Why Nigeria’s Defence budget should go beyond guns

For communities across Northern Nigeria, insecurity is not an abstract policy debate. It is a daily reality that shapes movement, livelihoods, education and survival. From the North East to the North West, citizens live with the consequences of state absence—unsafe roads, abandoned hospitals, closed markets and porous borders. It is against this lived experience that Nigeria’s 2026 defence budget of N5.41 trillion must be assessed. While the scale of the allocation reflects the seriousness of the country’s security challenges, the manner in which the funds are spent will ultimately determine whether insecurity recedes or simply mutates.

Military hardware and combat readiness are indispensable. No country confronting insurgency, banditry and terrorism can afford to neglect arms procurement. Yet Nigeria’s security crisis cannot be resolved through guns, tanks, fighter jets and drones alone. These tools are necessary, but they are not sufficient. Sustainable security, particularly in Northern Nigeria, depends equally on infrastructure, governance and visible state presence, especially in neglected and ungoverned spaces such as Mallam Fatori in the Lake Chad region.

For more than a decade, Boko Haram and ISWAP have thrived not merely because of their firepower, but because of prolonged state absence. Where roads are impassable, hospitals nonexistent and government authority invisible, insurgents fill the vacuum. They tax local populations, impose their own rules, dispense crude forms of “justice,” and exploit grievances rooted in poverty, exclusion and neglect. Any defence strategy that ignores this reality risks fighting the symptoms of insecurity while leaving its underlying causes untouched.

Nigeria, however, already possesses an underutilised asset capable of addressing this gap: the engineering and works departments of its armed forces. The Nigerian Army Works Department, alongside engineering units in the Air Force and Navy, has the technical capacity to construct roads, bridges, airstrips, hospitals, barracks and water systems. A notable example is the bridge linking Mallam Fatori in Nigeria with Bosso in the Republic of Niger. Across the world, militaries play dual roles as instruments of defence and agents of nation-building, particularly in fragile and conflict-affected regions. Nigeria should consciously deploy this model as part of its defence spending strategy.

The Lake Chad region illustrates why this approach is urgently needed. Covering parts of Borno State, the area has endured years of insurgency, displacement and humanitarian crisis. Despite its strategic importance, many communities remain physically disconnected from the Nigerian state. Abadam Local Government Area exemplifies this neglect. Bordering both Niger and Chad, Abadam is a frontline territory in Nigeria’s security architecture. Its headquarters, Mallam Fatori, is one of the country’s most strategically located towns. Yet, incredibly, there is still no tarred road linking Mallam Fatori and Abadam town to the rest of Nigeria. In practice, only the military currently has the capacity to undertake such construction in an extremely fragile and insecure environment.

This single reality exposes a deeper structural weakness. How can Nigeria secure its borders when its own forces struggle to access them? How can troops maintain permanent control, ensure rapid response and sustain presence in areas reachable only through treacherous, seasonal routes? During the rainy season, many of these roads become completely impassable, cutting off communities and security formations alike. In such conditions, insurgents enjoy mobility, local familiarity and cross-border escape routes, while the Nigerian state appears distant, episodic and reactive.

Dedicating a portion of the defence budget to road construction in such areas is not a diversion from security priorities; it is a direct investment in them. A tarred road linking Mallam Fatori and Abadam, as well as Rann in Kala Balge Local Government Area, to other parts of Borno State would significantly alter the security dynamics of the region. It would enable faster troop deployment, reliable logistics, sustained patrols and permanent presence. Crucially, it would also improve intelligence gathering by strengthening trust and interaction between security forces and local communities.

Beyond roads, the construction of military hospitals, clinics, airstrips and basic infrastructure by military engineering units would further entrench state authority. In many conflict-affected Northern communities, the absence of healthcare is both a humanitarian disaster and a security risk. Insurgents often exploit this vacuum, offering limited medical support to gain loyalty or compliance. A visible, government-run hospital, even a modest one, signals permanence, care and legitimacy. It reassures citizens that the Nigerian state is not merely an armed visitor, but a resident authority invested in their survival and dignity.

Some critics argue that infrastructure development should be left exclusively to civilian ministries. In ideal conditions, this would be correct. But Northern Nigeria’s conflict-affected borderlands are far from ideal. Insecure terrain, persistent attacks and logistical challenges make civilian contractors unwilling or unable to operate. Projects are abandoned, inflated or destroyed. Military engineering units, by contrast, can work under protection, adapt to hostile environments and deliver strategic projects where others cannot. This is not a call to militarise development, but to pragmatically integrate security and development where circumstances demand it.

Engaging the military in nation-building also improves civil-military relations. Communities that encounter soldiers only during combat operations may associate them with fear and disruption. When those same soldiers are seen building roads, restoring clinics and reopening access to markets, perceptions change. Trust improves, intelligence flows more freely, and the space for insurgent propaganda shrinks.

This approach also makes economic sense. The defence budget already covers personnel, equipment and logistics for military engineering units. Deploying them for infrastructure projects in strategic locations maximises returns on existing investments while aligning development with security objectives.

For Northern Nigeria, the battle against Boko Haram and ISWAP will not be won solely through firepower. It will be won when border communities feel truly Nigerian, when roads connect them to markets and governance, when hospitals treat their sick, and when the state is visible beyond checkpoints and patrols. Presence, not just weapons, secures territory.

Nigeria’s N5.41 trillion defence budget offers an opportunity to rethink security through the lens of the North’s lived realities. By deliberately allocating a portion of this funding to infrastructure development through military engineering units, especially in neglected border areas such as Abadam and Kala Balge, the country can confront insecurity at its roots. Roads, hospitals and visible governance are not alternatives to military force; they are its most powerful allies.

Adam, Ph.D wrote from Maiduguri.

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