By Abraham Victory

When more than forty schoolchildren were abducted during coordinated attacks on schools in Borno in May, Nigerians were reminded of one of the country’s darkest security nightmares: the return of large-scale school kidnappings.

Only weeks later, reports emerged of fresh bandit attacks in Zamfara, where farmers were killed while working on their farmlands. Across parts of Benue and the Middle Belt, communities continued to mourn victims of deadly attacks that left many families displaced and fearful about what tomorrow might bring.

For ordinary Nigerians, these incidents are no longer isolated headlines. They have become symbols of a broader security crisis that has persisted despite the presence of numerous security agencies and repeated government reforms.

It is against this backdrop that President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s creation of the office of Special Adviser on Homeland Security deserves serious public scrutiny.

The appointment has generated debate among security experts, policymakers, and citizens alike. Supporters argue that Nigeria’s growing internal security challenges require specialised attention. Critics worry that the country may be creating another layer of bureaucracy without addressing the real problem.

The question Nigerians should be asking is straightforward: Would another office have prevented these attacks?

The answer depends on how one understands Nigeria’s security challenge.

Take the recent school abductions. The issue was not the absence of security institutions. Nigeria already has the military, police, DSS, civil defence, intelligence agencies, and the Office of the National Security Adviser. The challenge was whether intelligence was gathered early enough, shared effectively, and acted upon before the attacks occurred.

The same question applies to the recurring attacks in Benue and the resurgence of bandit activities across the North-West. In many cases, local communities claim warning signs existed before attacks occurred. Yet security responses often arrived after lives had already been lost.

This suggests that Nigeria’s greatest security challenge may not be a shortage of institutions but a shortage of coordination.

The Office of the National Security Adviser was created precisely to address this problem. The NSA coordinates intelligence activities, advises the President on security matters, and facilitates cooperation among agencies. If Homeland Security is established as a parallel structure with overlapping responsibilities, the risk is that coordination problems could become even more complicated rather than less.

Who receives intelligence first? Who coordinates domestic threat responses? Who bears responsibility when security failures occur?

These questions matter because effective security management depends on clear authority and accountability.

None of this means Homeland Security is unnecessary. The recent wave of kidnappings, bandit attacks, and mass killings demonstrates that Nigeria’s internal security challenges require specialised attention. However, specialisation should strengthen coordination, not weaken it.

A Homeland Security structure can add value if it operates under the strategic framework of the National Security Adviser, focusing specifically on domestic threat management, emergency preparedness, critical infrastructure protection, and internal intelligence integration.

What Nigerians need today is not another competition among security institutions. They need a system capable of preventing the next school abduction, stopping the next bandit attack, and protecting the next vulnerable community before tragedy occurs.

The success of Homeland Security will therefore not be measured by the title of the office or the prestige of the appointment.

It will be measured by a far simpler standard: whether fewer children are kidnapped, fewer communities are attacked, and fewer Nigerians lose their lives to insecurity.

That is the question the government must answer, and it is the result Nigerians deserve.

Abraham Victory
Department of Development and Strategic Communication
200 Level
Abuja, Nigeria

By Abubakar Dangambo

Madinah Al-Munawwarah, the radiant city of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), occupies a unique place in the hearts of Muslims across the world. Located about 450 kilometers from Makkah, it is a city of peace, spirituality, and immense historical significance. For millions of believers, visiting Madinah is not merely a journey; it is the fulfillment of a lifelong dream.

Unlike many great cities of the world that are known for their skyscrapers, industries, or commercial activities, Madinah is known for something far more precious—tranquility. The moment a visitor enters the city, he is greeted by an atmosphere of calmness and serenity that is difficult to describe in words. The city seems to embrace every visitor with a sense of comfort, reminding them that they are walking on land blessed by the presence of the Messenger of Allah (peace be upon him).

At the heart of Madinah stands the magnificent Prophet’s Mosque (Al-Masjid An-Nabawi), one of the holiest sites in Islam. Within its sacred boundaries lies the house of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), where he spent much of his life and where he is buried alongside his beloved companions, Abu Bakr As-Siddiq (RA) and Umar ibn Al-Khattab (RA).

The first time I entered Madinah and subsequently stepped into the Prophet’s Mosque to observe the Maghrib and Isha prayers, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Words failed me. My eyes filled with tears of joy and gratitude. For years, I had dreamed of visiting this sacred place, and suddenly I found myself standing within its walls.

As I joined thousands of worshippers in prayer, an indescribable feeling settled over me. My mind became calm, my heart found rest, and my entire body felt a comfort unlike anything I had ever experienced. It was as though every burden and worry had been lifted away. The peaceful atmosphere of the mosque, combined with the spiritual presence of the place, created a feeling that remains unforgettable.

Although we arrived in Madinah late at night from Jeddah, I could hardly wait for dawn. Immediately after the Fajr prayer the following morning, I hurried back to the Prophet’s Mosque to visit the resting place of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and his noble companions.

Standing before the sacred chamber was one of the most emotional moments of my life. Tears flowed freely as I thanked Allah Almighty for granting me the opportunity to fulfill a dream I had cherished for many years. I offered my greetings and salutations to the Prophet (peace be upon him), Abu Bakr (RA), and Umar (RA), praying that Allah would count me among those who sincerely love and follow their noble example.

Another unforgettable experience was praying in Al-Rawdah, the blessed area between the Prophet’s pulpit and his house. The Prophet (peace be upon him) described it as a garden from the gardens of Paradise. Every Muslim who enters Al-Rawdah feels a special connection to history, faith, and spirituality. Being in that sacred space filled me with gratitude and humility. I spent those precious moments in prayer, reflection, and remembrance of Allah, thanking Him for His countless blessings.

What makes Madinah even more remarkable is not only its sacred sites but also the character of its people. The residents of Madinah are widely known for their kindness, hospitality, and respect for visitors. Whether in the streets, markets, hotels, or around the mosque, one encounters smiles, warm greetings, and genuine willingness to help.

The hospitality of the people reflects the legacy of the Ansar—the noble residents of Madinah who welcomed the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and his companions during the Hijrah. That spirit of generosity and care continues to live on in the city today. Visitors from every race, language, and nationality are treated with respect and dignity, making them feel at home despite being far from their own countries.

Walking through the streets of Madinah is itself a memorable experience. The city is remarkably clean, organized, and peaceful. Around the Prophet’s Mosque, worshippers from every corner of the world gather in unity, demonstrating the universal brotherhood of Islam. Despite the diversity of cultures and languages, everyone is united by the same faith and love for Allah and His Messenger.

My stay in Madinah lasted only two days before I departed for Makkah to commence the rites of pilgrimage. Yet those two days remain among the most cherished moments of my life. The joy, comfort, spiritual fulfillment, and inner peace I experienced are memories that can never be erased.

Even now, whenever I reflect on those blessed days, my heart longs to return. Madinah is not simply a city one visits; it is a city that captures the soul. Its beauty lies not only in its buildings or landmarks but in the tranquility it offers, the history it preserves, and the spiritual connection it nurtures.

As I conclude this reflection, I pray that Allah, the Most Merciful, grants me another opportunity to visit Madinah and the Prophet’s Mosque. I also pray that every Muslim who desires to visit the blessed city will one day be granted that privilege.

May Allah continue to shower His peace and blessings upon our beloved Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), his family, his companions, and all those who follow his guidance until the Day of Judgment.

Ameen.

By Alhassan Bala

The annexation of Crimea by Russia in 2014 marked not only a violation of international law but also the beginning of a systematic campaign to undermine the cultural identity of the Crimean Peninsula’s indigenous people.

The Crimean Tatars, who had already endured one of history’s most devastating forced deportations under Joseph Stalin, now face a renewed threat as Russia continues efforts that many observers say are aimed at eroding their language, culture, and religious freedoms.

According to discussions with representatives of the Crimean Tatar community, the current situation goes beyond cultural suppression. It is, they argue, a gradual process of cultural extinction.

The Crimean Tatars have survived persecution before. In 1944, Stalin ordered the mass deportation of the entire Crimean Tatar population from their homeland to Central Asia. Packed into cattle cars and transported under inhumane conditions, nearly half of the deportees died during the journey or in the early years of exile.

It took decades for survivors and their descendants to return to Crimea and rebuild their communities following the collapse of the Soviet Union.

I recently met several Crimean Tatars, and hearing their accounts of how their grandparents endured displacement, hardship, and persecution was deeply moving.

Their stories are a reminder of the resilience of a people determined to preserve their identity despite repeated attempts to erase it.

Today, more than seventy years after Stalin’s deportations, history appears to be repeating itself in a different form. Rather than relying on mass expulsions, Russia is accused of employing more subtle methods, including institutional discrimination, restrictions on religious practice, and the gradual erosion of linguistic and cultural identity.

Language is central to the survival of any people, and critics say Russian authorities understand this well. Since the annexation, Crimean Tatar-language education has reportedly been significantly reduced.

Schools that once provided instruction in the Crimean Tatar language have been encouraged or compelled to switch to Russian. Crimean Tatar textbooks have become increasingly scarce, while educators who seek to preserve indigenous-language instruction face growing challenges.

The Ukrainian language has faced a similar decline. Prior to 2014, Ukrainian was widely taught and spoken throughout Crimea.

Today, opportunities to study both Crimean Tatar and Ukrainian have reportedly been reduced dramatically. In many cases, Crimean Tatar language instruction is limited to only a few hours per week, while Ukrainian-language education has largely disappeared from public institutions.

Critics describe this as a form of linguistic colonialism. By restricting access to education in native languages, they argue, future generations become increasingly disconnected from their cultural heritage.

Over time, languages that once flourished in Crimea risk becoming marginalized in the very homeland where they originated.

For the predominantly Muslim Crimean Tatar community, concerns extend beyond language to the practice of their faith.

Human rights organizations have documented reports of mosque raids, arrests of religious leaders, and restrictions on religious education.

The Mejlis, the representative body of the Crimean Tatar people, was banned by Russian authorities as an “extremist organization,” a move widely condemned by international observers.

Young Crimean Tatar men have faced particular scrutiny. Many have been detained and prosecuted under allegations of affiliation with Hizb ut-Tahrir, an organization that is legal in Ukraine but prohibited in Russia.

Human rights advocates have questioned the fairness of some of these prosecutions, citing concerns over evidence and due process.

Reports also indicate that religious literature has been confiscated and that Islamic educational activities have been subjected to increased restrictions.

For many Crimean Tatars, these measures reinforce a perception that maintaining their distinct religious and cultural identity has become increasingly difficult under Russian rule.

Crimean Tatar citizen journalists who document human rights abuses face heavily militarized show trials. Many are sentenced to decades in Russian penal colonies. Journalists face forced disappearances, physical violence, and raids on their homes. For example, Iryna Danylovych, a freelance reporter, was abducted by the FSB and transferred to a Russian prison.

The international community must continue to pay attention to the situation in Crimea. The Crimean Tatars survived Stalin’s attempt to destroy their nation and identity.

They rebuilt their communities from the ashes of exile and deserve the opportunity to preserve what they have fought so hard to reclaim—their language, their faith, their culture, and their homeland.

In this regard, the efforts of the Crimea Platform, an international initiative established to keep global attention focused on Crimea and the challenges faced by its people, remain important.

Through dialogue, advocacy, and international engagement, the platform continues to highlight the plight of Crimeans and the need for a peaceful and just resolution.

Alhassan Bala writes from Abuja, Nigeria.