Nigeria’s Insecurity Crisis Is Bigger Than Military Awards 

The Nigerian Army has been named Africa’s Best National Army in Counter-Terrorism Operations for 2025 by African Security Watch, in recognition of what the organisation described as its operational achievements, strategic leadership and commitment to combating terrorism and violent extremism. According to the Acting Director of Army Public Relations, Colonel Appolonia Anele, the award reflects the Nigerian Army’s emergence as Africa’s leading force in counter-terrorism and counter-insurgency operations.

The recognition comes only days after President Donald Trump commended President Bola Tinubu’s handling of insecurity in a letter released by the Nigerian presidency. In the letter, Trump praised Tinubu’s “decisive leadership” and his efforts to address violence affecting Christian communities. Unsurprisingly, the Tinubu administration has seized on both developments as evidence that its security strategy is yielding results.

If there is one thing this administration understands, it is the value of a good headline. International praise, awards and glowing statements all make for compelling political messaging. But they are not, on their own, evidence that Nigeria’s security crisis is being brought under control.

For ordinary Nigerians, security is measured much more simply. Can people travel without fear of being kidnapped? Can farmers safely return to their farms? Can children go to school without wondering whether they will make it home? Can communities live without the constant threat of attack?

These are the benchmarks that matter, and by those measures, Nigeria still has a long way to go.

This is not an argument against recognising the Nigerian Army. Soldiers have continued to fight on multiple fronts under extraordinarily difficult circumstances, and operational successes should be acknowledged. The problem is that Nigeria’s insecurity crisis has evolved into something far larger than a conventional military campaign. Recent developments illustrate just how complicated the challenge has become.

Authorities recently uncovered what they described as Nigeria’s largest-ever methamphetamine production laboratory hidden inside a forest outside Lagos. Three Mexican nationals and seven Nigerians are currently standing trial over the operation, which allegedly produced more than two tonnes of methamphetamine worth roughly $360 million. Intelligence from US Africa Command has linked a growing number of similar laboratories across Africa—including several in Nigeria—to major Mexican drug cartels such as the Sinaloa Cartel and the Jalisco New Generation Cartel.

The discovery is significant because it shows that organised criminal networks increasingly view Nigeria not merely as a transit point for illicit drugs, but as a manufacturing base. The country’s security challenges are no longer confined to insurgents and armed groups; they now include sophisticated transnational criminal organisations capable of exploiting weak governance, porous borders and local collaborators.

The same applies to Nigeria’s illegal mining sector. A growing body of research suggests that politically connected sponsors of illegal mining work alongside bandits to seize control of gold-rich communities across the North West. Analysts argue that these networks finance banditry and cattle rustling to drive residents from mining areas, allowing illegal extraction to continue with minimal resistance. Rather than existing as separate security problems, organised crime, resource exploitation, and armed violence increasingly reinforce one another, creating a cycle that military operations alone cannot break.

Meanwhile, kidnapping remains one of the country’s most persistent security failures. While the victims recently abducted in Oyo State did eventually return home, many of the students and teachers kidnapped from Government Day Secondary School in Lassa, Borno State around the same period remain missing despite reports that a handful have been rescued. Similar mass abductions continue to occur across Zamfara, Katsina, Niger, and other northern states, becoming so frequent that they often disappear from public attention within days.

These developments paint a picture that is far more complicated than the narrative suggested by awards or diplomatic praise. Terrorism remains a threat, but it now intersects with organised crime, international drug syndicates, illegal mining, kidnapping and local political economies that sustain violence. Success against one aspect of the crisis does not necessarily translate into meaningful improvements across the wider security landscape.

That is why celebrating military recognition, while understandable, should not become an excuse for declaring victory. National security is not measured by commendations from foreign leaders or trophies presented at international conferences —it is measured by whether citizens feel safer in their daily lives.

The Nigerian Army may well deserve its recognition. But until Nigerians can move freely, farm without fear, send their children to school in confidence and live without the constant threat of violence, the country’s insecurity crisis remains far from resolved. Awards may recognise progress, but they cannot substitute for it.