When Abuja Fades: Is Insecurity Being Weaponized to Return Nigeria’s Capital to Lagos?
The Promise of Abuja, Now Under Siege
When Nigeria’s leaders carved Abuja out of the hills of the Middle Belt, the vision was clear: a neutral, purpose-built capital, free from coastal congestion and ethnic rivalry. It was meant to symbolize national unity, safety, and balance. Eyes Of Lagos reports,
But today, the dream looks frayed. From kidnappers terrorizing highways to armed robberies within city limits, Abuja no longer feels like the fortress capital its architects promised. Headlines of abductions, raids, and violent ambushes now punctuate the lives of residents who were once told they lived in Nigeria’s safest city.
“Abuja was supposed to be the last place you fear,” one resident told us. “Now, every time I leave my estate, I wonder if I’ll come back.”
This begs the uncomfortable question: is Abuja’s rising insecurity just another symptom of Nigeria’s national decay, or is it serving a quiet political purpose — softening the ground for Lagos to re-emerge as the true center of power?
A Capital Losing Its Grip
Security reports paint a grim picture. Along the Abuja–Kaduna highway, kidnappings and bandit attacks have become so frequent that many now risk flights instead of road travel. Suburbs like Gwagwalada, Bwari, and Kuje — once peaceful — are fast becoming hotspots of criminal raids. Even inner districts of the city have recorded brazen daylight robberies.
Foreign embassies have issued travel advisories warning diplomats and visitors of increased kidnapping threats in the Federal Capital Territory. Residents share stories of paying ransom, relocating family members, or avoiding nighttime travel altogether.
Abuja, it seems, is no longer immune.
The Optics: Tinubu in Lagos, Abuja Left in the Shadows
A curious pattern fuels suspicion. On key symbolic days — Independence Day, Democracy Day, or major policy launches — President Bola Tinubu is often seen in Lagos rather than Abuja. For a nation where the capital was designed to be the center of political theatre, this habit is not mere coincidence.
Optics matter in politics. And the optics suggest that Lagos — Nigeria’s economic hub and Tinubu’s long-standing base — is quietly reclaiming relevance as the stage for national power.
The more the President hosts foreign leaders, announces new policies, or attends ceremonies in Lagos, the more ministries, investors, and even journalists follow suit. Lagos becomes the center of gravity — not because of a decree, but because of presence.
As one political analyst quipped: “The capital is wherever the President is. And right now, the President is mostly in Lagos.”
Coincidence or Strategy?
There are two competing explanations — and both deserve attention.
1. Structural Collapse
Nigeria’s security architecture is overstretched. From Zamfara to Plateau to the Southeast, banditry, insurgency, and communal clashes have eroded the state’s monopoly on violence. Abuja’s insecurity could simply be the capital catching up with the chaos gripping the nation. Underfunded policing, corruption, porous borders, and a thriving black market for weapons explain much of the crisis.
2. Strategic Abandonment
But another possibility lurks. What if Abuja’s insecurity is not only failure but also convenience? An unsafe capital makes it easier for leaders to justify spending more time in Lagos, the city they know, control, and trust. Ministries quietly open satellite offices there. Elite families relocate. Ceremonies shift. Without a single policy statement, power drifts southward.
The genius of such a move — if deliberate — is that it avoids the political backlash of formally “relocating the capital.” Instead, Abuja remains the official seat on paper, while Lagos quietly becomes the real one.
How to Spot the Drift
If Nigerians want to test whether this theory holds, there are simple signals to watch:
-
Where are national events held? Track Independence Day, Democracy Day, or major launches: Lagos or Abuja?
-
Where do ministries operate? Many departments already keep “temporary” Lagos offices. Are they expanding instead of shrinking?
-
Where are security budgets flowing? Is Abuja receiving less reinforcement relative to its symbolic importance?
-
Where do elites buy property? If government-linked developers and contractors are pumping billions into Lagos estates, it signals confidence that power is entrenched there.
-
Where does the President spend his working days? An analysis of his official schedules could reveal the real capital of Nigeria.
Voices from the Ground
In Abuja, the fear is palpable. Taxi drivers now avoid certain routes after dark. University students in Gwagwalada recount being stalked by kidnappers. Residents of Bwari speak of gunshots in the night.
“I left Lagos years ago for peace of mind,” a banker in Jabi said. “Now I’m considering moving back to Lagos — even with the traffic — because at least I won’t be kidnapped on my way home.”
For Lagosians, however, the city feels like it is regaining its lost crown. From new presidential convoys to global investors being hosted in Eko Hotels, Lagos is buzzing with the aura of a de facto capital.
Winners and Losers of a Shift
If the drift continues, winners will include Lagos-based elites, investors, and Tinubu’s political network. Private security companies in Lagos will thrive. Business leaders will have easier access to power.
But the losers will be many:
-
Abuja residents abandoned to worsening insecurity.
-
Northern and Middle Belt leaders, who see Abuja as a geographic compromise for national unity.
-
Civil servants, forced into costly commutes between two cities.
-
Citizens, who may see the symbolism of a neutral capital replaced by the dominance of one region.
The political cost could be enormous. A Lagos-first capital risks re-opening old wounds of marginalization, threatening the very federal balance Abuja was designed to protect.
Risks of “Moving Without Moving”
Even if it were deliberate, such a drift is fraught with risks:
-
Regional Resentment: The North will see it as betrayal, the Middle Belt as erasure.
-
False Sense of Security: Lagos is hardly a fortress; the city has its own kidnappings, violent crimes, and overstretched infrastructure.
-
Fiscal Waste: Maintaining two parallel centers of governance is inefficient and costly.
-
Legitimacy Crisis: Citizens may question why the official capital is insecure and underutilized, while Lagos absorbs power without mandate.
A National Question Nigerians Must Ask
Ultimately, the issue is bigger than Abuja or Lagos. It is about whether the Nigerian state can secure its own capital. If it cannot, then what does that say about its ability to secure villages, highways, or border communities?
The drift — whether by coincidence or design — should alarm every Nigerian. A nation whose capital is unsafe is a nation without a center.
So the questions remain:
-
Is Abuja being allowed to fade so Lagos can shine?
-
Or is Lagos only filling the vacuum of a failing federal city?
-
And if Abuja collapses symbolically, what does that mean for Nigeria’s unity?
Pull Quotes for Social Media
-
“A capital abandoned in practice is a capital lost in influence.”
-
“The capital is wherever the President is — and right now, that is Lagos.”
-
“If Abuja is unsafe, what hope is there for the rest of Nigeria?”
Conclusion
When Abuja fades, Nigeria’s federal dream dims. But in the shadows, Lagos rises again — not by law, not by decree, but by habit and power.
The insecurity in Abuja may be mere failure. Or it may be convenience. Either way, Nigerians deserve answers. Because if the capital falls, the nation itself may lose its center.