By Sir Ifeanyi Ejiofor, Esq., KSC I Wednesday, Sept 15, 2026
LAGOS, Nigeria – The debate over establishing state police in Nigeria has persisted for years, gaining renewed momentum as the nation inches toward a more decentralized security architecture. The core argument for state police remains compelling: policing is inherently more effective when those tasked with maintaining order understand the local terrain, culture, people, and unique security challenges.
My concern is not with the legitimate objective of strengthening public safety. It centers on what happens when a publicly funded security apparatus is weaponized into a private instrument for settling personal scores, intimidating opponents, pursuing vendetta, or carrying out assignments that standard law enforcement would rightly reject
Yet, another side to this debate deserves far greater scrutiny. The primary danger may not stem directly from state governors, but from those operating in the shadows of power—political brokers, financiers, associates, and influential individuals who view themselves as too close to government to face scrutiny, accountability, or restraint.
Herein lies the real cause for concern. The most unsettling question is not merely whether a governor will abuse state police, but a far more troubling one: What happens when individuals who wield informal influence over state power acquire control over a security apparatus funded by public resources?
That is where the architecture of state policing becomes dangerously vulnerable.
Anambra State offers a pertinent case study. Under the Anambra State Homeland Security Law 2025, the state established a framework featuring Agụnechemba and Operation Udo Ga-Achị, designed to complement conventional federal security agencies. On paper, the mandate is noble, security-driven, and focused on combating criminality to protect communities.
However, even the most well-intentioned law produces disturbing outcomes when its instruments are diverted from their statutory purpose.
My concern is not with the legitimate objective of strengthening public safety. It centers on what happens when a publicly funded security apparatus is weaponized into a private instrument for settling personal scores, intimidating opponents, pursuing vendetta, or carrying out assignments that standard law enforcement would rightly reject.
When a security operative acts on the directives of a private individual rather than within the boundaries of the law, they cease to perform a public function. Instead, they become an instrument of private power wearing the uniform of state authority.
A governor, preoccupied with the heavy burdens of state administration, may reasonably assume that local security forces operate within legal boundaries under proper oversight.
Yet, if influential figures around government begin exercising informal command over these units, the statutory safeguards surrounding the state’s coercive power erode rapidly.
The public is then confronted with a dangerous paradox: government security without governmental accountability.
What could be more absurd than a system where a citizen cannot discern whether an armed officer is executing lawful authority or merely serving the whims of an influential figure with the right phone number?
This danger is far from theoretical. Public concerns have already mounted over alleged abuses involving state-backed security structures in Anambra, including unlawful arrests, brutality, and the deployment of operatives in private disputes.
If Nigeria ultimately completes the transition to state policing, statutory safeguards must extend beyond preventing governors from harassing political rivals. The framework must actively neutralize the subtle danger of powerful proxies turning public security into personal fiefdoms.
Most importantly, no individual—regardless of wealth, political clout, or proximity to power—should command an informal security outfit. Public security must remain strictly public. A security uniform must never become a badge of private authority, nor should a government vehicle serve as a mobile tool for personal vengeance.
Otherwise, we risk waking up to a tragic irony: creating state police to bring security closer to the people, only to bring the machinery of coercion closer to the powerful.
The ultimate test of a state police force will not be how efficiently it arrests criminals, but how fearlessly it resists unlawful commands from influential figures. If security personnel fear the powerful person behind them more than the law before them, we have not decentralized policing—we have merely decentralized impunity.
In subsequent publications, I will closely examine specific developments within Anambra State, including my home community of Oraifite. My goal is not to undermine legitimate security efforts, but to insist that every institution backed by public authority remains subject to the rule of law.
Ultimately, the true measure of a security institution is not the fear it inspires, but the public confidence it commands. Any security architecture that shields the powerful while terrorizing the powerless has already lost its core purpose.
About the Author:
Sir Ifeanyi Ejiofor, Esq., KSC (Dunu-Ezeugosinachi), is a legal practitioner and lead counsel to the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB).
