Rumours of a possible military intervention in Nigeria’s political landscape have recently gained troubling traction in online spaces and public conversations. For a country that has endured decades of authoritarian rule and fought tirelessly to reclaim democracy, these whispers are not only reckless — they are dangerous.
Nigeria has been here before.
Between 1966 and 1999, the military repeatedly interrupted democratic governance, often claiming to be correcting civilian failures. Yet each coup only deepened the nation’s wounds. The first military intervention in 1966 set off a chain of instability that led to the tragic civil war, costing more than a million lives and threatening the country’s very existence.
Subsequent coups brought little relief.
Economic mismanagement, corruption, political repression, and systematic abuse of human rights became familiar features of military regimes. Nigerians lived under the fear of decrees, curfews, arbitrary detentions, and the silencing of dissent. Newspapers were shut down. Journalists disappeared. Civil society voices were marked as enemies. Under dictatorship, Nigerians lost not just their freedoms but their dignity.
The darkest chapter of that era was undoubtedly the 1990s. The regime of General Sani Abacha left this nation traumatised. State-sponsored violence, assassinations of government critics, mass imprisonment, and the targeting of the press turned Nigeria into a pariah. We remember Ken Saro-Wiwa. We remember the June 12 struggle. We remember the families who lost loved ones simply because they wanted the right to vote freely.
Democracy did not come easily.
It took fearless pro-democracy movements, stubborn journalists who risked everything to publish the truth, and everyday Nigerians determined to reclaim their voice. The military did not hand democracy to the nation out of goodwill — Nigerians wrestled it back through resilience, sacrifice, and unity. That is why any suggestion of a return to military rule must be firmly rejected.
Yet today, coup rumours are being carelessly thrown around, amplified by frustration in a difficult economic climate and cynicism about Nigeria’s political leadership. There is no denying that citizens are hurting. Soaring prices, unemployment, insecurity, and the slow pace of reforms have created widespread discontent. Trust in government remains fragile.
But coups do not fix such problems — they worsen them.
Examples are nearby. Across the Sahel region, coups in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger were heralded as popular uprisings against weak governance. Instead, the result has been deepening insecurity, diplomatic isolation, economic sanctions, restricted freedoms, and media clampdowns. The promised quick solutions never arrived. The cycle of frustration continued.
Nigeria must learn from its neighbours — and from its own painful past.
Democracy, even with all its imperfections, gives citizens the power to demand accountability. It allows the media to question authority. It enables change through elections rather than through violence. It gives room for correction, innovation, and negotiation. Military rule eliminates those avenues entirely. Once soldiers take over, rights become privileges, granted only when they serve the convenience of those in uniform.
Our constitution is clear: the military exists to defend the nation and protect the democratic order — not overthrow it. The Armed Forces must remain politically neutral. Any attempt to undermine democracy must be met with swift legal consequences.
But elected leaders also have a duty.
When governance is poor, when insecurity persists for too long, when corruption remains unchecked, the dangerous nostalgia for authoritarian “efficiency” grows. The best antidote to coup speculation is good governance — visible improvements in the lives of citizens, respect for institutions, and decisions that reflect public interest. Political leaders must never forget that their performance — or lack of it — either strengthens democracy or feeds those who wish to see it fall.
Civil society, the media, labour unions, youth groups, and religious and traditional institutions all have a responsibility as well. They must speak up loudly and consistently: Nigeria must not return to its darkest days. Public awareness is critical. We must remind younger generations — especially those who did not experience life under dictatorship — of the high cost of losing freedom.
The point must be made without ambiguity. There is no justification — economic, political, or emotional — for a military takeover in Nigeria.
No amount of anger against the government should translate into an invitation to tyranny. To flirt with the idea of a coup is to play with matches near dry grass. The consequences are too grave for even a moment of indulgence.
