Prominent politicians and business figures are preparing to seek protection from the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC) after President Bola Ahmed Tinubu ordered the withdrawal of more than 11,500 police officers from VIP escort duty—a move framed as a decisive shift toward community policing amid spiralling kidnappings, rural banditry, and violent crime.
Announcing the redeployment in Abuja, Inspector-General of Police Kayode Egbetokun insisted the order was neither punitive nor political but a necessary refocus of policing priorities.
“The withdrawal is not a retreat from responsibility, but a reclamation of it,” he said, confirming that 11,566 personnel previously guarding politicians and private citizens would return to frontline security roles.
The police chief argued the measure would strengthen intelligence gathering, rural surveillance and rapid response capacity — particularly in the North, where abductions in Kwara, Kebbi and Niger have intensified. He cited thousands of arrests secured in recent months as evidence that redeployment could improve operational outcomes.
But as the policy takes effect, early signs suggest implementation may be uneven. Insiders say that some officers quietly returned to VIP posts within days, with one source noting:
“Those on VIP duties are returning… I saw some of them today.”
Power without protection? VIPs push back—or pivot
Among those affected are former SDP presidential candidate Prince Adewole Adebayo and suspended PDP National Secretary Samuel Anyanwu, whose police details were abruptly withdrawn. Adebayo appeared this week accompanied by NSCDC personnel and private guards; Anyanwu confirmed he has already applied to the NSCDC for replacement escorts.
“How can I be using private guards?” he asked. “I am entitled to police escorts. But I even prefer NSCDC—they are well trained too.”
Not everyone accepts the change quietly. APC South-East Vice Chairman Dr Ijeoma Arodiogbu warned that stripping politicians of security risks creating new security threats instead of solving old ones.
“VIPs are prime targets,” he said. “I don’t think the IGP will implement all of it.”
Others, however, argue that elite protection in Nigeria has long been excessive. PDP Deputy National Youth Leader Tim Osadolor called for a cultural shift:
“Let everybody including the president learn to move without escorts.”
Senator Ali Ndume, one of the strongest supporters of the policy, went further — revealing he personally turned down additional police orderlies.
“Some ministers have officers attached to their wives and children. What’s their business with that?” he asked.
A nation divided on safety — and who deserves it
While many lawmakers cheered the reform, others warned the directive was “unrealistic”. House Majority Leader Julius Ihonvbere called for clarity, arguing that officials working in high-risk regions require state-sanctioned protection to carry out their duties safely.
“I can fly to Benin, but I cannot drive to my constituency without security,” he said. “That road is a danger zone.”
Amid the debate, another solution surfaced — arm civilians. Senator Francis Fadahunsi urged legislation allowing “responsible Nigerians” to carry weapons, noting over 120 countries have legalised public gun ownership. Within 24 hours, the Senate introduced a bill classifying all kidnapping as terrorism and mandating the death penalty for offenders.
Private security prepares for its biggest moment in decades
As state protection tightens, the private security sector is positioning itself to fill the gap. The Association of Licensed Private Security Practitioners of Nigeria called for modernisation of a 38-year-old regulatory law to align with evolving threats, including cybercrime, surveillance technology and environmental security.
Retired Maj. Gen. Elvis Njoku, speaking for the association, said the sector is at a “pivotal juncture”:
“We must update the Private Guard Companies Act to reflect today’s realities.”
The new era of security: equitable or elitist by another name?
The withdrawal of police escorts marks a watershed in Nigeria’s security architecture — one that may reshape the balance between state protection and private defence. But whether the reform restores policing to the public or simply redirects protection to the wealthiest remains unresolved.
For now, one thing is clear: in a country where both ordinary citizens and the elite feel unsafe, the question is no longer whether officers should leave VIP corridors, but who gets to remain protected when everyone is vulnerable.
