The night Moriki went silent, it was not because its people were asleep.
It was because they were hiding.
When gunmen stormed the farming town in Zurmi Local Government Area, shooting into the air and breaking down doors, families fled into the darkness clutching children and little else. By dawn, Lauwali Musa Moriki, the town’s health educator, lay dead. Members of his family had been dragged away.
For residents of Moriki in Zamfara State, the attack was not shocking. It was familiar.
What is new – and deeply unsettling – is the public admission by Governor Dauda Lawal that much of this bloodshed, he believes, could be prevented.
In an interview with Vanguard, the governor described a surveillance architecture of satellites and drones capable of tracking bandits’ movements across forests and villages in real time. Every movement, he said, is relayed to security agencies — the police, military, DSS and Civil Defence.
“But it is not their priority,” he said bluntly.
His frustration echoes across a state that has become shorthand for banditry in Nigeria’s northwest.
A Decade of Fear
For more than ten years, Zamfara has endured cycles of raids, mass abductions and reprisals. Entire villages have been razed. Farmers have been shot in their fields. Schoolchildren have been taken from dormitories in the dead of night.
In February 2021, 279 girls were abducted from a boarding school in Jangebe, thrusting Zamfara into global headlines. Months later, coordinated assaults in Zurmi left scores of farmers dead. Communities like Moriki have repeatedly been attacked despite warnings and distress calls.
Across the border in Kaduna State, similar patterns have emerged, suggesting a regional crisis that respects no administrative boundary.
Governor Lawal says that when he assumed office, he inherited “a very, very serious and dysfunctional state.” Insecurity, he insists, remains the central challenge – one that has crippled agriculture, shuttered schools, and emptied markets at dusk.
He says he has personally briefed President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, warning that the full reality on the ground may not be reaching Abuja.
“They are not telling you the truth,” he said of reports filtering upward.
The Engines of Insecurity
Behind the headlines lies a complex web of forces that sustain the violence.
1. The Forest Advantage
Vast forest belts stretching across Zamfara and into neighboring states serve as operational bases for armed groups. Difficult terrain, limited road networks and thin security presence allow bandits to strike quickly and retreat beyond immediate reach.
2. A Thriving Kidnap Economy
Kidnapping for ransom has evolved into a lucrative criminal enterprise. Families, communities – and sometimes local governments – are pressured to pay millions of naira for the release of loved ones. In some areas, villagers reportedly pay levies to armed groups in exchange for temporary peace.
These informal “peace deals” may reduce short-term attacks but critics warn they entrench criminal authority and weaken the state’s legitimacy.
3. Rural Marginalisation
Years of underdevelopment have left many young men unemployed and vulnerable to recruitment. Competition over farmland and grazing routes has deepened tensions between farming and pastoral communities, creating flashpoints that armed groups exploit.
4. Erosion of Trust
Perhaps most damaging is the growing perception that distress calls go unanswered. In towns like Moriki, residents say warnings were issued before attacks – yet help did not arrive in time. Each successful raid chips away at public confidence.
Technology Without Response?
Governor Lawal’s most provocative claim is that intelligence is not the problem.
“With technology, every movement of any bandit, I have it,” he said. The implication is stark: the state can see the threat – but fails to act decisively.
Security analysts say that intelligence is only as effective as the response chain behind it. Delays in authorization, poor inter-agency coordination, logistical gaps, and overstretched personnel can blunt even the most precise surveillance data.
The governor’s comments raise uncomfortable questions:
If bandits can be tracked in real time, why do communities still burn?
If their camps are mapped, why do attacks persist?
What Could Change the Tide?
Experts and policy advocates point to several measures that could alter the trajectory:
▪︎Coordinated Regional Command
Bandit groups operate across state lines. A unified, multi-state operational framework – with shared intelligence and rapid deployment capacity – could reduce the gaps they exploit.
▪︎Intelligence Fusion and Rapid Response
Real-time data must be matched with real-time action. Dedicated response units positioned closer to high-risk rural corridors could shorten reaction time after alerts.
▪︎Regulated Community Policing
Local vigilante groups have emerged in self-defense, but without proper oversight they risk escalating violence. Structured community policing, integrated into formal security architecture, could strengthen early warning systems while preserving accountability.
▪︎Economic Stabilisation
Reviving agriculture, rebuilding rural infrastructure, and investing in youth employment are long-term strategies – but necessary ones. Reducing the financial incentives of banditry requires shrinking the pool of desperate recruits.
▪︎Targeted Kinetic Operations
Intelligence-driven air and ground operations against known hideouts, when carefully executed to avoid civilian harm, have shown potential in degrading armed networks.
A State Waiting for Peace
As dusk falls again over Zurmi Local Government Area, farmers hurry home earlier than they once did. In many villages, night no longer signals rest, but vigilance.
In Moriki, grief lingers. Children whisper about the sound of motorcycles in the distance. Mothers scan tree lines before stepping outside.
Governor Lawal insists the state cannot be weaker than the criminals within it. His challenge is not merely technological – it is institutional and political. It is about urgency, coordination, and the will to act.
Zamfara’s tragedy is not that the danger is invisible.
It is that, by the governor’s account, it may already be seen — and still not stopped.
