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From Adesuwa Tsan, Abuja
When Senator Yahaya Abdullahi, who represents Kebbi North in the Senate, rose to speak in plenary on the abduction of 25 schoolgirls from Government Girls’ Comprehensive Secondary School in Maga, Kebbi State, his tone carried a familiarity Nigerians have heard many times before.
The details were horrifying: terrorists invading a school in a community with a small police presence, killing the vice-principal, wounding the principal and disappearing with young girls whose families were helpless. Yet, his outrage, his plea, the urgency of his words gave a sense of déjà vu, a feeling of watching an all too familiar scene that has played out in the Senate many times for more than a decade.
It was a scene Nigerians know well: a tragedy unfolding in the North-West or North-East, a Senate motion raised under urgent national importance, lawmakers condemning, government urged, security agencies admonished, committees formed, prayers adopted, a minute of silence observed. Then life moves on. Until the next tragedy.
This latest attack in Kebbi State, therefore, seems like the upper chamber performing another outrage without moving to change the outcomes.
The unending cycle of condemnations
Across administrations, one thing has remained unchanged: the Senate’s reaction to mass killings and abductions. Whether under President Jonathan, President Buhari or President Tinubu, motions have been raised after every major attack, whether it is Chibok in 2014, Dapchi in 2018, Kankara in 2020, Jangebe in 2021, Birnin Yauri in 2021 or several others.
The Senate’s template has hardly shifted. A senator brings an urgent motion. Colleagues express anger, sorrow, and empathy. They condemn the attack and insist the government must act. Sometimes the senate commends the president or the military; other times they criticise coordination failures. But the general choreography has remained the same.
This sameness, this ritual, is part of the political theatre Nigerians have begun to question. Every time, the chamber sounds the alarm, then silence then another high-profile tragedy occurs. Speaking on the incident as raised in Sen. Abdullahi’s motion, Senators Munguno, Fadahunsi, Ekpeyong, and Musa all echoed sentiments that Nigerians have heard during previous crises – outrage mixed with helplessness; empathy blended with political defensiveness, calls for decisive action, demands for improved security coordination and reflections on the state’s failure to protect citizens. Senator Fadahunsi lamented growing normalisation of insecurity. Senator Ekpeyong spoke about how children are increasingly unsafe even in institutions designed for learning. Senator Musa added that the military is simply too small to police a nation of 230 million people. Their contributions were sincere, but not unprecedented. The senate has always spoken when blood has been spilled.
But the central question remains: Is speaking enough, and does the senate itself realise it is often repeating itself? The motion’s prayers attempted to push towards more substantive moves. This time, the chamber sought to go beyond condemnation, but cautiously, and within the limits of political comfort. They were careful to stress that President Bola Tinubu has not failed in ensuring that the primary function of government to secure the lives, even young lives, of its citizens, is performed effectively.
Something new – proposed recruitment of additional security personnel
The senate, in the motion, urged the president to recruit “at least 100,000” new military personnel to boost internal security. This was arguably the boldest call in the debate. The proposal raised by Senator Adams Oshiomhole acknowledged a truth long known but seldom stated plainly during plenary: Nigeria’s military is too small for its security challenges. With endless forests, porous borders and rural communities vulnerable to bandits, terrorists and ethnic militias, the armed forces are overwhelmed. This recommendation shows a willingness to propose solutions that require serious executive commitment. Yet even this carries limitations.
The senate cannot compel military recruitment. It can only urge it. No accompanying legislative instrument was proposed to alter the defence budget or mandate recruitment levels. No timeline was attached. And no enforcement mechanism exists to ensure the executive acts. The symbolism is powerful, but without legislative teeth, it becomes another politically safe suggestion rather than a decisive move for change.
An investigation that could matter—or fade away
Perhaps the most consequential action taken was the decision to investigate the Safe School Programme. Launched in the wake of the Chibok kidnappings in 2014, the programme has received billions of naira from national budgets and donor agencies. Yet, Nigerian schools remain dangerously vulnerable. The revelation that the programme was housed under the Ministry of Finance, rather than the Ministry of Education, where it logically belongs, exposed bureaucratic dysfunction that has long undermined counter-kidnapping efforts.
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On this topic, senators questioned financial management. They challenged ministerial oversight. They insisted on creating an ad hoc committee combining Finance, Defence, Army, Navy and Education to pursue a multi-dimensional inquiry. But Nigerians have seen parliamentary investigations open with fanfare and end quietly, without findings, reforms, or consequences. Fuel subsidy probes, arms procurement investigations, IDP camp audits all began with promise but rarely led to institutional change. If this committee merely highlights problems without enforcing solutions, it will join the long list of Senate interventions buried in archives.
A senate still tethered to the executive
One theme emerging from the debates is a consistent belief that Nigeria’s security problems begin and end with the executive arm. Senators often speak as if their role is mainly to lament, advise and request action from the president, service chiefs, and security agencies.
But the legislature has far more power than it uses.It can amend laws, restructure agencies, enforce intelligence-sharing mechanisms and create new security institutions. It can legislate standards for school protection. It can refuse to approve defence budgets lacking transparency. It can summon security chiefs and go further to demand sanctions for their failures. It can initiate constitutional reform for state policing – something many senators hint at privately but seldom champion publicly.
The senate’s reluctance to assert its full powers reflects political calculations. Security reforms are among the most politically risky interventions in Nigeria. They challenge vested interests, expose budget racketeering and antagonise powerful actors inside and outside government. In moments like the Kebbi abduction debate, the senate appears caught between the desire to act and the instinct for political self-preservation.
Between Outrage and Impact
The Senate has always been consistent in expressing shock, empathy and anger when Nigerians are killed or kidnapped. What it has not been consistent in is action that survives the news cycle. In moments of emotional crisis, lawmakers are quick to propose motions and commendations. But structural reforms require political stamina, the kind that lasts months or years, not hours on the chamber floor.
The Kebbi debate reveals a senate willing to push slightly harder than usual, but not yet ready to confront the root causes of insecurity with the ferocity the moment demands. There is recognition of systemic failure, but no systemic legislative blueprint.
There is frustration with poor coordination, but no bill mandating joint operations. There is criticism of ineffective programmes, but no overhaul of the frameworks governing them. There is acknowledgement of military overstretch, but no accompanying effort to restructure national security architecture.
The senate, as it stands, is a chamber that understands the crisis. Hopefully, its upcoming security summit will come up with ideas that can resolve it. Parliamentary speeches and motions belong to the politics of performance: they demonstrate empathy, convey seriousness, and reassure the public that the legislature is paying attention but Nigerians are wary. There is increasing demand for a shift from politics of debate to politics of results: actions that transform systems, tighten accountability and reduce the frequency of terror attacks. Without a shift toward deeper legislative intervention, the country risks replaying the same tragedy under different dates and locations.
A country running out of time
The senate president’s closing remarks acknowledged a painful truth: the Nigerian state is struggling to defend itself. But he also framed the senate’s role narrowly, emphasising its function to make laws, pass motions and offer guidance. The implication was clear; the chamber sees itself as part of the solution, but not the engine of the solution.
Yet, Nigeria is running out of time for incremental responses. The abduction of schoolgirls is not simply a criminal act; it is an attack on the state’s legitimacy. Each incident chips away at citizens’ trust. Each unresolved kidnapping, every attack by terrorists signal to armed groups that the state is weak. Each security failure deepens the crisis of governance.
The senate cannot solve insecurity alone. But it also cannot continue to treat its responsibility as secondary. If this latest incident is to mark a turning point, the investigation into the Safe School Programme must be thorough, transparent and conclusive. The call for military recruitment must be followed by legislative frameworks. The senate must be willing to use its constitutional power to reshape security governance.
