Olu Allen
The image is striking: Sheikh Ahmad Gumi, cleric-turned-mediator, addressing the press, not to condemn those who kidnap, murder, and terrorize communities, but to rebuke a foreign power.
After the United States designated Nigeria a “Country of Particular Concern” (CPC) for religious freedom violations, Gumi responded with fiery nationalist rhetoric, warning Washington to stay within its lane and respect Nigeria’s internal affairs.
Yet the irony is impossible to ignore. The very syndicate of banditry he advocates amnesty for is the strongest evidence the world cites when arguing that Nigeria’s sovereignty is eroding.
A state that cannot protect the lives and livelihoods of its citizens in large portions of its territory is not defending its sovereignty; it is losing it, gradually and violently, to armed groups who now dictate the terms of survival in the forests and farmlands of the North West.
What, then, should Nigeria do with figures like Sheikh Gumi? Reducing him to a bandit sympathizer misses the point of his utility to a desperate population.
Calling for his arrest, as some have done, only signals a government still reacting rather than thinking strategically. Neither path offers a sustainable solution.
Gumi thrives because he fills a vacuum. His relevance is a direct consequence of the state’s profound failure to maintain its monopoly over security and justice.
When government presence is thin, inconsistent, or appears only through heavy-handed force that punishes the innocent and the culpable alike, intermediaries emerge. He merely stepped into the empty space of trust and communication the state left behind.
But this arrangement cannot continue. Nigeria cannot allow national security to be shaped by freelance negotiators whose loyalties and methodologies remain outside state scrutiny.
The task before the government is not to silence Gumi, but to render him irrelevant by restoring state capacity and presence.
First, we must call the current “amnesty or war” debate what it truly is: a dangerous and false choice.
Nations confronting insurgency and organized violence rarely choose between unconditional destruction and unconditional forgiveness. A serious country adopts a dual-track strategy.
One track targets the irredeemable, through precise, intelligence-driven operations aimed at dismantling the command-and-control structures and leadership of these criminal networks.
This is the principle of decisive force. The other track offers a structured, transparent pathway for lower-level members to exit the cycle of violence.
This is not blanket amnesty. It is a conditional deradicalization and reintegration process tied to disarmament, confession, and accountability. It is transitional justice with a practical eye on stability, not a shortcut around it.
Second, Nigeria must institutionalize mediation. If intermediaries are needed, they cannot operate as lone actors conducting private diplomacy that risks incentivizing future abductions.
The government should create a formal framework: a multi-stakeholder committee involving security agencies, respected religious figures from all faiths, civil society leaders, and, critically, representatives of victim communities.
This body must define the rules of engagement that prioritize the authority of the state:
No political recognition for bandits.
No ransom payments from state coffers, and a crackdown on private facilitation.
A clear priority on rescuing kidnapped victims with minimal collateral damage.
With this, negotiations are stripped of personality and brought under state authority, transforming mediators from sovereign agents into government consultants.
Finally, Nigeria must reclaim the narrative, not through emotional declarations, but through competent action. Gumi’s rhetoric resonates because it taps into a deep well of post-colonial pride and suspicion of Western motives.
But sovereignty is not defended by shouting at foreign governments; it is defended by building internal capacity to secure the national space and dispense justice to all.
Instead of trading accusations with the United States, Nigeria should engage in structured dialogue, presenting a clear analysis of the crisis and requesting targeted assistance: intelligence sharing, specialized training, surveillance technology, and, critically, development support for the neglected regions where banditry takes root.
Sheikh Gumi is, ultimately, a mirror. He reflects our institutional weaknesses, our fragmented national response, and our search for easy answers. We can break the mirror, or we can study the reflection and finally confront the structural fractures it reveals.
Sovereignty is not proclaimed. It is demonstrated through competence, security, and a functioning justice system. Nigeria’s future depends on acting accordingly.
Allen is a public affairs analyst based in Kano. He writes on governance, security, and national development.
