Since I wrote my piece on the Christmas Day airstrike by the United States, there has been an outpouring of responses. Many understood the point I was making; some did not, and that is perfectly fine.

We are not all at the same level of knowledge or understanding on this matter. That would be impossible. And even if, by some magical wand, we were brought to the same level of knowledge, we would still not share the same level of interest, urgency, or prioritisation. In saying this, I lay no claim to superior insight or a higher moral stake in our beloved country. On that score, I neither exalt myself nor judge anyone else. Ultimately, let our fruits speak, for us, against us, now, tomorrow, and even into eternity.

What follows, therefore, is not a clarification intended to double down on a position for its own sake. Rather, it is an effort at conscientisation, the kind that, when sustained and shared, can become a catalyst, or at least one of the rallying points, for the birth of a Nigeria that has never truly been born.

Some critics appear to think that my position reflects a lack of understanding of international politics, its inner and outer workings or of the reality that no nation is an island and that states must engage in mutually beneficial collaboration. Anyone who has followed my thoughts over the years would know this is a misreading.

To suggest that international politics is anything other than a complex chessboard of aggregated interests, especially in this era of aggressive protectionism championed by the West, would itself be the height of naïveté.

Let me be clear: my position is not against external or foreign support.

Yes, a nation may seek help where, for all practical purposes, it is helpless, especially where its government is sincere and genuinely prepared to confront the root causes of insecurity. But that sincerity is precisely what is in question.

For external support to be morally and strategically defensible, a government must have demonstrably done its best: deploying available resources with prudence, acting consistently in the best interest of the people, and treating their welfare as its ever-present compass. These elements are not merely weak in our case; they are factually absent and, judging by the established pattern of governance, structurally missing from the equation. That is one of the central issues I am calling attention to.

Where I come from, there is a saying: you do not invite a lifeguard to jump into the river to save you when only your feet are still on the riverbank. In other words, you do not escalate to extraordinary measures when sincerity, competence, and exhaustiveness have not been demonstrated in the ordinary ones.

Too often, we treat insecurity in Nigeria as if it has no social causes, no “national question” dimension, and no deeper governance context. We speak as though insecurity can be solved in isolation, without a frank national conversation about sovereignty and nationhood; without structural reform; without electoral reform; and without the kind of serious dialogue that a truly sovereign national conference would represent.

In my view, insecurity is not the problem; it is a symptom, a manifestation of deeper failures that have long been left unaddressed. The tragedy is that our rulers continue to hold the nation hostage by refusing to confront these foundational issues with honesty and courage, while offering the fraudulent impression that Nigeria’s insecurity began in 2009 with the emergence of Boko Haram and exists as an isolated phenomenon.

A nation is first and foremost a social idea, rooted in a social contract, historical memory, shared values, and political purpose before it becomes a territorial or military reality. Like the human body, nothing within a nation collapses in isolation. Yet we allow ourselves to be misled into believing that once “insecurity” is ‘solved,’ we are home and dry.

That is like trying to uproot a tree by pulling at its leaves while leaving the roots firmly planted. That is the tragedy we are dealing with.

By the foregoing assertions, I do not, by any means or imagination minimise the grave fact that we are losing lives in droves, and that people are suffering terribly, socially and economically from the present state of insecurity in Nigeria, particularly in the North, where human life is too often priced below that of cattle.

We must remain unswerving in demanding that government stop the killings and end this ongoing pogrom.

But we must do so with clarity: whatever immediate security steps are taken, whether internal measures or carefully defined external support, can only be first aid: an interim intervention aimed at stopping the bleeding.

It must not become a substitute for the higher responsibility we must also impose on the state: to confront and resolve the deeper “nationhood question” that incubates these recurring crises.

And where external support is sought, a sincere government must define clear limits, set strict terms of reference, and ensure that any foreign involvement is tightly confined without mission creep, within those agreed boundaries. Sadly, that discipline and clarity have not been the defining character of our leadership.

Beyond all of this, citizens must hold fast to a fundamental truth: our salvation lies in holding our own government accountable. No external power, no matter how strong or well-intentioned will do that work for us, nor can it sustain it on our behalf.

Some have argued that Nigeria itself has participated in peacekeeping missions in other countries, including through ECOMOG in Liberia. I agree, that is a form of external support. But has that intervention, by itself, made Liberia a prosperous nation if its people do not hold their own government accountable?

That is the point.

External assistance may create breathing space, but it can never substitute for internal accountability, institutional reform, and a conscientised citizenry.

This is the central point I am making, and I remain open to being challenged by informed minds. However, for those who resort to abuse and derogatory language, it is important to remember that in both private and public discourse, basic maturity requires that we learn to disagree without becoming disagreeable.

No matter how strongly we differ, we do not advance any argument by attacking the dignity of the human person. Indeed, this is one of the most important lessons we must model and teach our precious children.

Do have a great week ahead with your families.