Cultism can only be tackled if the Nigerian state regain its monopoly on violence – By Dr Remi Adekoya
I watched the BBC Black Axe documentary. It triggered lots of thoughts in my head. Felt it showed a lot but was a bit like a documentary showing a single Mexican drug cartel without explaining how cartels emerged to thrive as a system.
By now, everyone knows Wole Soyinka co-founded Pyrates, Nigeria’s first confraternity, in 1952. Pyrates and other groups we now call ‘cults’ existed throughout the 60s, 70s and 80s. But they weren’t major actors, even on campus. They sometimes fought but mostly with their fists. They had machetes and axes, but serious violence was rare.
Nigeria was under military rule most times, and the military jealously guarded its monopoly on violence.
In sign of times, a family member of mine had to escape Nigeria late 1980s because someone had died after an initiation. The family member was in a confra (confraternity), a guy had gone through their initiation ceremony, returned to his hostel and told his roommates who some of the members were as he’d seen their faces. A few hours later, he died of an asthma attack, likely induced by the stress he’d undergone. His roommates told police what had happened, and all hell broke loose. Police and the army started searching everywhere for my fam member and others. He had to leave Nigeria.
This was how the situation looked the late 80s. Confra groups were marginal and scared of the Nigerian state.
The situation started changing 90-91. At the time, some of the strongest opposition to IBB’s continuous extension of his own rule and postponement of the democratization process was coming from student unions. They were way more influential on campus than the ‘cultists’ were. They constantly organized protests, highlighting IBB’s deception, corruption et al. Their leaders were articulate and demonstrated the fearlessness of youth. 50 year-olds with children and livelihoods to think of are much easier to scare than 20 year-olds who feel invincible.
Student union leaders became a thorn in the side of IBB’s government. The story I heard, and which seems to me logical, is that SSS (State Security Service) handed confra members their first guns so they could eliminate their rivals – student union leaders – and dominate campuses.
Anyone familiar with happenings on university campuses in the very early 90s may recall that the main battles were between confras and student unions. Armed with guns, confras obviously won. Student unions have never recovered their influence since then.
After this, there was no going back. Confras now had a taste of the power a gun can give. The ultimate power. Over life and death. No way they were going to give that up. A government had decided to share its monopoly on violence. As the economy worsened towards the mid-90s, guns became even easier to buy from police et al.
Class warfare then came into it. When I started secondary school in the early 90s, ‘What’s Up’ guys looked down on confras as groups of ‘raz’ boys, a lower-class thing. Every ISL ‘bubbler’ wanting to go to Unilag dreamt of joining a ‘club’ back then. THEY were at the top of the food chain.
Clubs were mostly upper-class kids with money to spend. They looked down on others. Meanwhile, confras were recruiting boys often treated like nothing in society because they came from poor/lower-middle-class families. Boys made to feel powerless. The confras gave them power.
By the late 90s, the ‘raz’ boys had subjugated the club boys because when someone points a gun to your head, that person becomes your boss. Your social status means jackshit then. Imagine how thrilling this must have felt to those who had never felt powerful before.
Another thing confras offered was a sense of belonging. Everyone I know who was a member speaks of a sense of brotherhood. Even those who today would never want to hurt anybody do NOT regret having joined. They believe the experience gave them the confidence to NOT FEAR anyone.
They are grateful to their confra experience for making them feel courageous, as they feel it helps them in their adult life today, often as bankers, lawyers and entrepreneurs.
Many (most?) of the 40 something year-olds in Nigerian politics today are former members. Their confra experiences mean they don’t fear the violence that makes their peers reluctant to enter Nigerian politics. In fact, if you’re a 30-year-old who wants to enter politics today, having been a confra member is a great thing to have on your CV from the POV of a godfather.
Having been in a confra signals to a godfather that you:
a) Probably have “the mind” to survive Nigerian politics
b) Have a network you can summon to commit violence if he needs it
c) Value loyalty, key in politics, and also key in confras which teach loyalty to the group.
And so here we are. The only way ‘cultism’ can be tackled is by the Nigerian state regaining its monopoly on violence. Or at least regaining a near-enough monopoly.
Other than that, there is no incentive for cultists to give up their power and end the cycle of violence. None.
Is the Nigerian state capable of regaining a near-enough monopoly on violence?
I think, yes. A well-organized comprehensive plan could achieve this. Any such plan would need the inside knowledge of present/former members about how they operate and where their weak spots are.
Of course, it would have to go hand in hand with providing other empowering and money-making opportunities for Nigerian youths, especially males. Men will do anything for respect if they feel denied it.
Whatever government comes in 2023 will certainly have their hands full!
- Dr Remi Adekoya is an Associate Lecturer in Politics at the University of York, United Kingdom. He was formerly a political journalist for Guardian, Foreign Affairs, Washington Post, Politico, among others
