By Haroun Idris
There is, perhaps, no state in Nigeria that better symbolises the country's prolonged struggle with insecurity than Zamfara. For more than a decade, the state has been a theatre of banditry, mass kidnappings, village raids, cattle rustling, forced displacement and the collapse of rural economic life.
Entire communities have been emptied. Farmers have abandoned their lands. Families have paid unimaginable ransoms. Children have grown up under the constant threat of violence.
For many Nigerians, Zamfara is not merely a state on the map. It has become a symbol of what happens when insecurity overwhelms governance.
It is against this tragic backdrop that the controversy surrounding Bello Matawalle, former governor of Zamfara State and current Minister of State for Defence, continues to generate national debate.
Ordinarily, former governors move on from office and gradually fade from public controversy. Their records become matters for historians, political analysts and electoral judgment.
Matawalle's case has been different. Instead of receding into the background, his tenure continues to be the subject of fierce disputes, public allegations and growing questions about accountability.
The reason is simple. The wounds of Zamfara have not healed. The people who lived through years of insecurity are still searching for answers. The victims are still counting their losses. And many Nigerians remain unconvinced that the full story of what happened during the state's darkest years has been told.
This is why allegations made by Governor Dauda Lawal against his predecessor have resonated so strongly across the country.
Lawal has publicly alleged that Matawalle was involved in matters relating to banditry during his administration and has argued that information available to his government suggests a level of interaction between the former administration and bandit elements that deserves investigation.
Matawalle has vigorously denied these allegations and described them as false, politically motivated and unsupported by evidence.
In a healthy democracy, that should have been the beginning of a transparent process to establish facts. Instead, Nigeria has witnessed a familiar pattern. Allegation. Denial. Political counterattack. Media outrage. Then silence.
No comprehensive public clarification. No transparent independent review. No clear effort to reassure citizens that the claims have been thoroughly examined.
The result is that suspicion continues to thrive.
This failure reflects a larger problem within Nigerian politics. Too often, accountability is treated as a political weapon rather than a governance principle.
When allegations emerge against political opponents, they are amplified. When similar allegations emerge against allies, they are dismissed. When accusations are directed at powerful figures, the debate often shifts from determining facts to defending political interests.
The public becomes an observer to elite battles rather than a beneficiary of truth. This culture has done enormous damage to governance. It has encouraged the belief that power is not merely a means of public service but also a shield against scrutiny.
It has weakened confidence in institutions. Most dangerously, it has created an environment where citizens increasingly assume that the truth is less important than political loyalty.
The Matawalle controversy is a textbook example of this problem. The debate is no longer solely about whether particular allegations are true or false.
The debate has become a referendum on whether the Nigerian political system is capable of investigating serious concerns involving influential figures.
For President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, this should be deeply troubling. The President inherited a country already suffering from severe trust deficits.
Years of corruption scandals, failed reforms, insecurity and political polarization have left many citizens sceptical of official explanations.
Trust in institutions has become one of Nigeria's scarcest political resources. That is why every major controversy involving senior officials must be handled carefully.
Transparency should be the default response. Unfortunately, the handling of the Matawalle issue has produced the opposite impression. The presidency appears content to allow the matter to remain unresolved.
That approach may provide short-term political comfort, but it carries long-term risks. One of those risks is the perception that political importance determines accountability. Many Nigerians have begun to ask uncomfortable questions.
Would the government react differently if these allegations involved an opposition politician? Would security agencies show greater urgency if the individual concerned lacked political influence?
Would the public be expected to remain patient if the office involved were less strategically important? These questions may be uncomfortable, but they cannot simply be ignored.
Perception matters. In politics, perceptions shape reality. The perception that some individuals enjoy protection while others face scrutiny undermines confidence in government.
The perception that allegations are investigated selectively damages institutional credibility. And the perception that power overrides accountability weakens democracy itself. The tragedy is that this controversy unfolds against the backdrop of real human suffering.
Banditry in Zamfara is not an abstract policy issue. It is not merely a topic for newspaper columns or television debates. It is a lived reality. There are families who lost loved ones.
There are communities that no longer exist in their original form. There are children who missed years of education.
There are farmers who abandoned generations-old livelihoods. There are women who still live with trauma from violent attacks. There are local economies that remain crippled by insecurity. For these citizens, political arguments are secondary. What they seek is accountability.
They want answers. They want reassurance that lessons have been learned. They want confidence that the people entrusted with national security understand the gravity of their suffering. This is where the controversy surrounding Matawalle becomes especially significant.
Today, he serves in the Federal Ministry of Defence. That reality elevates the importance of the debate. If he were merely a former governor, the controversy might remain largely confined to Zamfara politics.
But as a serving defence minister, he occupies a position directly connected to the national response to insecurity. The standards applied to such an office must therefore be exceptionally high. The issue is not legal guilt. The issue is public confidence.
A defence minister should ideally command broad trust. He should be viewed as a figure capable of uniting public opinion around security objectives. He should symbolize competence, credibility and institutional integrity.
When controversy dominates public discussion about a senior security official, that objective becomes more difficult to achieve. This is not unique to Nigeria.
Across democratic societies, governments frequently ask ministers to step aside temporarily when serious controversies arise—not because guilt has been established, but because institutions must be protected from reputational damage.
Such actions are often described as accountability measures rather than punishments. Unfortunately, Nigeria has not consistently embraced this culture.
Instead, resignation is often viewed as an admission of guilt. As a result, public officials remain in office while controversies deepen and public trust declines. The country pays a heavy price for this approach.
The longer serious questions remain unanswered, the more difficult it becomes to restore confidence. This is why President Tinubu should view the Matawalle controversy as an opportunity rather than a threat.
An independent review would serve multiple purposes. It would demonstrate respect for public concern. It would provide clarity. It would allow evidence rather than speculation to guide public debate.
Most importantly, it would reinforce the principle that public office carries responsibilities as well as privileges. Some supporters of the minister may argue that responding to allegations encourages political blackmail.
This argument misunderstands accountability. Accountability is not a concession to opponents. It is a duty owed to citizens. If allegations are false, a transparent process can expose them. If allegations contain merit, appropriate action can follow.
Either outcome strengthens institutions. What weakens institutions is avoidance. What weakens institutions is silence. What weakens institutions is the appearance that political considerations outweigh public interest. Nigeria cannot afford that perception.
The country faces too many challenges already.
Security threats remain significant. Economic pressures continue to strain households. Public trust remains fragile. At such a moment, the government must demonstrate an unwavering commitment to transparency.
The Matawalle controversy is therefore about far more than one politician. It is about the culture of accountability within the Nigerian state. It is about whether institutions exist to protect citizens or political elites.
It is about whether public office holders are prepared to answer difficult questions. And ultimately, it is about whether the suffering of ordinary people is important enough to justify uncomfortable scrutiny of powerful figures.
The people of Zamfara deserve answers. The victims of insecurity deserve answers. Nigeria deserves answers. And until those answers are provided through credible and transparent processes, the controversy surrounding Bello Matawalle is unlikely to disappear.
It will continue to return. It will continue to raise questions. And it will continue to challenge the credibility of those who believe political loyalty should matter more than accountability.
In the end, accountability delayed is rarely accountability denied forever. Sooner or later, every democracy must confront its unanswered questions. The Matawalle question is one of them.
*Idris is a student of power and politics and lives in Abuja
0 Comments