Emmanuel Addeh writes that after more than a decade of relentless conflict and a seemingly battle-weary military, it may be time for Nigeria to broaden its options, including hiring private military contractors, otherwise known as mercenaries, to strengthen the onslaught against the marauders in the North.

Nigeria’s struggle against insecurity, by whatever nomenclature, has become a grinding war of attrition. Despite repeated assurances from successive administrations, billions in defence spending, and ongoing regional military cooperation, armed groups like the so-called herdsmen, bandits, Boko Haram and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) remain deadly and deeply entrenched.

For instance, Benue state has now become a killing field. Once a thriving agricultural hub in Nigeria’s Middle Belt, it continues to reel from a wave of unrelenting violence that has plunged many of its communities into chaos and mourning.  What began years ago as occasional flare-ups over land disputes and grazing rights has now hardened into a pattern of calculated attacks.

The most horrifying episode occurred at the weekend when the quiet village of Yelewata in Guma Local Government Area came under a savage attack. Dozens of armed assailants simply descended on the community, setting homes ablaze and shooting indiscriminately.  By the time the chaos ended, at least 200 people were dead.

The attackers have often been described by locals as herdsmen or bandits. That line is now becoming increasingly blurred. These guys are simply terrorists. There is no other way to sugarcoat it. Whichever way one looks at it, Benue’s insecurity is no longer just a local tragedy, it has become a national emergency.

Elsewhere, from Zamfara to Jos to Borno, a state of helplessness appears to be creeping in. Attacks on civilians, soldiers, and aid workers continue to make headlines, while whole communities live under siege or are displaced.

Currently confronting one of its most difficult chapters in recent history, the military now finds itself stretched dangerously thin across a growing web of internal security challenges.

Once focused primarily on defending the nation’s borders and handling conventional threats, the armed forces are now heavily embroiled in a range of domestic operations, from counterterrorism in the North-east, to anti-banditry campaigns in the North-west, to suppressing secessionist unrest in the South-east. This multipronged deployment has left the military overstretched, both in manpower and logistics. 

In this context, the idea of hiring foreign military contractors, commonly referred to as mercenaries, has re-entered national discourse. Though controversial, it is not without precedent.

Not Novel

In 2014–2015 under the Goodluck Jonathan administration, although kept discreet, a private South African firm helped turn the tide against Boko Haram during a brief but highly effective campaign, before being abruptly withdrawn due to political pressure. Their departure was quickly followed by a resurgence in militant activity.

Now, as the insurgency evolves and metastasizes into wider insecurity across Nigeria’s North-west and central regions, the question must be confronted head-on: is it not time to prioritise results over pride?

Back to Jonathan, in the final months of his administration, as the insurgents gained significant ground in the North-east, seizing towns, displacing civilians, and threatening the integrity of Nigeria’s territorial sovereignty, he authorised the hiring of the group of foreign military contractors to assist in the fight.

Operating under a secret arrangement, they brought with them battlefield experience, specialised equipment, and mobility, ably backed by the Nigerian military. Their role, though never officially acknowledged in detail by the government, was largely focused on reconnaissance, coordination, and direct combat support, particularly using attack helicopters and ground tactics suited to asymmetric warfare.

The results were immediate and striking. Within weeks of their engagement in early 2015, Nigerian forces backed by these contractors began to push Boko Haram out of captured territories. Towns previously considered lost were recaptured.

The momentum of the insurgency was significantly reversed, setting the stage for relatively peaceful general elections that year. It was widely believed that the involvement of these mercenaries helped the military reclaim vital areas in Borno, Yobe, and Adamawa states during a period when public confidence in the security services was dangerously low.

Buhari’s Call

However, the operation was cut short when MuhammaduBuhari who took office in May 2015  declined to renew the mercenaries’ contract, citing concerns about transparency, legality, and sovereignty.

Soon after, the pace of military progress against Boko Haram slowed, and insurgent activity began to shift and evolve rather than disappear, with factions like ISWAP emerging stronger in the years that followed. Till today, many analysts believe that the military contractors should have been allowed to finish what they started.

Although Jonathan’s decision remains a point of debate, with supporters arguing that it was a bold, pragmatic move that delivered rapid security dividends when Nigeria had no time to waste, critics, on the other hand, questioned the secrecy of the operation and the implications of outsourcing national security to foreign fighters.

Nonetheless, it stands as one of the clearest examples in West Africa of a state using private military expertise to regain the upper hand in a seemingly intractable conflict and a case that continues to inform discussions on the merits and risks of hiring mercenaries in times of national crisis.

Lessons from Elsewhere

Throughout modern conflicts, a number of countries have turned to foreign mercenaries or private military contractors as a last resort when faced with security crises that overwhelmed national forces. In some cases, these decisions led to swift and dramatic improvements on the battlefield, forcing a recalibration of how nations view the role of non-state actors in warfare.

In the 1990s, Sierra Leone found itself engulfed in a brutal civil war, with the capital under threat and the national army unable to halt the advance of the Revolutionary United Front (RUF).

It was in this moment of near-collapse that the government turned to Executive Outcomes, a South African private military company staffed by former soldiers with experience in counter-insurgency.

Within weeks, these mercenaries helped drive the rebels out of key territories, secured critical infrastructure, and restored a semblance of control to a country on the edge of disintegration. Their swift success stood in stark contrast to the earlier failures of both local forces and international peacekeepers.

A similar pattern unfolded in Angola, where government forces struggling against the UNITA rebel movement brought in mercenaries in the mid-1990s. With their support, the Angolan military regained vital oil fields and diamond mines that had been funding the insurgency. The presence of the contractors helped tip the balance of power and created the conditions necessary for peace talks.

In Colombia, the government’s long fight against FARC guerrillas and powerful drug cartels was reinforced by the strategic deployment of foreign contractors, particularly through US-backed initiatives. While not mercenaries in the strictest sense, private firms  played an essential role in training Colombian troops, gathering intelligence, and carrying out aerial surveillance. This external support helped the Colombian state gradually regain control over regions that had long been lawless and contested.

Even the United States is reported to have used the services of mercenaries. For instance, countries like Iraq and Afghanistan became major theatres for the use of private security and military contractors, particularly by the United States and its allies.

These contractors guarded key installations, supported logistics, and supplemented conventional troops in ways that blurred the lines between soldier and civilian. Although controversial and often criticised for lack of accountability, their role in sustaining security operations was undeniable.

More recently, Mozambique turned to foreign assistance amid a rising Islamist insurgency in its northern province of Cabo Delgado. Initially contracting a Russian outfit, and later a South African Group, the government sought to contain the spread of violence in remote and difficult terrain. While coordination and sustainability proved challenging, the move reflected a growing willingness among African governments to outsource key aspects of national defense when traditional methods fall short.

These cases, diverse in geography and circumstance, all point to a common reality: when national armies reach their limits and external support is slow or ineffective, governments sometimes find that the controversial option of hiring mercenaries offers immediate, if temporary, relief.

The success of such efforts often hinges not only on firepower, but also on clarity of mission, local coordination, and the political will to follow military gains with long-term stability measures.

Reigniting the Debate

In the last few months, as Nigeria continues to battle worsening insecurity across multiple regions, a number of prominent voices have reignited the conversation about deploying mercenaries to assist in the fight against insurgents, bandits, and other armed groups.

Among the most vocal has been Ahmed Jaha, a member of the House of Representatives from Borno State, one of the areas hardest hit by Boko Haram. In a passionate plea on the floor of the House recently, Jaha called on the federal government to consider bringing in military contractors.

“We need to swallow our pride and accept that security agencies have failed Nigerians. During Goodluck Jonathan’s administration, the mercenaries almost wiped out Boko Haram insurgents in a matter of weeks,” he added.

Besides, Security analyst, Ben Okezie, sometime ago, echoed similar sentiments. He argued that the idea of hiring foreign fighters should not be dismissed out of hand. “There is nothing wrong with engaging mercenaries to assist the military,” he said. “Fighting terrorism requires international support. These are not ordinary criminals, they are part of a transnational network,” Okezie maintained. He pointed to successful examples elsewhere in Africa, noting that Nigeria’s conflict has grown too complex to be resolved by conventional means alone.

Governor BabaganaZulum of Borno State had also at a point supported the return of professional military contractors. He has repeatedly emphasised that during the brief period when South African mercenaries were deployed in 2015, Boko Haram lost ground rapidly and key towns were liberated. The sentiment among many in the North-east is that the decision to terminate their involvement may have come at too high a cost.

In April 2022, then-Governor of Kaduna State, Nasir El-Rufai, publicly expressed deep frustration with the persistent security failures in Nigeria’s North-West, particularly the inability of federal security forces to roundly contain banditry and insurgency. He warned that if the federal government failed to take decisive action, he and other governors might be forced to “bring in mercenaries” to defend their people.

El-Rufai’s remarks followed a string of deadly attacks, including the brazen assault on a train between Abuja and Kaduna, which left many dead, injured, or kidnapped. He argued that the state governments had a constitutional duty to protect citizens and could no longer wait endlessly for federal solutions.

Although not everyone agrees with this trajectory, what is clear from these varying positions is that the debate is no longer theoretical. It is shaped by real consequences, by towns burned, families displaced, and soldiers outmatched.

As insecurity deepens and faith in conventional solutions wavers, the question is no longer whether mercenaries are controversial. The question, increasingly, is whether Nigeria can afford not to consider them.

No Qualms

President Bola Tinubu may have little to fear politically or constitutionally if he approves the deployment of mercenaries to support Nigeria’s overstretched security forces, so long as the decision is grounded in transparency, legality, and a clear operational mandate.

At this critical point in Nigeria’s battle against insecurity, the case for decisive, even unconventional action is strong, and history offers important context for such a move.

As argued before, Jonathan discreetly engaged foreign military contractors in 2014–2015 to support operations against Boko Haram. That intervention, though unofficial at the time, yielded rapid and measurable success.

Towns in Borno and Yobe were recaptured, and Boko Haram’s momentum was temporarily reversed, proving that well-coordinated foreign support can deliver immediate battlefield advantages. Tinubu would not be inventing a new model, but building on what has previously worked in dire circumstances.

Secondly, public sentiment in many parts of the country, particularly in the North-east and North-west is shifting in favour of results over process, as communities continue to live under the constant threat of violence, and with local military units often under-resourced.

The priority for millions of Nigerians now is peace and safety, not the passport of those who help secure it. If mercenaries are deployed with proper oversight and deliver results, the move is more likely to earn public approval than backlash.

Constitutionally, the President, as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, has wide discretion over how national security is managed. So long as the deployment of foreign contractors is done through formal channels, whether as technical advisers, security consultants, or tactical support specialists, it falls within the executive’s purview.

What matters is accountability, not nationality. Tinubu’s administration can insulate itself from legal challenges by ensuring that such contractors operate under Nigerian military supervision, with clear rules of engagement.

Furthermore, Tinubu has a chance to distinguish himself from his predecessor, especially Buhari, by acting boldly where others hesitated. The security situation he inherited is not only complex, but worsening. In some areas, the state has effectively lost control.

To ignore alternative approaches is not prudence, it is paralysis. In contrast, authorising a focused and time-bound mercenary operation would signal a leader willing to embrace innovation, prioritise human lives, and break with ineffective orthodoxy.

Of course, caution is needed. Mercenary operations must not be a substitute for institutional reform, and their use should be framed as a stopgap measure while Nigeria continues to train, equip, and restructure its own security forces. But fear of criticism should not outweigh the responsibility to protect citizens.

In the end, Tinubu has political capital and constitutional authority on his side. What he must summon now is the courage to act before the country’s security crisis slips further beyond reach.