By I. M. Lawal
In the annals of Nigeria’s security failures, one incident will go down as both tragic and absurd: the fundraising campaign by retired and serving military officers to pay ransom for the release of a kidnapped Brigadier General. According to a letter dated April 4th, 2025, Brigadier General MI Tsiga, abducted from his home in Tsiga Town, Katsina State, was freed only after a WhatsApp group named “TSIGA” — created by fellow military officers — successfully mobilized hundreds of contributors to meet the bandits’ demand of 400 million naira.
Yes, you read that right — Generals raised money to pay bandits. Not through state power. Not with elite rescue squads. But with digital alms and bank transfers.
And who were the contributors? Retired and serving generals, ambassadors, businessmen, university dons, and concerned civilians. The same people who once commanded men into battle now huddled behind phone screens, making mobile deposits to secure the release of a brother-in-arms.
This is not just a personal tragedy. It is a national shame. A symbol of broken security and an indictment of our military’s declining authority.
This is the same Nigerian military that, in December 2015, bulldozed its way through Zaria in a brutal confrontation with members of the Islamic Movement of Nigeria (IMN). At that time, many Nigerians — even those disturbed by the high civilian casualties — still believed the military was asserting its authority, that no group or ideology could challenge the movement of the Nigerian Armed Forces within its sovereign territory.
But today, the same military has been forced to bow. Not to Shiites. Not to Boko Haram. But to local bandits. Bandits! Armed criminals who now dictate terms to the very institution that was once feared across West Africa.
If a General can be taken from his home, held hostage, and freed only after a crowdfunding campaign, then who in this country is safe? For those without the luxury of high-ranking friends, ex-military contacts, or elite WhatsApp platforms, their name is “Sorry.” If your family cannot raise millions, your freedom — or your life — ends where the bandit’s rifle begins.
What happened to the military budget? What happened to intelligence operations? What happened to Nigeria’s much-touted joint task forces, special squads, drones, and elite rescue teams? What happened to the “no negotiation with terrorists” mantra?
This case reveals what many feared but few could openly admit: Nigeria has become a state that can no longer protect its own protectors.
What this country needs now is not empty patriotism or recycled security strategies. It needs leadership with spine. It needs reform, accountability, and a decisive return to professionalism in our armed forces and security sector. It needs justice — not just for General Tsiga, but for the thousands of nameless victims who never made it back because no one could raise their ransom.
The bitter truth is this: if the generals are not safe, then the rest of us are already in captivity.