By Oluwaseun Taiwo

For years, insecurity has defined public discourse in Nigeria. Hardly a week passes without reports of kidnappings, terrorist attacks, communal clashes, armed robbery or banditry across different parts of the country. Despite increased military deployments, new security operations and billions of naira invested in defense, many Nigerians continue to ask a simple question: why has the country remained unable to provide adequate security for its citizens?

This persistent insecurity has revived one of Nigeria’s longest-running constitutional debates, the creation of state police. Once regarded as politically sensitive, the proposal has now become one of the most significant constitutional reforms currently before the National Assembly. On 11 June 2026, the House of Representatives overwhelmingly passed the Constitution of the Federal Republic of Nigeria (Sixth Alteration) Bill, 2026, with 289 members voting in favour and only one against it. The Senate has also passed the bill through second reading and referred it to its Ad-hoc Committee on Constitutional Review. Although the proposal has not yet become law, it has progressed further than previous attempts to decentralise policing.

The proposed amendment seeks to revise Section 214 of the 1999 Constitution, which currently recognises  the Nigeria Police Force as the country’s only lawful police institution. If eventually adopted, Nigeria would operate two constitutionally recognised policing systems. The Federal Police would retain responsibility for national security, while individual states could establish their own police services through legislation passed by their respective State Houses of Assembly.

Importantly, the bill does not compel every state to establish a police force. Rather, it creates the constitutional framework for states that choose to do so. Before any state police service becomes operational, the state must enact its own enabling law and satisfy minimum standards to be developed by the National Assembly. Governors would appoint State Commissioners of Police based on recommendations from the Nigeria Police Council, subject to confirmation by the State House of Assembly. Where disagreements arise between governors and commissioners regarding operational directives, the commissioner may refer the matter to the Nigeria Police Council, whose decision would be binding. These provisions suggest that lawmakers are attempting to balance greater state autonomy with mechanisms for oversight.

The renewed push for state police reflects growing recognition that Nigeria’s highly centralised policing structure is struggling to address increasingly localised security threats. Under the current system, governors are constitutionally described as Chief Security Officers of their states but exercise little operational authority over police commissioners, who report through the federal command structure headed by the Inspector General of Police. This contradiction has often slowed decision-making during security emergencies and reinforced public perceptions that the country’s policing architecture is too distant from the communities it serves.

Supporters therefore argue that security should become more responsive to local realities. Officers recruited within their states are likely to possess better knowledge of local languages, terrain, cultural dynamics and community networks, all of which can strengthen intelligence gathering and improve relationships between law enforcement agencies and citizens. A more decentralised policing system could also allow the Federal Police to focus on terrorism, organised crime, cybercrime and other transnational threats, while state police concentrate on everyday law enforcement and community safety.

These arguments are persuasive, particularly in a country as large and diverse as Nigeria. Federal systems generally distribute responsibilities across different levels of government, and policing remains one of the few major public services that is almost entirely centralised. Given the diversity of Nigeria’s security challenges, ranging from insurgency in the Northeast and banditry in the Northwest to kidnapping in the South and communal violence in the Middle Belt, expecting a  centrally controlled police force to respond  effectively in all the regions appears increasingly unrealistic.

However, recognising the limitations of the current system should not lead to the assumption that decentralisation alone will solve Nigeria’s security crisis. The effectiveness of policing depends as much on institutional quality as on organisational structure. Weak intelligence coordination, inadequate funding, corruption, judicial delays, porous borders and the widespread availability of illegal arms have all contributed to Nigeria’s insecurity. State police cannot, by itself, address these structural problems.

Perhaps the greatest concern surrounding the bill is the potential for political abuse. Nigeria’s democratic institutions continue to grapple with executive overreach and political interference in public institutions. Critics fear that state police could become instruments of political control, used to intimidate opposition parties, suppress peaceful protests, influence elections or silence critical voices. These concerns are neither hypothetical nor exaggerated. They reflect broader governance challenges that have affected several institutions across different levels of government.

This is precisely why the debate should extend beyond whether Nigeria needs state police to whether Nigeria possesses institutions capable of regulating them effectively. Constitutional safeguards are important, but they are only as effective as the institutions responsible for enforcing them. Independent oversight bodies, transparent recruitment processes, professional training, financial accountability and clear operational boundaries between federal and state authorities will ultimately determine whether state police strengthen democracy or weaken it.

The political momentum behind the bill suggests that constitutional reform is becoming increasingly likely. Growing support within the National Assembly, alongside backing from many state governments and widespread public concern over insecurity, indicates that decentralised policing has moved from political theory to a realistic policy option. Nevertheless, the proposal must still secure approval from at least twenty-four State Houses of Assembly before receiving presidential assent.

Ultimately, the success or failure of state police should not be measured by the number of new commands established or commissioners appointed. The more important question is whether Nigerians become safer. If communities continue to experience kidnappings, violent attacks and persistent fear despite constitutional reform, then decentralising policing will have achieved little. Conversely, if state police improve intelligence gathering, reduce response times, strengthen public confidence and enhance accountability while respecting democratic rights, the reform could represent one of the most significant changes to Nigeria’s security architecture since 1999.

The State Police Bill presents Nigeria with an opportunity to rethink how security is delivered in a federal democracy. Yet laws alone do not guarantee safety. Institutions, leadership, accountability, and politics will determine whether reforms succeed or fail. If this constitutional amendment eventually becomes law, history will judge it not by the excitement that greeted its passage, but by a much simpler question: Did Nigerians become safer? That is the standard by which this reform should ultimately be measured.