OPINION: The Price of Neglect: How Social Injustice Fuels Insecurity in Nigeria.
By: Aishatu Kabu.
Nigeria’s insecurity did not start overnight. It is the product of years of neglect, years of irresponsible governance, and years of failure to do right by those whose major responsibility is the protection of lives and welfare of citizens.
Social and economic injustice is a key driver of complex conflicts because when communities are neglected, they stop feeling government. When citizens don’t know where they are heading, when their civic rights are ignored, frustration grows.
In Nigeria, the only time many villages feel government is during elections – when ballot boxes are carried on their heads across bad roads. After voting? Silence. No roads. No clinics. No light. No explanation.
When government only appears to take votes but never returns to deliver, that alone can drive people to conflict. Exclusion breeds anger. Neglect breeds resistance.
The current state of insecurity in Nigeria was built slowly, one ignored community at a time.
Another layer of this neglect is our traditional institutions. For years, the constitution gave them no proper place in governance. Without formal constitutional recognition, traditional institutions often lack clearly defined roles in conflict prevention and local governance, despite being the first point of contact for many communities. Yet these are the institutions closest to the people – the ones who understand local conflicts, settle disputes, and hold communities together. By sidelining them, we cut off government from the grassroots and left a vacuum that insecurity filled.
And then there’s the hardest question: Why do security agencies always say “community residents are informants” for terrorists? Do you ever wonder why a citizen being terrorized would choose to comply with them, not only that, but even believe them more than government? Is it fear? Is it anger? Or is it because terrorists are offering what government never offered – food, money, protection, a sense of belonging?
When the state is absent for 10 years, when your child has no school, no clinic, no light, but someone in the bush brings rice and cash, loyalty shifts. Not because people love terror. But because people survive.
That is the cost of social and economic injustice. When government fails at the grassroots, someone else will fill that space. That’s why some communities end up choosing their killers because the state failed them first.
The barrier is structural, not legal. On paper, local governments have constitutional autonomy. In practice, many are micromanaged through the State-Local Government Joint Account. So while the money belongs to the village, spending decisions are controlled far from the village. Same constitution. Same rights. Different access to self-determination. That is injustice.
In Nigeria, while those of us residing in cities debate and catch cruise on Band A and Band B, there’s a village today where children still read by candlelight in 2026. Another where a pregnant woman loses her baby because the road to the clinic doesn’t exist. Some LGAs waited over 10 years after insurgency before their secondary healthcare facility was rebuilt. Some have had no electricity since 2014. Many still have no water, no network, no access road. Where is the justice here?
Yet the flyovers and big projects we celebrate in state capitals are funded by money from every LGA. The farmer, the trader, the youth in the village – their money is in that budget too. While infrastructure in state capitals is important, development should not come at the expense of rural communities that remain without basic services. But while the city gets light, the village gets darkness.
People at the grassroots are human too. Their children deserve healthcare. All residents deserve roads. Our youths deserve light. Our traditional institutions deserve recognition. Same rights, same Nigeria.
The hard truth we don’t want to hear is this: for those vacuums to be filled, for Nigerians at the grassroots to feel governance, we must let local governments be autonomous – not only on paper but in practice. LGs should be able to define their priorities and what they need as a community, not governors deciding what they should get.
LG autonomy is not about fighting state governments. It is about social and economic justice. It is about putting governance, resources, and accountability back in the hands of the people who understand the terrain. It is the only way to win back trust, cut off terrorists from their informants, and ensure every Nigerian can feel the impact of their own resources.
Until the grassroots feels government, Nigeria will keep fighting shadows.
Justice begins at the grassroots. LG autonomy is that bridge.
Aishatu Kabu
Write from Maiduguri
26/6/2026
