Former President Olusegun Obasanjo has once again thrust himself at the center of Nigeria’s national conversation after boldly declaring that Nigerians “owe no one an apology” for seeking assistance from the international community to combat the country’s deepening insecurity crisis. His comments, delivered with characteristic bluntness, have triggered a wave of public reactions, political interpretations, and renewed scrutiny over Nigeria’s worsening safety challenges. At a time when communities are being ravaged by kidnappings, banditry, terrorism, and communal conflicts, Obasanjo’s statement has resonated across the country, offering both a sobering reflection and a provocative call to action.
Speaking on the alarming rise in violent attacks, the former president emphasized that the loss of Nigerian lives has reached a level that demands urgent, unconventional measures. According to him, insecurity has become a daily national tragedy cutting across religion, ethnicity, region, and political affiliation. He noted that the people being killed, kidnapped, or displaced are first and foremost human beings, citizens of a nation that has struggled for years to fully contain threats that have evolved in complexity and brutality. In his words, Nigerians cannot continue to prioritize pride or political correctness over the sanctity of life, and if international support is what it takes, then the nation must seek it without hesitation or shame.
Obasanjo’s stance is not entirely new. Throughout his post-presidential years, he has remained outspoken on Nigeria’s security situation, often urging bold and decisive strategies. However, this latest declaration stands out for its directness and the urgency it conveys. It comes at a time when security analysts, civil society organizations, and everyday citizens are increasingly questioning whether Nigeria can realistically handle the spiraling crisis using only its domestic resources and capacity. From rural villages in the North-West to highways in the South and farmlands in the Middle Belt, violence has become a constant shadow, disrupting livelihoods, scaring investors, and fracturing communal trust.
In many parts of the country, families now sleep with one eye open, while others have resorted to self-help measures in the absence of adequate state protection. The rise of armed gangs, the expanding operations of terrorist groups, and the persistence of kidnappers who target schools, travelers, and entire communities have painted a bleak picture that no responsible leader can ignore. For Obasanjo, this is precisely why Nigerians must not feel pressured to justify their plea for global intervention. He insisted that human life has universal value, and if international expertise, intelligence support, or military partnership can help save lives, then Nigeria must reach out boldly and unapologetically.
His position, however, has also stirred controversy. Some political actors argue that appealing to external powers could undermine Nigeria’s sovereignty, weaken national morale, or expose the country to foreign influence that may not always align with local interests. Critics say Nigeria has enough trained personnel, security agencies, and strategic assets to defeat insurgency and banditry if only the political will, accountability, and leadership structures were strengthened. Others believe that Obasanjo’s statement is a subtle indictment of the current administration’s handling of national security, suggesting that the former president is indirectly calling out inefficiency or lack of urgency in the fight against insecurity.
But many Nigerians who have lived through the terror of bandit attacks, who have paid ransom to retrieve loved ones, or who have fled their homes in fear have applauded Obasanjo’s frankness. For them, the argument is not about politics or pride—it is about survival. Parents in conflict-prone regions want their children to attend school without the constant threat of abduction. Farmers want to return to their fields without fear of being attacked. Traders want to travel across states without the dread of encountering armed men on the highways. Communities want peace, not prolonged speeches or unending promises. In their view, if seeking help from outside the country will fast-track security improvements, then it should be embraced without reservation.
Obasanjo’s comments also highlight an uncomfortable truth: the scale of Nigeria’s insecurity has outgrown the capacity of existing systems. Military personnel are overstretched, police forces are underfunded, intelligence gaps persist, and corruption continues to sabotage genuine efforts. The former president’s message is a reminder that national security is not merely a domestic issue—it is a global concern, especially when terrorism, arms trafficking, and organized crime networks are increasingly interconnected across borders. Countries across Africa and beyond have benefited from international collaboration, and Nigeria, despite its size and pride, is no exception to that reality.
Furthermore, his statement arrives at a moment when confidence in Nigeria’s security institutions is fragile. Public trust has been eroded by years of unresolved attacks, delayed responses, and recurring tragedies that leave families grieving without closure. For many, Obasanjo’s call for global partnership feels like a pragmatic acknowledgment that Nigeria cannot continue pretending that everything is under control. It is a call to prioritize human life above national ego, above political games, and above narratives that no longer align with the daily reality of millions of citizens.
Yet, for all the reactions his remark has drawn, one thing is clear: Obasanjo has reignited a crucial national debate. His statement forces Nigerians—political leaders, security chiefs, and the ordinary citizens—to confront uncomfortable questions. Should the country continue battling these violent threats alone, even when lives are lost daily? Should seeking international assistance be seen as weakness or wisdom? And more importantly, how much longer can Nigeria afford to wait before making bold decisions that could save thousands of lives?
As the discussions unfold, what remains undeniable is the urgency of Nigeria’s security situation. Every day lost to bureaucracy, politics, or pride is another day that families are torn apart, communities are terrorized, and the nation is pushed further into fear and uncertainty. Obasanjo’s words, stripped of diplomacy and sentiment, reflect a harsh truth that many Nigerians quietly share but seldom voice publicly: the crisis has reached a point where doing nothing new is no longer an option.
In the end, whether Nigeria chooses to heed Obasanjo’s call or not, his message stands as a stark reminder of the value of human life. And his declaration—that Nigerians owe no one an apology for seeking help—is an invitation for the country to rethink its strategy, reevaluate its priorities, and put the safety and dignity of its citizens above all else.