Young Nigerians stormed NASS over insecurity. The old men in charge? Nowhere to be found

On Tuesday, a group of young Nigerians did something that should have been unnecessary. They marched to the National Assembly. They carried signs. They shouted chants. They demanded that the government protect their lives. Not wealth. Not privilege. Just the basic right to exist without fear. The protesters were peaceful. They were organized. They were ignored by the very people they came to see.

Here is what most people get wrong about the youth protest at the National Assembly. The problem is not that young Nigerians are impatient or dramatic. The truth is that young Nigerians are tired of watching their elders negotiate with bandits while children are kidnapped from schools. And here is why that matters right now: because a generation that has to beg for its own safety is a generation that has lost faith in the idea of Nigeria entirely.

The protest was tagged “Nigerians Unite Against Terror.” The convener, Isah Abubakar, said something that should be printed on every politician’s desk. “There are roads in Nigeria that once it is 5 p.m., you cannot pass through those roads.” He is not exaggerating. From Abuja to Kaduna. From Lagos to Ibadan. From Enugu to Abakaliki. Darkness falls, and the bandits rise. The government calls it a security challenge. Citizens call it a siege.

When young people have to march to demand safety, the government has already failed.

The protesters made a radical but simple demand. They want retired military officers, former service chiefs, and ex-DSS directors to come together and solve the crisis. Not for money. Not for glory. Because they are the only ones who still remember what it looks like when Nigeria fights back.

Let me give the government its due. Security is hard. Nigeria is vast. Bandits hide in forests that span state lines. Terrorists have more advanced weapons than some police units. The military is overstretched. These are real challenges.

But here is where that defense collapses. The protesters were not asking for miracles. They were asking for accountability. They pointed out that the APC chairman in Kebbi State is currently in the hands of bandits. A man from the ruling party. In a state governed by the ruling party. The bandits do not care about your party card. They do not ask for your voter registration. They take everyone. And the government’s response has been the same for years. Deny. Delay. Blame the last administration. Repeat.

The bandits are not selective. So why is the government’s response so selective?

I spoke to a young woman who attended the protest. She did not give me her name. She is afraid of being targeted. She told me that her village in Niger State was attacked three months ago. Her uncle was killed. Her cousin was taken. The ransom was paid. Her cousin was released. Life went back to “normal.” Except there is nothing normal about paying criminals to release your family.

She marched to the National Assembly because she has run out of options. Her parents have run out of savings. Her community has run out of hope. She is 24 years old. She should be thinking about her career, her future, her dreams. Instead, she is thinking about whether her younger siblings will survive the next school term.

The protesters offered a blueprint. Call on retired security chiefs. Give them a mandate. Fund them properly. Arm community guards. Coordinate intelligence across states. These are not radical ideas. These are common sense. But common sense requires uncommon courage from leaders who have spent years looking away.

The House of Representatives has summoned service chiefs to account for security funds. That is a start. But a start is not enough. Nigerians need results. They need roads they can travel after sunset. They need schools where children are safe. They need villages that do not pay tribute to bandits.

Here is where we land. Young Nigerians stormed the National Assembly. The old men in charge were nowhere to be found. But the old men cannot hide forever. The youth are watching. They are counting. And one day, they will stop marching and start voting. That is the day the old men should truly fear.