As insecurity worsens, especially the invasion of forests and highways by terrorists and bandits, the federal government has been on an endless search for a solution to the menace. The proposed Forest Security Establishment Law is one such move, even though there are doubts about the funding, coordination, and successful operation of the outfit. AMEH OCHOJILA reports that the proposed forest security outfit risks becoming another siloed effort unless it is properly integrated into the broader national security architecture.

As Nigeria grapples with worsening insecurity, the newly proposed Forest Security Establishment Law seeks to fill a long-ignored gap – the absence of a structured security presence within the nation’s vast and largely ungoverned forests.
 
Nigeria’s forests span an estimated 10 million hectares, accounting for about 10 per cent of the country’s land mass. These forests stretch from the savannahs of the North through the tropical rainforests of the South, providing perfect cover for bandits, kidnappers, arms traffickers, and insurgents. The Sambisa Forest alone (one of the most notorious in Nigeria) spans over 60,000 square kilometres.

While the intent of the bill and presidential proclamation is laudable, questions persist over its feasibility, especially when compared to similar failed ventures, the opaque funding pipeline, and the sheer scale of the terrain intended to be secured.

The forest security initiative, as outlined, envisions a specialised force trained to patrol, monitor, and respond to security threats emanating from forest regions. Its proposed structure includes operatives trained in forest combat, surveillance, and rapid response, working in synergy with conventional security agencies. The initiative also proposes a federal-state collaborative model, allowing for regional flexibility.

That said, Nigeria’s security history is replete with outfits that failed to make a tangible impact, either due to poor coordination, lack of political will, or unsustainable financing. Notably, the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) in the North-East, though initially effective, became mired in controversies over arms proliferation, accountability issues, and non-payment of allowances. 

Over the past two decades, Nigeria has witnessed a rapid multiplication of security outfits at federal, state, and community levels, with each established to address a specific aspect of the country’s unending security challenges. 

Yet, despite their numbers, violent crime, terrorism, banditry, kidnapping, oil theft, and communal violence have continued unabated, if not worsened. 

Nigeria today has no fewer than 16 formal and semi-formal security outfits. These include the Nigerian Army, Nigerian Navy, Nigerian Air Force, Nigeria Police Force (NPF), Department of State Services (DSS), Nigeria Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC), National Intelligence Agency (NIA), Defence Intelligence Agency (DIA), and the Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC), which performs para-military functions.

Others are the Nigeria Immigration Service (NIS), Nigeria Customs Service (NCS), which also carries out anti-smuggling security roles; the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC), which is often involved in security intelligence, and the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA), which is increasingly playing a role in counterterrorism intelligence. 

Additionally, there are regional and community-based outfits such as the Amotekun Corps in the South-West, Ebube Agu in the South-East, and the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF), mainly operating in Borno and Yobe states in the North-East.

This excludes thousands of poorly regulated private security firms, state-level vigilantes, community police outfits, and ethnic or faith-based militias operating under various guises.

The multiplicity of outfits has created a patchwork of agencies with overlapping mandates but little coordination. For example, both the police and NSCDC claim authority over internal security, while the DSS and NIA overlap in intelligence gathering. Regional security networks like Amotekun and Ebube Agu operate with ambiguous legal backing and often clash with federal institutions. This fragmentation dilutes accountability, breeds inter-agency rivalry, and undermines operational coherence.

According to Victor Idajili, a development expert, the proliferation of security outfits in Nigeria has failed to produce commensurate security dividends. Instead of creating new agencies or uniforms, he said, the government must invest in reforming, retraining, and realigning existing institutions under a coherent national doctrine. He said the focus must shift from expansion to effectiveness, with transparency, accountability, and strategic foresight driving the future of security governance. Nigeria, he noted, risks drowning in uniforms while its citizens remain unsafe.

Similarly, state-backed vigilante groups like Amotekun and Ebube Agu, while being celebrated for regional relevance, have struggled with funding, inter-agency rivalry, and allegations of extrajudicial killings.

The proposed forest security outfit risks becoming another siloed effort unless it is properly integrated into the broader national security architecture, with clearly defined mandates and oversight mechanisms.

Perhaps one of the most pressing concerns is where funds for the effective operation of the proposed agency will come from, since the country’s defence and internal security budgets are already stretched, with billions allocated yearly yielding questionable outcomes.

According to Fidelis Umar Abel, a finance expert, without a clear funding framework, which must necessarily be beyond rhetorical commitments, the forest security establishment could join the queue of underfunded security experiments.

Questions are also being asked whether the federal government can effectively shoulder the responsibility of paying salaries, equipment procurement, forest mapping technologies, drones, and training logistics if states do not bear a part of the cost. Another question that has remained unanswered is whether private-sector partnerships will be encouraged or whether international donors will be tapped to support.

There are strong convictions that without a statutory financial provision, or a ring-fenced fund, the forest security project may be undermined by the same fiscal negligence that has crippled other national programmes.

Given the vastness of the country’s forests as reflected above, the logistics for monitoring and policing the forests present a colossal challenge. Ground patrols alone will be insufficient. Advanced surveillance drones, satellite imagery, and thermal sensors would be essential. But this has serious cost implications, demanding a level of investment and coordination that Nigeria has historically struggled to sustain.

No doubt, if effectively structured, staff professionally trained, and outfitted adequately, the forest security outfit could offer a proactive approach to Nigeria’s security crisis by preempting attacks, eliminating forest-based criminal sanctuaries, and ensuring states’ control over ungoverned territories. This would have a ripple effect on food security, rural development, and environmental conservation.

Idajili specifically warned that if rushed, politicised, or under-resourced, it could become yet another symbolic gesture – absorbing funds without delivering security.
 
Among other things, the Forest Security Establishment Law, he said, reflects a growing recognition that Nigeria’s forests are not just ecological assets, but security liabilities when left ungoverned. So, planned actions and plans must meet realism.

Learning from past failures, ensuring accountability, and embedding the outfit in a national security strategy with dedicated funding and robust oversight, Idajili added, will determine whether this venture curbs insecurity or becomes another forgotten promise in Nigeria’s long fight for peace.

Patrick Aricko Inah, a retired operative of the Department of State Services (DSS), called for a critical evaluation of the long-term implications of establishing a forest guard.

He expressed concern that herders who have been responsible for terror attacks across forests in the country are already deeply familiar with the terrain. As such, he warned that without proper training and equipment, forest guards could suffer heavy casualties.

Instead of creating a separate security outfit, Inah recommended the establishment of a state police system under the control of state governors, who would receive regular security briefings and be better positioned to coordinate responses and engage the right stakeholders in defusing critical security threats.

Already, the Presidency has directed that the Ministry of Environment and the Office of the National Security Adviser (ONSA) would be the lead supervisory agencies over the new outfit. However, observers are of the view that this is a decision fraught with operational contradictions and structural risks.

According to a development expert, Emmanuel Audu, if Nigeria is truly committed to building an agile, effective, and mission-driven security outfit, it should be under the concurrent oversight of two of the country’s organisations. “Dual control fosters confusion in the chain of command, invites inter-agency turf wars, and complicates procurement, recruitment, and internal governance. This is not speculative; it is a reality that has plagued many joint administrative efforts in Nigeria’s past,” he said.

He also argued that forests are not just environmental assets; they are now critical national security theatres and also serve as sanctuaries for insurgents, corridors for arms trafficking, and havens for organised crime.

While the Ministry of Environment can provide institutional cover and sectoral expertise, the ONSA’s core mandate is high-level intelligence coordination, not operational control of paramilitary outfits.

Contradictorily, under the National Security Agencies Act, the NSA is not designed to manage recruitment or the day-to-day affairs of operational field agencies. It coordinates intelligence, advises the president, and harmonises national threat responses. Handing it direct operational responsibility over the NFSS is an overreach that threatens to dilute its strategic focus and burden it with duties beyond its scope.

There is also fear of politicisation, which could affect its operational integrity, emerging from political appointments or bureaucratic manuals. Security observers argued that if the goal is to institutionalise the NFSS as a professional, community-rooted, and operationally efficient force, then clarity of leadership is non-negotiable.

“Let the Ministry of Environment advise ONSA, but do not fracture control. In security architecture, divided oversight often leads to divided loyalties, and in the forest zones of Nigeria, that can be fatal,” Audu declared.

Another human rights lawyer, Sylvanus Malik, regretted that Nigeria is in the habit of duplicating agencies and security apparatus. According to him, there is no justification in the first place for the presidential directive for forest security.   

His words: “What happened to the ancient forest guard? In any case, the threats coming from our forests in today’s Nigeria are serious national security threats. But our security services seem to have lost focus. They are now involved in private business dispute settlement. It is not necessary to establish forest security in the first place, nor is there a necessity for the same to be placed under the NSA. This might just be a financial pipe-drain.”