The recent statement by the Kwara State Commissioner of Police that vigilante members arrested by the Nigerian Army in Edo State were “legitimate” has once again exposed a dangerous and unresolved fault line in Nigeria’s internal security architecture.
According to the police, the men—arrested by soldiers during a routine security operation and later transferred to Kwara—were profiled and released after being identified as members of a vigilante group “working in partnership with recognized security agencies.”
The word “legitimate” was used publicly and without qualification.
That single word has now become the problem.
What does “legitimate” actually mean?
In law and governance, legitimate means lawfully authorised, legally sanctioned, and operating within a recognised statutory framework.
It does not merely mean known, recognised, or familiar.
If the police meant that the individuals were genuine members of a known community group, that is an administrative fact — not a legal status.
If they meant lawfully empowered to bear arms and operate as an armed security outfit, then the public deserves to know under which law.
So far, no such law has been cited.
The constitutional reality Nigeria cannot evade.
The 1999 Constitution is explicit:
There shall be one Police Force for the Federation.
“No other police force shall be established for any part of Nigeria.”
Vigilante groups are not recognised constitutional security agencies. They may exist socially, culturally, or informally — but they do not possess coercive authority under the Constitution.
Furthermore, the Firearms Act is equally unambiguous.
Prohibited firearms — including military-grade rifles such as AK-pattern weapons — cannot be possessed by civilians except under strict licensing tied to presidential authority and traceable legal processes.
Being called a vigilante, or being “recognized” by local actors, does not transform an illegal weapon into a legal one.
Why the Nigerian Army was right to arrest them.
Nigeria is currently running a counterterrorism and counter-banditry campaign in which the Army plays a central operational role.
In such an environment:
Terrorists and bandits move in civilian clothing.
They use the same weapon types reportedly carried by some vigilante groups.
They exploit ambiguity and poor coordination.
A soldier encountering armed civilians on a highway has a duty to interdict first and verify later.
That is not incompetence — it is operational prudence.
When police authorities later describe such arrests as involving “legitimate” vigilantes, the unintended effect is to publicly delegitimise lawful military action, while emboldening other armed civilian groups to believe they enjoy de facto immunity.
This is strategically reckless.
The NSA angle: coordination is not authorisation.
This incident cannot be separated from earlier controversies in Kwara State, where vigilante members arrested with new assault rifles claimed they were working under the Office of the National Security Adviser (NSA) — a claim that was later publicly acknowledged as part of a security support initiative.
This raises unavoidable legal questions:
Does the NSA have the statutory authority to set up vigilante groups?
No law establishing the NSA confers the power to create armed civilian formations.
The NSA’s mandate is coordination, intelligence harmonisation, and advisory support to the President — not force creation.
Does the NSA have the authority to arm civilians?
Arms control in Nigeria is governed by the Firearms Act.
Weapons licensing is a legal process, not a policy shortcut.
Strategic necessity does not override statute.
Even if well-intentioned, any programme that places weapons in civilian hands without a clear legal framework creates a shadow force that exists outside constitutional command and accountability.
That is not security reform; it is institutional improvisation.
Comparative perspective: how serious countries avoid this trap.
Nigeria’s dilemma is not unique — but its response is increasingly abnormal.
United Kingdom: Neighbourhood Watch schemes are explicitly unarmed, focused on intelligence sharing and crime prevention, not enforcement.
South Africa: Community Police Forums are provided for in law and function as oversight and cooperation platforms, not armed patrol units.
Kenya: Where auxiliaries exist, they are formally integrated as police reservists, with defined training, command, identification, and — critically — periodic disarmament when abuse escalates.
In all three cases, the rule is clear:
Either community support is unarmed, or it is formally absorbed into a regulated auxiliary structure.
Nigeria is doing neither — and paying the price in confusion.
Why this is disastrous for counterterrorism task.
Counterterrorism depends on clarity of threat identification.
When civilians, vigilantes, bandits, and terrorists all move with similar weapons and appearance:
Soldiers hesitate.
Criminals exploit hesitation.
Innocents are endangered.
Accountability collapses.
An Army forced to second-guess every armed encounter is an Army operationally handicapped.
No serious counterterror campaign can succeed under such ambiguity.
The Kwara CP must clarify — publicly and precisely.
Given the sensitivity of this case, the Kwara State Commissioner of Police owes the public clarity, not generalities.
Specifically:
Which vigilante group were the men members of?
Under what legal or regulatory framework does the group operate?
Which “recognized security agencies” are they partnered with — Police, DSS, NSCDC, or others?
Were any firearms involved, and if so, what type, under whose licence, and issued by which authority?
Without these answers, the word “legitimate” remains legally, empty and operationally dangerous.
Conclusion: Nigeria must draw the line — now.
No individual, no office, and no emergency rationale has the right to create parallel armed forces outside constitutional control. Vigilantism may arise from insecurity, but arming it without law weaponises confusion.
Nigeria must choose:
Either formalise auxiliary security through clear legislation, command, and accountability;
Or restrict community security to intelligence and support roles.
What it cannot continue to do is pretend that armed civilians are “legitimate” simply because they are familiar.
That path does not strengthen security.
It dismantles it — quietly, legally, and dangerously.
Dr. G. Fraser. MFR.
The National Patriots.
