Tosin Ajayi, recounted the experience of the Azare community in Bauchi State. When Boko Haram insurgents attacked, the community organised itself, repelled the attackers, and, crucially, has not suffered another such incident since. Similar stories from Tafawa Balewa, where locals seized weapons from assailants, underscore the potential of community-led defence initiatives to deter criminal elements and restore a sense of safety.
The rationale behind this approach is clear: communities possess intimate knowledge of their environments, enabling rapid response and intelligence gathering. When empowered, they can serve as force multipliers, extending the reach of formal security agencies. However, this expectation is not without controversy. Critics argue that asking civilians to confront armed attackers is both risky and a tacit admission of institutional failure. The call for self-defence, echoed by officials such as former Defence Minister Bashir Magashi and General TY Danjuma, has sparked debate about the proper balance between state responsibility and citizen participation.
Nevertheless, the idea of community-led security is not unique to Nigeria, though some view it as inherently flawed. Across Africa and beyond, there are instructive examples of how community-oriented approaches can enhance safety and build trust between citizens and authorities. In South Africa, the Zwelethemba model of community peace committees has demonstrated success in mediating disputes and reducing violence through local ownership and accountability. Kenya’s Nyumba Kumi initiative, which organises clusters of households for mutual surveillance and support, has improved crime prevention and fostered stronger police-community relations.
In West Africa, Côte d’Ivoire’s experience with vigilance committees in Abidjan illustrates both the potential and pitfalls of community-based security. These groups, when closely supervised and integrated with formal policing, have helped restore order in high-crime neighbourhoods. However, without proper oversight, they risk devolving into sources of abuse or being co-opted for political purposes. The lesson is clear: community security initiatives must be anchored in transparency, accountability, and strong partnerships with law enforcement.
However, the risks of vigilantism, human rights abuses, and the politicisation of community groups must not be underestimated. Effective community security requires clear legal frameworks, training, and ongoing support from professional agencies. It also demands mechanisms for civilian oversight to prevent the misuse of power and ensure that these groups serve the common good. The example of Abidjan’s ethics advisory boards, which bring together police and community stakeholders to discuss security issues, offers a model for how such oversight can be institutionalised.
Moreover, community security should not be seen as a substitute for state responsibility. The government must continue to invest in professionalising the police, strengthening intelligence capabilities, and addressing the root causes of insecurity. Community involvement should be part of a broader strategy that integrates early warning systems, conflict mediation, and targeted development interventions.
The call for communities to become Nigeria’s first line of defence is not a cure-all solution; it may not be a passing illusion, either. It can be regarded as a pragmatic response to the realities on the ground. However, its success depends on careful design, sustained support, and rigorous oversight. Nigeria can draw on both domestic and international examples to build a model of community security that is inclusive, accountable, and effective.
Policymakers should prioritise frameworks that empower communities while safeguarding against abuse, invest in training and resources, and foster genuine partnerships between citizens and the state. With these measures, community-led security can become a cornerstone of Nigeria’s quest for peace and development, transforming vulnerability into resilience and restoring hope for a safer future.
Join BusinessDay whatsapp Channel, to stay up to date
Open In Whatsapp