News Editor
From Checks to Citizenship: Dismantling the Walls of Exclusion for a Lasting Peace.
By Ibrahim Nasiru
“A hungry man is not a free man; he is a man under siege, and his vote is the ultimate ransom.”
If peace were simply the absence of gunfire, the Plateau State would have been secured long ago by the sheer weight of its military presence.
Yet, beneath the humming of patrol vehicles and the enforced silence of curfews in areas like Jos North and Mangu, the embers of the “indigene-settler” divide continue to glow, waiting for the next political wind to fan them into a forest fire.
True security is not found in the barrel of a gun, but in the heart of a city where “belonging” is defined by contribution rather than ancestry. It is time to look beyond the barracks and toward a new social contract.
This military-first approach , a hallmark of the “General’s Gambit” has effectively turned the Plateau’s flashpoints into open-air prisons where peace is merely an intermission between tragedies.
While boots on the ground can suppress an active riot, they cannot patrol the deep-seated resentment that a discriminatory “indigene” certificate fosters in the neighborhood market or the local council office.
The failure of the current security strategy lies in its treatment of the symptoms while coddling the disease.
By maintaining a system that legally and socially segregates residents based on ancestral lineage, the state inadvertently provides the “moral” fuel for every reprisal attack.
Security forces are being asked to guard a house that is structurally unsound; as long as one group feels like a permanent tenant and another like an entitled landlord, the conflict will remain a ticking time bomb that no amount of military hardware can defuse.
The economic cost of this division is a self-inflicted wound that has bled the state dry for decades. In a climate where “belonging” is a prerequisite for opportunity, the Plateau has traded its potential as a regional hub for a stagnant reality of gated ethnic
enclaves.
When a “settler”—who may have lived in Jos for three generations is denied the same business grants, land titles, or employment opportunities as an “indigene,” the state isn’t just practicing discrimination; it is practicing economic suicide.
We have created a system that discourages investment and drives away the human capital needed to rebuild the middle class.
By locking segments of the population out of the prosperity loop, we have ensured that the only “industry” left for many young men is the cycle of ethnic grievance and mercenary violence.
However, the transition from a battleground to a marketplace cannot happen without radical legal surgery. We must move beyond cosmetic “peace committees” and tackle the archaic legal framework that codifies the “indigene-settler” distinction.
True security requires a transition to State Residency Rights, where any Nigerian who lives, pays taxes, and contributes to the Plateau is granted full civic identity. Until the law recognizes a resident of Jos with the same clarity it recognizes a “son of the soil,” the “General’s Gambit” will continue to fail.
Security is not a gift given by the army; it is a byproduct of a justice system that refuses to see “strangers” among its own citizens.
The choice for future leadership is no longer a matter of political convenience; it is a matter of state survival.
To continue down the path of ethnic gatekeeping is to guarantee a future of perpetual curfews and funeral processions.
We must demand a leadership with the courage to burn the “settler” labels and replace them with a unified charter of citizenship.
If the state is to reclaim its title as the Home of Peace and Tourism, it must first become the Home of Justice and Inclusion. We must stop pretending that we can secure the land while we are still alienating the people who live upon it.
The “indigene-settler” divide is a relic of a fragmented past that has no place in a secure future.
For the Plateau to truly stand, the walls we have built between neighbours must fall, or they will eventually collapse and bury us all.
Chief Ibrahim Nasiru
A Public Affairs Analyst writes from Abuja.
