By Bishop C. Johnson
The recent viral altercation between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, His Excellency Barr. Nyesom Wike, and a young naval officer, Lieutenant Ahmed Yerima, over a land enforcement issue in Abuja, is an avoidable national embarrassment — one that lays bare the deep decay within Nigeria’s governance and security architecture. What played out before the world was not merely a clash of authority, but a disturbing reflection of systemic disorder, blurred institutional boundaries, and the reckless militarization of civil administration.
While the FCT Minister is known for his proactive and pragmatic leadership style, his direct engagement with a very junior officer in public was unnecessary and counterproductive. Lieutenant Yerima is one of the lowest ranks within the commissioned officer corps of the Nigerian Navy — barely out of the Nigerian Defence Academy, with little to no operational experience outside the classroom. For a two-term governor, a former chief of staff, former minister, and now the administrative head of Nigeria’s capital, to publicly engage such a junior and inexperienced officer is beneath the dignity of his office and inadvertently elevated the young man into an undeserved national sensation.
Leadership, especially at that level, demands restraint and strategic discretion. Upon receiving reports that Federal Capital Territory land enforcement officials were denied access to a disputed property by naval personnel, the proper course of action should have been a simple phone call to the Chief of Naval Staff. The matter would have been swiftly handled within the chain of command, with the personnel withdrawn and the law allowed to take its course. Instead, a situation that could have been quietly resolved became a spectacle — a trending topic that embarrassed both the civil administration and the Armed Forces before the international community.
The FCT Minister did not need to confront naval personnel directly. They are far below his level in the governance hierarchy. The fact that they are military personnel is immaterial in this context. Their constitutional role begins and ends with the defense of Nigeria’s territorial waters against external threats — not the defense of private properties or individuals within the capital city. The use of taxpayer-funded military personnel and assets to block civil authorities from performing lawful duties is an egregious abuse of power, a symptom of a society where lawlessness has become institutionalized.
Military officers — particularly commissioned ones — are bound by law, ethics, and service regulations to refuse unlawful commands, especially those that place them in conflict with civil authorities or involve private interests outside the lawful scope of military operations. The claim that the naval officer was “executing a directive” to secure property linked to a former Service Chief does not, by itself, render the act lawful. The use of serving military personnel or assets for private, civil, or non-military purposes is an aberration in any sane society. No matter how well-intentioned, such action represents a misuse of national security resources and undermines both the integrity of the Armed Forces and the constitutional principle of civilian oversight.
To be clear, obedience in the military is conditional upon legality. The same officer who cannot lawfully obey an order to engage in robbery, kidnapping, or banditry must equally not obey an order that unlawfully obstructs civil law enforcement or administrative actions grounded in the Land Use Act — which vests all land in the Federal Capital Territory (FCT) in the President, acting through delegated authority to the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory. That authority, unless challenged and overturned by a competent court, remains valid and binding on all, including the military.
A retired military officer, no matter how senior he once was, is no longer in any lawful chain of command. He cannot issue military orders, authorize deployment of active personnel, or utilize military assets for personal protection or civil disputes. The moment one hangs up the uniform, one becomes a civilian — and civilians do not command the Armed Forces. Any active-duty personnel acting on such “orders” are complicit in illegality.
The appropriate recourse for a former Chief of Naval Staff who feels aggrieved by an administrative revocation is legal redress, not the deployment of military personnel to secure private property. Doing so is not “administrative defence”; it is an abuse of institutional privilege and an affront to the rule of law. Such conduct echoes a bygone era of military impunity — an era Nigerians collectively rejected with the restoration of democracy.
While the Minister’s public manner may be faulted for its tone, it does not erase the larger truth that civil authority is supreme. The constitutional order demands that the military remain subordinate to civilian leadership, not operate as a parallel power structure. The slightest tolerance for military involvement in private disputes risks eroding the hard-won boundary between military professionalism and political or personal misuse.
Nigeria cannot afford to return to the dark era of military interference in civil affairs — an era that cost many lives and nearly destroyed the country. With current rumours of mutinous sentiments in circulation, this incident should serve as a warning: the Armed Forces must remain apolitical, professional, and loyal to the Constitution above any individual interest.
While President Bola Ahmed Tinubu remains the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, his foremost title is President — a reflection of the fact that his authority emanates from the people. That constitutional relationship underscores why civilian supremacy must always prevail.
In functional democracies, it would be unthinkable for active-duty soldiers or sailors to guard a private residence, let alone obstruct civil enforcement officials. It is a blatant misuse of national resources, especially in a country where the military is stretched thin fighting terrorists, bandits, and pirates across multiple fronts. Every rifle and patrol vehicle deployed to protect private interests in Abuja is one less available for the defense of Nigeria’s territorial integrity.
The glorification of the young naval lieutenant by sections of the public is equally worrisome. It reflects a growing ignorance of military ethics and discipline. Military personnel are not above the law, nor are they permitted to take orders from private individuals — retired generals included. In every professional military establishment, orders must meet specific conditions before they are obeyed. They must be lawful, authoritative, clear, purposeful, and ethical. No order, no matter who gives it, can justify illegal action. The excuse of “just following orders” is invalid under both Nigerian military law and international law.
Thus, even if the young naval officer believed he was acting under instructions, he had a duty to question the legality of the order if it appeared to serve private interests over national duty. The Nigerian Navy, like all military branches, operates under strict constitutional and ethical parameters. Personnel are trained to recognize the difference between orders that defend the state and orders that defend individuals.
In sum, while restraint under provocation is commendable, the real discipline lies in understanding and upholding the limits of lawful duty. The officer’s uniform represents the Republic, not a retired officer’s estate. Upholding that distinction is the true measure of honour and professionalism.
The unfortunate exchange between a senior minister of the republic and a junior naval officer should therefore be seen as a teachable moment — not one for mockery or politicization, but for institutional introspection. Nigeria must urgently reform its civil-military relations, reinforce professional boundaries, and prohibit the deployment of military assets for private or civil enforcement purposes.
Beyond the embarrassment it caused, the incident underscores a fundamental truth: Nigeria cannot build a disciplined and accountable security system when its retired officers continue to wield informal military influence, and when civilian leaders allow emotion to override protocol.
It is time to restore order, professionalism, and respect for institutional hierarchy. Retired officers must be made to understand that they are no longer commanders in the field, and active personnel must be reminded that their oath is to the Constitution — not to individuals, past or present.
In a nation already under global scrutiny for alleged human rights abuses and heavy-handed military operations, this episode further damages Nigeria’s image and credibility. We must take it as a wake-up call — to end the culture of using the military for private ends and to build a security architecture guided by law, ethics, and national interest.
In conclusion, the land dispute debacle was avoidable. It was a product of indiscipline, miscommunication, and a dangerous culture of militarized governance. The FCT Minister’s intentions may have been good, but the optics were bad. The young naval officer’s actions may have been loyal, but they were misguided. The entire episode serves as a cautionary tale — that in governance, as in the military, power must always be exercised with restraint, and authority must always bow to legality.
*Bishop C. Johnson was U.S. Army Captain (Rtd), Security Strategist and Political Analyst
0 Comments