Security is the foundation of economic growth and societal stability. Without it, commerce falters, trust erodes, and communities disintegrate. In Nigeria, where kidnapping has become an industry, the search for a sustainable security model is urgent.
According to SBM Intelligence, between July 2023 and June 2024, Nigeria recorded 1,130 kidnapping incidents, with 7,568 victims. Kidnappers demanded a staggering ₦10.99 billion in ransom but received ₦1.05 billion—a fraction of their demands, highlighting the growing desperation of criminal networks.
While the Northwest remains the epicentre of Nigeria’s kidnapping crisis, the Southeast recorded 240 kidnapping incidents, the lowest of any region in Nigeria, as reported by the NBS Crime Survey, 2024. Anambra state accounted for 29 of these incidents, with 46 victims, placing it among the states with lower overall cases in Nigeria.
However, despite its relative safety, Anambra has become a prime target for criminals due to the high success rate of ransom payments. In one striking case, abductors demanded ₦300 million but ultimately received ₦350 million. This paradox presents a harsh reality: criminals go where the money flows.
Nigeria’s security challenge is exacerbated by chronic underfunding of law enforcement. The country’s 2025 police budget translates to $3.43 per capita, rising from $2.60 in 2024. Nigeria’s police budget, compared to South Africa’s $100.12 per person, is 28 times more, while Egypt’s $16.60 per capita is five times more than Nigeria’s police spend.
This comparison tells a disturbing story and reveals a deep funding problem. Nigeria’s police force is severely under-resourced compared to global standards. The inadequacy of conventional policing necessitates an urgent rethink.
Governor Charles Soludo of Anambra State, a former central bank governor and renowned economist, has introduced a bold and controversial response. The Homeland Security Law 2025 is a radical shift from conventional policing, embedding security within governance, morality, and civic duty. Unlike Nigeria’s traditional approach, which places the entire burden on the police and military, Soludo’s model extends responsibility to landlords, town unions, businesses, and religious institutions.
The law mandates tenant registration, requiring landlords to document and report the identities of those living on their properties. Town unions must submit monthly security reports or risk losing government recognition, effectively making communities accountable for tracking suspicious activities. Hotels and short-let apartments must register all guests and install surveillance systems. Religious institutions found complicit in criminal activities face closure, while properties used for crime will be seized, with their owners facing up to 25 years in prison. Even supernatural fraud—money rituals and charms for wealth—is now a criminal offence, carrying a six-year prison sentence and a hefty fine.
This approach represents a fundamental departure from Nigeria’s historically reactive security framework. It acknowledges that policing alone cannot solve a problem rooted in cultural, economic, and social dysfunction. Soludo’s security doctrine argues that crime thrives because of weak law enforcement and a more profound moral crisis.
He has identified three corrosive forces driving crime: a culture that glorifies instant wealth (‘something for nothing’), a societal shift toward materialism at the expense of integrity, and the moral ambivalence of institutions that should serve as society’s ethical compass.
His argument is difficult to ignore. In a society where fraudsters are celebrated, religious institutions bless unexplained wealth, and communities embrace criminals as benefactors, no surveillance cameras or artificial intelligence-driven crime mapping can ensure security.
