BY LANRE OLAGUNJU
One of the earliest signals that Inspector-General of Police, Olatunji Disu, intended to approach policing reform differently came barely days after assuming office. Rather than waiting for the constitutional debate to mature, he inaugurated an eight-member committee headed by Professor Olu Ogunsakin to develop a practical framework for state policing. It was a proactive decision that acknowledged a simple reality: if Nigeria was eventually going to embrace state police, the conversation should be informed by research rather than rhetoric. The committee’s recommendations were subsequently presented to the National Assembly as part of the ongoing constitutional reform process, reinforcing the Police Force’s willingness to contribute constructively to one of Nigeria’s most significant security conversations.
That spirit deserves recognition.
The proposed constitutional amendments now represent perhaps the boldest policing reform since 1999. For the first time, Nigeria appears ready to move away from a fully centralised policing model towards one that shares responsibility between the Federal Police and State Police.
Yet constitutional moments are often defined not only by what they answer, but by the questions they leave behind.
The current draft addresses many longstanding concerns. It establishes separate chains of command, outlines conditions for federal intervention and creates safeguards against arbitrary interference. But before the ink dries, there are a few questions that deserve clearer answers—not because the proposal should be abandoned, but because reforms of this magnitude should leave as little room for uncertainty as possible.
The first question is perhaps the most practical: who ultimately pays when security becomes expensive?
The proposed amendment rightly places primary responsibility for funding State Police on the states while allowing the Federal Government to provide grants through the National Police Council with legislative approval. But the framework stops short of explaining how those grants will be determined or distributed. States with stronger economies may establish capable police services relatively quickly. Others facing the greatest security pressures may struggle to fund even basic operations. If policing quality begins to depend largely on a state’s fiscal capacity, could Nigeria unintentionally create unequal levels of public safety across the federation? That question may ultimately require answers in the accompanying Police Act rather than the Constitution itself.
A second question concerns the delicate boundary between federal authority and state autonomy.
The draft wisely limits federal intervention to exceptional situations, including a breakdown of law and order or when requested by a governor. Yet determining precisely when a “breakdown” has occurred could become one of the most contested constitutional questions in future. Security emergencies rarely announce themselves neatly. At what point does a deteriorating situation become severe enough to justify federal intervention? Greater clarity may help prevent future disagreements that distract from the very objective both police structures are designed to achieve.
The third question is about accountability.
A third question concerns implementation itself. The Constitution establishes the framework, but many of the most important details—including certification standards, funding formulas, operational protocols and inter-agency coordination—are deferred to a future Police Act. That sequencing creates an obvious question. What happens if constitutional approval arrives before the enabling legislation is fully in place? States eager to establish police services could find themselves constitutionally empowered but operationally constrained, while the Federal Police continues to shoulder responsibilities under a system already acknowledged as overstretched. The transition may therefore depend less on constitutional amendment than on how quickly the implementing law follows.
Finally, there is the question that perhaps matters most over time: coordination.
Crime rarely respects administrative boundaries. Kidnapping networks, organised criminal groups, cybercrime syndicates and arms traffickers routinely operate across multiple states. The proposed framework recognises this reality by preserving a Federal Police with nationwide responsibilities. Even so, operational cooperation between both services will require far more than constitutional language. Intelligence sharing, interoperable communication systems, common databases and joint operational protocols will become just as important as jurisdiction itself. Without seamless coordination, decentralisation could unintentionally create operational gaps that sophisticated criminal networks may seek to exploit.
None of these questions diminishes the importance of the reform.
Indeed, they reinforce why this constitutional exercise matters. The objective is not simply to establish another police institution. It is to build a policing architecture capable of responding to Nigeria’s evolving security landscape more effectively than the one it replaces.
The debate has matured considerably. Credit belongs to the National Assembly for advancing the constitutional amendments and to stakeholders—including the Nigeria Police Force under IGP Disu—for engaging the process early with research-based recommendations rather than institutional resistance.
History may well remember this as the moment Nigeria embraced a more federal approach to policing.
But history also teaches that the strength of institutions often lies in the details that seem technical today and become decisive tomorrow.
Before Nigeria redraws the map of policing, it would be wise to ensure that every important question has an equally convincing answer. Because when it comes to national security, clarity is not merely good governance—it is itself a form of protection.
Olagunju wrote in from Abuja