State of the Nation.....TINUBU’S FOREST GUARD: WHO WILL GUARD THE GUARD? (Part 1)..

 

BY PROF MIKE OZEKHOME, SAN, CON, OFR, FCIArb, LL.D

INTRODUCTION

WHEN THE FOREST HIDES MORE THAN TREES

To paraphrase an old African proverb, “when the forest is silent, beware, it may be plotting”. Nigeria’s forests are no longer just a canopy of trees sheltering wildlife and whispering winds; they have become a theatre of terror. Armed bandits, kidnappers and insurgents have “discovered” what ancient wisdom already knew: that the forest is the perfect hideout. In response, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu has proposed a bold and ostensibly visionary plan, the deployment of a national forest guard corps. This move has since sparked hope, skepticism, and fierce federalism-versus-unitarism debates.

At the heart of this strategy is the ambition to reclaim over 1, 129 forest reserves scattered across Nigeria’s sprawling terrain, most of which now serve as havens for terrorists and criminal syndicates. With over 130,000 armed operatives to be recruited and deployed, it is easy to view this initiative as the long-overdue solution to Nigeria’s security woes. But this move is not just about logistics and boots in the bush; it is about sovereignty, legality, and local legitimacy. Is Tinubu’s forest guard plan a federal solution to a national emergency, or is it an ill-fated centralization of local security challenges, enabling the federal government to breath down the necks of State governments?

To answer this, we must examine the legal, constitutional, and operational frameworks of Tinubu’s initiative, evaluate historical precedents, and analyze the potential risks of imposing a federally controlled paramilitary force in forests that historically and legally belong to the states. We must also interrogate whether security can be bought with arms alone; or whether it grows from the grass roots up. 

But before we venture into the thicket of policy and power, let us consider the context that birthed this proposal. Nigeria’s forests, which were once ecological sanctuaries, have gradually degenerated into lawless zones of bloodbath. The green expanse that should echo with bird calls and animal grunts now reverberate with gunfire. Insecurity in rural and agrarian communities has reached such alarming heights that farmers have virtually abandoned their lands, leading to food insecurity, economic stagnation, and mass displacement. The forests no longer nurture life; they generate death.

BETWEEN POLICY AND IMPLEMENTATION

The government’s decision to respond with a large-scale recruitment of forest guards may indeed seem intuitive, after all, it aligns with the global trend of ecological militarization in fragile states. Yet, the structure of implementation matters deeply. If the architecture of this plan disregards Nigeria’s federal nature, it risks exacerbating the very crisis it was intended to solve. Forests may be rooted in soil; but the guardianship of that soil is rooted in law, identity, and community ownership. The principle of quic quid plantatur solo solo cedit applies. Forest guards who do not share the language, culture, history or kinship of the terrains they are sent to police will surely be seen as outsiders. And such outsiders in the forest may become either victims or villains.

Furthermore, this proposal arrives at a critical moment in Nigeria’s democratic evolution. Debates over state and community policing, restructuring, devolution of powers and regional autonomy are no longer intellectual abstractions; they have become national imperatives. See sections 215 and 216 of the 1999 Constitution. Tinubu’s plan whether deliberately or inadvertently, intersects with these gaping fault lines. To superimpose a federally-managed forest force without recognizing the nuanced relationships between state, land and community is to risk uprooting fragile peace and replacing it with more severe antagonism.

Now, are we really a federation in truth or merely in name? I dare say what we operate in the guise of federalism is actually a unitary form of government. Can national unity be enforced through uniformed patrols, or is it better than it be cultivated through shared values and governance? As we delve deeper, the question is not just who guards the forest, but who decides who guards the forest, and in whose name. Indeed, a deeper question: Who will guard the Guard?

THE FOREST, THE FEDERALIST AND THE FEDERATION

CONSTITUTIONAL REALITIES: THE POWER OF THE STATES OVER FORESTS

In any federal system, the distribution of power especially over land and internal security is a defining hallmark. Nigeria’s federalism is no exception. The country’s current structure, codified under the 1999 Constitution (as amended), clearly delineates the powers of federal, state and local governments.See sections 2(2),3(1-6) of the 1999 Constitution. A close reading of section 7 and the Fourth Schedule ( paragraph 2( b) to the Constitution highlights the responsibilities of Local Government Councils, including the control and regulation of agricultural and natural resources and by extension, includes forest land not reserved to the Federal Government. This immediately places forests, by default, under the control of the states, unless specifically designated otherwise,since Local Governments are located in states.

Furthermore, the Land Use Act,1978, which is incorporated into the Constitution by reference (section 315), gives state governors control over all lands within their territory, excluding those under federal use, to hold them in trust for the people of their States. The Act empowers governors to allocate land in urban areas to individuals and organizations, and to oversee the use of non-urban land through Local Government Councils. Consequently, the direct implication is that any forest or land not classified under national parks, Federal Reserve zones, or military controlled areas, falls squarely under the jurisdiction of the state.

FEDERAL V. STATE POWER

Of Nigeria’s 1, 129 officially gazetted forest reserves, the vast majority are managed by state forestry departments under their ministries of agriculture, rural development or environment. These include large forest blocks in states like Cross River, Ondo, Ogun, Taraba, and Ekiti, many of which are vital to local economies, ecological sustainability, and food security. The federal government only controls forest areas designated as National Parks(such as Gashaka-Gumti National Park, Kainji Lake National Park, Cross River National Park, and Old Oyo National Park), administered under the National Park Service, an agency of the Federal Ministry of Environment.

Attempts to impose direct federal recruitment and control over forest guards in state-managed forests without legislative amendments or formal agreements risk violating both the spirit and letter of the law. Even within the federal legislative framework, forest policing is not explicitly listed on the Exclusive Legislative List, meaning that it falls under either the Concurrent List (shared responsibilities between the federal and states) or, in most practical scenarios, the Residual List, which is left to states’ discretion.

UNITARISM IN DISGUISE?: THE DANGER OF A FEDERAL PARAMILITARY FORCE

Unitarism masquerading as federal security cooperation is a deeply sensitive issue in Nigeria, where ethnic plurality, historical grievances, and political mistrust run deep. The idea that over 130,000 armed operatives could be centrally recruited, trained, and deployed under federal command while ostensibly operating within state territories is understandably alarming to many stakeholders. It evokes painful memories of other federally-controlled agencies that have operated with little or no regard for local dynamics and often with tragic consequences.

The Special Anti-Robbery Squad (SARS) is a case in point. Established as a unit within the Nigeria Police Force, SARS was accused of gross human rights violations, including extra-judicial killings, torture, and extortion. Its federal command structure meant little accountability to state governments or communities. The #EndSARS protests of 2020, which began as youth-led demands for police reforms, quickly morphed into a broader call for systemic change, highlighting the dangers of over-centralized security control architecture.

Similarly, the Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC), while useful in its community protection mandate, has often been accused of operational inefficiencies and jurisdictional clashes with state authorities. Cases of NSCDC operatives acting with impunity or engaging in power struggles with local law enforcement agents are well documented.

Against this backdrop, Tinubu’s forest guard plan raises critical concerns. How can a federal command effectively manage such a force across diverse terrains, languages, and cultures without falling into the same trap of over-centralization and under-accountability? What happens when these guards act outside the law, or when federal and state authorities disagree on deployment priorities? Who investigates complaints of misconduct, especially in remote rural areas? Who has the final say?

These questions are not merely theoretical. In countries with similar federal structures, such as India and the United States, forest protection and environmental policing are almost always handled at the state or provincial level, often under decentralized bureaucracies with state-specific laws and enforcement mechanisms. For instance, India’s Forest Protection Committees are embedded in local governance structures, while U.S. State Park Rangers operate independently of federal policing units unless specific interstate or federal crimes are involved.

Nigeria’s own federal structure should offer no less sophistication. The creation of another federal paramilitary force, especially one that operates deep in the natives’ forests without local allegiance or accountability, risks becoming not a solution but a security liability and worse, a political tool in the hands of a powerful centre.

INDIGENOUS SECURITY MODELS: THE CASE FOR LOCAL RECRUITMENT

The wisdom of local recruitment is both practical and cultural. Insecurity in Nigeria’s forests is not just about guns and patrols, it is about intelligence, relationships and trust. Bandits and criminal syndicates thrive in environments where locals are alienated from the security structure. Conversely, they are more easily repelled when local vigilantes, hunters and indigenous operatives form part of the security fabric.

The Nigerian Hunter and Forest Security Service (NHFSS), which operates across the 36 states and the FCT Abuja, provides a compelling model. Comprised largely of traditional hunters and forest dwellers, the NHFSS brings a unique blend of tactical expertise and cultural affinity. In states like Kogi, Kebbi and the FCT, NHFSS operatives have been instrumental in intercepting kidnap gangs, uncovering illegal encampments, and collaborating with security agencies. Their effectiveness is rooted not in superior weaponry, but in their deep understanding of their peculiar terrain, their loyalty to the community, and the trust they command from locals.

A retired Army General, Peter Aro, hailed the development as a critical step in addressing rising insecurity within Nigeria’s forested regions, particularly the scourge of banditry, kidnapping, and insurgency. Forest guards must possess field survival skills, terrain literacy, and community integration. These are not qualities one can mass-produce in Abuja through crash course training programmes. Furthermore, security should be intimately linked to traditional institutions, such as village heads, district councils, and traditional rulers, who provide crucial intelligence and moral authority.

Security analyst Chidi Omeje has also pointed out the danger of sending “fresh recruits with basic firearms” into forest zones where criminal elements are known to possess military-grade weapons. He advocates for a dual-layered model, where locally embedded forest guards work alongside the military and police but under local command structures.

There are also precedents for success. The Amotekun Corps in the South West, and the Benue Community Volunteer Guards, are examples of locally-driven initiatives that have shown promising results. While not without their challenges, these corps are better attuned to the local environment and have the legitimacy to act swiftly in ways that federal forces cannot.

Furthermore, a decentralized approach would stimulate local economies. Recruitment of indigenes provides employment, instills civic pride and strengthens the social contract bond. It also ensures that the guards see themselves as protectors, not as occupiers, a distinction that is vital in volatile communities where the line between security agent and aggressor is often thin.

In summary, while the federal government has a legitimate role in coordinating national responses to threats, its approach must be that of a facilitator, not a commander. Support through training, funding, surveillance technology (e.g., drones, forest mapping systems), and standard setting is invaluable. But command and control must remain at the state level, rooted in the soil, culture, language, idiosyncrasies and rhythms of the communities the guards are sworn to protect. (To be continued).

• Prof Mike Ozekhome SAN CON OFR sent this piece to Cerutti Media Group from his Abuja Nigeria base