When six states in Nigeria’s South-West zone came together in January 2020 to create Amotekun, a regional security outfit to confront social ills spreading across the region, they weren’t reinventing the wheel, despite the political fanfare.
They were re-enacting a past that seemed so far back it had been forgotten altogether – a policing structure that died in 1966, after the Unification Decree abolished Nigeria’s federalism.
That decree consolidated political, social and economic structures into a single chain of command and control, following the termination of the First Republic in a military coup.
Once upon a refuge
It is noteworthy that when Majors Emmanuel Ifeajuna, Chukwuma Nzeogwu and co. struck, the most senior military officer at the time, Major-General Aguiyi-Ironsi, took refuge not at any army barracks but at the Police Headquarters in Lagos, from where he plotted a counter-offensive.
The Police were that resourced.
That coup officially marked the beginning of a warped system of federalism, in which authority resided in the centre and was devolved to the regions, which later became states.
The states became heavily dependent on the centre as subsidiaries, rather than as mutual partners in a federal arrangement.
The police force also became a casualty of the distortion.
Hitherto decentralised along regional lines, with Native Authorities handling duties peculiar to the regions and coexisting with the federal police, the force died at the regional level.
It reincarnated as a national behemoth with the enactment of the Police Act 1966.
Nearly two decades later, when soldiers struck again, they emasculated the Federal Police that they had set up.
A different world
But Nigeria in 2026 is far more complex and more dangerous than it was in 1966. Terror, banditry, and organised crime, which were exceptions, have become the norm.
These challenges warrant a review of the constitution and composition of the force to adapt to new realities.
It’s quite befuddling, then, when the police high command, regulatory agencies and other stakeholders resist the very thought of state police as though it’s an aberration, when in reality it’s Nigeria’s system of federalism that is the problem.
A distorted policing system is largely a reflection of Nigeria’s dysfunctional federalism and partly the orchestration of vested interests that ensure it is preserved to sustain their authority and power.
Examples from other lands
By contrast, policing systems in the US, Canada, and India reflect their federal structures, balancing central and subnational responsibilities with distinct jurisdictional scopes, according to research.
A further comparison reveals that the US operates a highly decentralised system with nearly 18,000 law enforcement agencies.
Federal agencies like the FBI, DEA, ATF, and US Marshals handle interstate crimes, national security, and specific federal violations (e.g., terrorism, drug trafficking).
Each of the 50 states maintains state police or highway patrol for state-wide enforcement (e.g., traffic, rural crimes), while counties rely on elected sheriffs’ offices and cities on municipal police departments; these enforce state and local laws with concurrent authority.
In Canada, policing follows a provincial model within its federal framework.
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) serves as the federal police for national/international crimes (e.g., border security, cybercrime) and contracts with eight provinces, three territories, and over 150 municipalities to provide police services.
Ontario and Quebec maintain independent provincial police (OPP and SQ) for broader provincial duties like highways and rural areas, alongside municipal forces in larger cities (e.g., Toronto, Montreal).
India’s system blends central oversight with state primacy under its quasi-federal constitution.
States manage 90% of policing through their police forces, handling routine law enforcement, traffic enforcement, and crime investigation under the state directors general of police (DGPs). Central agencies such as the Central Reserve Police Force (CRPF), the Border Security Force (BSF), and the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) support states in internal security, counter-insurgency, border security, and the investigation of major federal crimes (e.g., corruption, terrorism).
They are deployable at state request or under central direction.
The Indian Police Service (IPS) – an elite all-India cadre – provides senior officers to states and the centre, ensuring uniformity amid state autonomy.
Resistance within
Despite the protestations of Nigeria’s Federal police about what they see as the birth of a rivalry, the state governors of Lagos, Oyo, Osun, Ekiti, Ondo and Ogun pressed ahead with Amotekun.
According to reports, each state contributed vehicles, motorcycles and other logistic paraphernalia to ensure the launch.
The goal was for Amotekun operatives to assist the conventional police in managing crime in identified hotspots.
Amotekun’s success may have been limited, but it’s a promising start. Crime and conflicts have festered in the region, appearing to be an outcrop of more intense criminal and terror activities in the contiguous states of Kwara, Niger and Kogi.
Anecdotal information suggests that 23 of the 36 states in the Nigerian federation have established security outfits.
Some form of state-backed or community security organisation or other, often with different names and mandates, has become the vogue rather than the exception.
New outfits are still being launched or restructured by communities, either as vigilante groups, hunting groups, neighbourhood watches, or other protective or early-warning local initiatives.
In Kano, the Hisbah, or Shariah Police, is fully operational as a state-run bureaucracy. States like Benue and Zamfara launched Civil Protection Guards and Community Protection Guards, respectively.
In Lagos, Kaduna, and several other states, basic social order, such as traffic control, crowd management, surveillance, and intelligence, is in the hands of sundry agencies responsible to local authorities, formal or semi-formal.
Resisting change
Despite these realities, talk about state police still sounds utopian to the regular cops themselves.
It has been suggested that former Inspector-General Kayode Egbetokun was forced to resign for sleepwalking through the implementation of a presidential directive on state police.
Egbetokun may not be alone in the lack of enthusiasm. One major apprehension stems from the fear of abuse by state governors – quasi dictators who run riot over the state legislature, judiciary and local government administration.
The fear is that adding the police to the above superstructure will make governors into wrecking balls.
Economic and fiscal arguments have also been advanced against state police.
For instance, most states are not economically viable or financially self-sustaining beyond relying on revenue disbursements from the Federation Account.
Wronging a right
While the fear of abuse by states and funding concerns are valid, they are insufficient to delay the commencement of state police.
If abuse were the main concern, the Federal Government has weaponised the police against the states for nearly 60 years.
A regulated policing system that sets out the boundaries and a framework for adjudication between the tiers of government cannot be a bad thing.
As for the funding argument, many states are currently responsible not only for funding the police but also for funding their own vigilantes.
Tinubu’s return
After decades of wear and tear, the police force, as presently constituted, is more like a uniformed agency, often implicated or suspected of colluding in the perpetration of crime rather than fighting it, largely because the communities they serve are not invested in recruitment, training, and accountability.
For a moment, I thought the demons of Abuja had seized President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, one of the strongest advocates of state police.
It’s a relief that he has regained his mojo.
I hope the Senate will act immediately to amend the Constitution.