The Torch

When Government Gets It Right, It Deserves Recognition.

The safe rescue of the abducted pupils and teachers from Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State is welcome news for every Nigerian.

For 56 painful days, families waited, prayed, and hoped. Today, those children and their teachers are back home.

We commend the Nigerian military, intelligence services, police, and every security operative who participated in the operation that led to their rescue. Reports indicate that several terrorists were neutralized while others were arrested, demonstrating that determined and coordinated security efforts can produce results.

As citizens, our duty is not only to criticize when government fails but also to acknowledge genuine success when lives are saved. That balance gives our voices credibility.

However, this victory should not mark the end of the conversation. The ultimate goal is a Nigeria where no child fears going to school, no teacher is kidnapped for doing their job, and no community lives under the shadow of terrorism.

We celebrate this rescue, remember the teacher who lost his life during the ordeal, and urge the government to sustain the momentum until every Nigerian can live in safety.

Credit where it is due. The work must continue.

— The Torch

Transparency should not begin at the finish line.

The Kano State Government has invited the EFCC and ICPC to monitor the distribution of subsidised fertiliser to farmers.

On the surface, this appears to be a commendable step. Every effort to prevent the diversion of public resources should be welcomed.

But here's the bigger question:

Why should anti-corruption oversight start only when the fertiliser is being distributed?

True transparency begins long before the public launch. It should cover:

- How the contract was awarded.
- Who supplied the fertiliser.
- How much was paid.
- Whether the quantity delivered matches what was purchased.
- How beneficiaries are selected.

If billions can be spent without independent oversight, but anti-graft agencies are invited only for the final distribution, then citizens have every right to ask whether the exercise is about accountability or public perception.

Nigeria deserves transparency from the first signature to the last bag of fertiliser—not just cameras at the distribution ground.

Accountability is a process, not a ceremony.

Every day in our hospitals, patients are still being moved from one department to another carrying paper files. Referral letters are handwritten. Test results are printed and physically transported. Emergency cases often arrive before vital information about the patient reaches the next medical team.

In a world of instant communication, why should critical healthcare information still travel at the speed of paper?

Imagine a healthcare system where a doctor in one hospital refers a patient digitally and the receiving hospital already has the patient's records, diagnosis, test results, and emergency status before the ambulance arrives.

Imagine pregnant women, newborn babies, accident victims, and critically ill patients receiving faster care because doctors, nurses, laboratories, pharmacies, and emergency units are connected through a unified digital healthcare network.

Imagine patients receiving appointment reminders on their phones, accessing their medical records securely, and spending less time in queues.

Technology has transformed banking, communication, transportation, and commerce. It is time to accelerate the digital transformation of healthcare as well.

Nigeria is full of talented young people with ideas that can improve governance, healthcare, education, and public services. The challenge before us is not a lack of ideas, but the willingness to support and implement solutions that can save lives and improve efficiency.

A stronger healthcare system is not just a government responsibility. It is a national responsibility.

The future belongs to societies that solve problems.

HOW MUCH MORE MUST NIGERIANS PAY?

The average Nigerian is becoming an ATM for everyone.

Pay electricity bills. Buy fuel because there is no electricity.

Pay for internet. Struggle with poor network.

Pay taxes. Pay levies. Pay charges.

Pay for security because criminals are everywhere.

Pay for water because public water systems have failed.

Pay for healthcare because hospitals are underfunded.

Pay for education because many public schools are struggling.

And still... Nigerians are told to pay more.

Every day, money disappears from our accounts through one deduction or another. Transfer money? Deduction. Buy services? Charges. Renew subscriptions? More money.

Yet millions of citizens are asking a simple question:

Where is the improvement?

Where is the stable power supply?

Where is the security of lives and property?

Where are the jobs for young people?

Where are the roads our taxes are supposed to build?

Where are the public services that justify the endless sacrifices?

Even entertainment has become another burden.

A worker subscribes for television services. Power supply disappears for days. The decoder sits unused. The subscription continues counting down. Thirty days later, another payment is demanded.

Why?

Why should Nigerians continue paying for services they could not fully use?

Why does every system seem designed to collect from citizens rather than serve them?

The truth is that Nigerians are not afraid of paying taxes.

Nigerians are not afraid of contributing to national development.

What citizens want is fairness.

What citizens want is accountability.

What citizens want is evidence that their money is being used to improve their lives.

A nation cannot continue demanding more from its people while giving less in return.

The market woman feels it.

The civil servant feels it.

The student feels it.

The entrepreneur feels it.

The unemployed graduate feels it.

The pensioner feels it.

Everyone is carrying the burden.

Nigeria belongs to all of us, and every citizen has the right to ask questions.

If you believe Nigerians deserve better services, better governance, better accountability and better value for the money they pay every day, share this post and let your voice be heard.

Follow The Torch for more conversations on governance, accountability, security, corruption and the issues affecting ordinary Nigerians.

🇳🇬 The Torch

WHEN BANDITS MOVE FREELY AND CITIZENS LIVE IN FEAR
A disturbing video has gone viral across Nigeria.
In the footage, heavily armed men riding motorcycles are seen moving openly along a road in northwestern Nigeria. What has shocked many Nigerians is not only the presence of these armed men, but the apparent ease with which they pass through a checkpoint where security personnel are present.
Whether every claim surrounding the video is eventually confirmed or not, one fact remains undeniable:
Millions of Nigerians have reached a point where they are no longer shocked to see criminals carrying weapons openly while ordinary citizens live in fear.
That alone is a national tragedy.
For years, communities across Zamfara, Katsina, Kaduna, Sokoto, Niger and other parts of northern Nigeria have endured a nightmare of kidnappings, mass killings, village raids, extortion, cattle rustling and highway abductions.
Parents send children to school with fear.
Farmers abandon their farms because they cannot guarantee their safety.
Travelers pray before every journey.
Villages sleep with one eye open.
Yet armed groups continue to operate, recruit, move and strike with frightening confidence.
The question Nigerians continue to ask is simple:
How do criminals acquire sophisticated weapons, move in large numbers, communicate effectively and operate for years without being decisively dismantled?
The answer is complex.
Part of the problem is weak governance.
Part is corruption.
Part is poor intelligence gathering.
Part is inadequate equipment and welfare for security personnel.
Part is political failure.
Part is poverty and unemployment, which create fertile ground for criminal recruitment.
Part is the collapse of trust between citizens and institutions.
And in some cases, there have been allegations and documented instances of compromise within security structures, where individuals entrusted with protecting the public have instead aided criminal elements.
When citizens see videos like this, whether fully verified or not, they immediately believe the worst because public confidence has been eroded over many years.
That loss of trust is dangerous.
A nation cannot win a security war when its people no longer believe that those responsible for protecting them are capable of doing so.
Security is not merely about guns and uniforms.
Security is about trust.
Security is about accountability.
Security is about ensuring that every officer understands that loyalty belongs to the nation, not to criminals, politicians, ethnic interests or personal gain.
Nigeria deserves answers.
If the video is authentic, there must be a transparent investigation.
If officers acted improperly, there must be consequences.
If the footage has been misinterpreted, authorities must provide clear evidence and communicate openly with the public.
Silence only fuels suspicion.
The Nigerian people deserve better than uncertainty.
We cannot normalize a situation where citizens fear highways more than criminals do.
We cannot normalize communities being abandoned to armed gangs.
We cannot normalize mass kidnappings.
We cannot normalize paying ransom as a way of life.
We cannot normalize children growing up believing that criminality is more powerful than the state.
Every government exists for one primary purpose:
To protect lives and property.
When citizens can no longer travel safely, farm safely, learn safely or sleep safely, then the very foundation of governance is threatened.
This is not about politics.
This is not about ethnicity.
This is not about religion.
This is about human lives.
It is about mothers who have buried children.
It is about fathers kidnapped on highways.
It is about students abducted from schools.
It is about communities erased from the map by violence.
Nigeria's security crisis will not be solved by propaganda, denial or public relations statements.
It will be solved by courage, accountability, intelligence-driven operations, justice, economic opportunities for young people, and an unwavering commitment to protecting innocent citizens.
The Nigerian people are watching.
The world is watching.
And history will remember whether those entrusted with power chose to act or chose to look away.
No citizen should fear criminals more than they trust their government.
No armed group should roam freely while innocent Nigerians live behind locked doors.
Enough is enough.
✍️ The Torch Speaking truth. Demanding accountability. Defending the people.

THE APO SIX: A STORY NIGERIA MUST NEVER FORGET

On the night of June 7, 2005, six young Nigerians left home expecting to return before morning.

They never did.

Their names were Ifeanyi Ozor, Chinedu Meniru, Paulinus Ogbonna, Ekene Isaac Mgbe, Anthony Nwokike, and Augustina Arebu.

They were not terrorists.
They were not kidnappers.
They were not at war.

They were ordinary young Nigerians whose lives ended in one of the most shocking cases of police brutality in our nation's history.

According to official investigations and judicial findings, the six were falsely labelled as armed robbers after they were intercepted by police officers in Abuja. Evidence was later found to have been fabricated. Weapons were allegedly planted. Photographs were staged. A false narrative was created to justify the killings.

For years, their families fought to clear their names.

For years, mothers cried.
For years, fathers demanded answers.
For years, justice moved at the speed of a snail.

Twelve years later, in March 2017, two former police officers were sentenced to death for their roles in the killings.

But the Apo Six were not the beginning of police brutality in Nigeria.

And sadly, they were not the end.

From Apo Six in 2005 to countless documented incidents that followed, Nigerians have repeatedly witnessed reports of torture, unlawful detention, extortion, excessive use of force, and extrajudicial killings.

We remember the stories of young Nigerians who never made it home after police encounters.

We remember citizens who were beaten because they refused to pay illegal money.

We remember families forced to search mortuaries for loved ones who disappeared after arrest.

We remember reports of innocent people labelled criminals without evidence.

We remember the countless cases that never made the news.

Then came October 2020.

The movement was not born from a single incident. It was born from years of accumulated pain, anger, fear, and frustration.

Young Nigerians took to the streets demanding an end to police brutality and accountability for abuses of power.

The message was simple:

No citizen should be tortured.
No citizen should be killed without trial.
No citizen should lose their life because of a badge and a gun.

A democratic society cannot survive when those entrusted with enforcing the law become a source of fear for law-abiding citizens.

The power to arrest is not the power to torture.

The power to investigate is not the power to execute.

The power to carry a weapon is not the power to decide who lives and who dies.

This is not an attack on every police officer.

Many officers serve honourably, risk their lives daily, and perform difficult duties under challenging conditions.

But protecting good officers requires confronting bad officers.

Silence protects abuse.

Accountability protects institutions.

Justice strengthens public trust.

Twenty-one years after the Apo Six killings, Nigerians are still asking difficult questions:

How many families are still waiting for justice?

How many victims remain unnamed?

How many abuses go unreported because people fear retaliation?

How many lessons have truly been learned?

A nation that forgets its victims risks repeating its mistakes.

The Apo Six deserve to be remembered.

Not because they were famous.

Not because they were powerful.

But because they were human beings whose lives mattered.

Their story is a reminder that justice delayed is justice denied, and that the fight against abuse of power is never truly over.

The Torch stands with every victim of police brutality, every family seeking justice, and every Nigerian who believes that no one should be above the law.

Remember the Apo Six.

Remember every innocent life lost to abuse of power.

Remember that justice is not a privilege.

It is a right.

A father is supposed to protect his child, not become the reason she dies.

14-year-old Hira Anwar was reportedly taken from New York to Pakistan by people she trusted most. Authorities allege that her own father and uncle conspired to kill her because they disapproved of her lifestyle and social media activity.

Let that sink in.

A child. Fourteen years old.

Not accused of a crime. Not a threat to anyone. Not harming anyone.

Her only "offense" was living her life in a way some people did not approve of.

No religion should justify this. No culture should excuse this. No tradition should defend this. No belief system should ever be used as a license to murder a human being—especially a child.

When a father chooses control over love, domination over guidance, and violence over understanding, society must call it exactly what it is: evil.

Children are not property. Daughters are not possessions. Parents are guardians, not owners.

The world has advanced too far for anyone to believe that disagreement over clothing, friendships, social media, or personal choices can justify taking a life.

Hira Anwar should be alive today. She should be in school, laughing with friends, planning her future, and dreaming about adulthood.

Instead, she became another victim of the dangerous belief that family "honour" matters more than human life.

There is no honour in killing a child.

There never will be.

WHEN CITIZENS LOSE FAITH IN THE SYSTEM, THEY TURN TO THEMSELVES

The disturbing scenes of youths mobilizing to rescue their people from security custody should worry every Nigerian—not because people demanded justice, but because it reflects a dangerous loss of confidence in the institutions meant to uphold justice.

A society cannot function when citizens believe they must take matters into their own hands before their voices are heard. It is a sign that trust is breaking down.

The questions Nigerians are asking are simple:

Why did the situation escalate to this point?

Why do many citizens feel that official channels often fail them?

Why are young people increasingly willing to confront authority directly, despite the risks?

No nation can thrive when frustration replaces trust, when anger replaces dialogue, and when the people begin to see themselves as the only source of protection.

The responsibility now lies with leaders and institutions to restore confidence through transparency, fairness, accountability, and respect for the rule of law.

Nigeria stands at a crossroads. We can either build institutions that earn the people's trust, or continue down a path where every grievance risks becoming a confrontation.

The scenes we witnessed should not be celebrated. They should be a wake-up call.

A government should never have to fear its citizens. Citizens should never have to feel abandoned by their government.

The growing distance between the two is becoming impossible to ignore.

WHO IS REALLY FIGHTING FOR NIGERIANS?

As politicians are already drawing battle lines for 2027, millions of Nigerians are fighting a different battle entirely—the battle to survive.

A father wakes up every morning wondering how he will feed his family.

A mother stands in the market watching the prices of basic food items rise beyond her reach.

Young graduates roam the streets with certificates but no jobs.

Small businesses are shutting down under the weight of rising costs.

Communities are living in fear of kidnappers, bandits, terrorists, and criminal gangs.

Yet, in the midst of all this suffering, our political class appears to be fully focused on the next election.

The question Nigerians should ask is simple:
Who is fighting for the people?

Is it normal that in a country blessed with oil, gas, fertile land, solid minerals, and one of the most energetic populations in Africa, millions still struggle to afford food?

Is it normal that parents are afraid when their children leave for school?

Is it normal that some communities sleep with one eye open because they do not know what the night may bring?

Is it normal that every year, Nigerians are told to endure a little more hardship while public officials continue to enjoy privileges funded by taxpayers?

Today, debates continue over state police as many believe local security structures could help tackle insecurity more effectively. Others fear it could be abused by powerful politicians.

But while leaders debate, Nigerians are asking:
How many more lives must be lost before security becomes more than a campaign promise?

How many families must mourn loved ones?

How many businesses must collapse?

How many dreams must die?

At the same time, political coalitions are already forming ahead of 2027. Meetings are being held. Alliances are being negotiated. Calculations are being made.

But where was this urgency when Nigerians cried out over insecurity?

Where was this urgency when inflation pushed families to the edge?

Where was this urgency when young people demanded jobs and opportunities?

The average Nigerian is not asking for luxury.
The average Nigerian is asking for: ✔ Security. ✔ Affordable food. ✔ Reliable electricity. ✔ Quality healthcare. ✔ Good schools. ✔ Honest leadership. ✔ A fair chance to succeed.
Nothing more.
Nothing extraordinary.
Just the basics of human dignity.
Nigeria does not lack talent.
Nigeria does not lack resources.
Nigeria does not lack potential.
What Nigerians increasingly question is whether the nation suffers from a shortage of accountability and political will.
As citizens, we must refuse to become spectators in our own country.
We must ask difficult questions.
We must demand answers.
We must hold every leader accountable—not because we hate them, but because Nigeria deserves better.
The suffering of the people should never become normal.
The cries of citizens should never become background noise.
And leadership should never be treated as a privilege without responsibility.
If elections were held today, what single issue would determine your vote: Security, Economy, Corruption, Electricity, Education, Healthcare, or Jobs?
Tell us in the comments.
🇳🇬 Nigeria can be better. The question is: Who is willing to make it happen?

THE TORCH 🔥

As Nigerians, we must never become comfortable with the kidnapping of our children.

The continued public outcry over the abduction of schoolchildren and their teachers is a reminder that every child deserves to learn in safety, not in fear. No parent should have to wonder whether a child sent to school will return home.

In recent days, activists and concerned citizens have continued to demand accountability and action from authorities. Regardless of political affiliation, this is a cause that should unite all Nigerians. The safety of our children is not a partisan issue—it is a national duty.

We commend every individual, organization, journalist, and advocate who has kept public attention on this matter. When citizens refuse to remain silent, the nation is reminded of its responsibilities.

The real measure of any society is how it protects its most vulnerable. Until every child can go to school without fear of abduction, our work is not done.

Nigeria must do better.

Our children deserve better.

The Torch will continue to stand for accountability, justice, and the protection of every Nigerian child.