AS the world marks the International Day for the Prevention of Violent Extremism on February 12, Nigeria has no cause for ceremonial speeches. The country is bleeding in real time. Therefore, technology must be deployed to stanch the flow.
Schoolchildren now understand, far too early, that classrooms and dormitories are no longer safe spaces. They know they could be kidnapped en masse and marched into forests, forced to relive the horrors of Chibok in 2014 and Dapchi in 2018.
In November, hundreds of pupils were abducted from schools in Kebbi and Niger states. Though they were later released, the scars of that trauma will linger for life.
Commuters know that a routine journey can end in death or in a kidnapper’s den. Worshippers no longer see their churches or mosques as sanctuaries. Even the home has become a trap.
On February 8, armed men invaded a Catholic church in the Utonkon district of Benue State during a vigil and abducted at least nine worshippers.
Two days earlier, at least 13 traders were gunned down in a market in Anwase, Kwande LGA. According to local officials, the attackers opened fire randomly, leaving families searching for missing loved ones and entire communities traumatised.
February 3 was even darker. Armed men killed 17 people, including a police officer, in another Benue community.
On the same day, gunmen stormed Woro and a neighbouring town in Kwara State, massacring about 200 people. Some victims reportedly had their hands tied behind their backs before being slaughtered.
Also on that day, bandits went house to house in Doma, Katsina State, killing 21 people, barely weeks after a so-called peace deal that proved as hollow as many before it.
While the North-East has long borne the brunt of Boko Haram and its splinter groups, the violence is no longer confined to the region.
The assailants are moving southward, killing forest rangers in southwestern Oyo State and spreading fear across regions once considered relatively safe.
The Oodua People’s Congress has now called for a state of emergency in the South-West—a measure that would have been unthinkable a few years ago.
The consequences are devastating. Farmers flee their land or pay crushing illegal taxes to non-state actors. Schools shut down. Food insecurity deepens. Communities unravel.
Boko Haram, ISWAP and sundry armed groups continue to thrive, making life unbearable for Nigerians, while the state appears overwhelmed, reactive, and at times complicit. This must change.
Instead, officials confer chieftaincy titles, issue pardons, and negotiate peace deals with killers whose objectives are clear: a caliphate, territorial control, or ransom. None of these gestures has stopped the bloodshed, to which officials routinely respond with condemnations and hollow assurances.
This is where Nigeria must confront an uncomfortable truth: good intentions without capability are meaningless. Condemnations and promises without innovation save no lives.
Technology can be a game changer—but only if matched with political will.
Drones, for instance, should no longer be discussed as futuristic possibilities. They are essential tools in the fight against extreme violence.
Boko Haram and ISWAP already deploy drones to monitor troop movements and, in some cases, to carry out attacks. Nigeria cannot afford to fight a 21st-century war with 19th-century tools.
Properly deployed, surveillance drones can identify bandit camps, track movements before attacks are launched, and provide real-time intelligence to security forces. They can also help monitor Nigeria’s vast, poorly policed borders, spotting the movement of fighters, arms and illicit goods that fuel the violence.
State governments need not wait for Abuja. They must collaborate, pool resources, and jointly invest in locally built drone technology, sharing intelligence across state lines in real time. In a country where criminals operate seamlessly across borders, security responses must be just as fluid.
Nigeria should consolidate and expand partnerships with countries experienced in using technology to counter insurgency.
The United States is one such partner, but it should not be the only one. Israel, too, could help—if asked.
Training, intelligence-sharing, and access to advanced surveillance systems must be prioritised, not treated as diplomatic afterthoughts.
None of this will work, however, without hands-on and committed leadership. Technology cannot compensate for a lack of accountability, discipline and resolve. It cannot thrive in an environment where criminals are appeased and victims forgotten.
On this Day for the Prevention of Violent Extremism, Nigeria must move beyond rhetoric. The question is no longer whether technology can help. It is whether the leaders are willing to use it to stop the bleeding—or whether they will continue to preside over a country where violence is normalised, and survival is a daily gamble.
Beyond the killings, violent extremism tramples other fundamental rights: the right to education, worship and free movement. Technology—properly deployed—can tame the terrorists and restore those rights.
Nigeria can do it.
What is missing is the courage to.
