In Yoruba wisdom, priorities must be rightly ordered: “Ẹ jẹ́ kí a lé Ẹlẹ́yọ́rọ́ lọ, kí a tó fi àbọ̀ fún Adìrẹ.” The Ẹlẹ́yọ́rọ́ — the fox — represents the hidden danger; the Adìrẹ — the hen — is the noisy, visible victim whose behaviour may have attracted trouble. The wise confront the predator first, not the feathers.
So it is with the recent altercation between the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory, Nyesom Wike, and Lt. Ahmad Yerima of the Nigerian Navy. The confrontation began when Wike, during an inspection of an area marked for recovery, met naval officers reportedly guarding a disputed landed property which officials say was originally earmarked for public use.
FCT officials have previously alleged that military personnel obstructed earlier attempts to access the area, which partly explains the minister’s decision to visit personally.
The minister’s temper flared. The video of him calling the young officer a “fool” circulated widely and ignited instant outrage. But while the public focused almost entirely on Wike’s lack of composure, a far more troubling issue – the real ẹlẹ́yọ́rọ́ – went largely unexamined: the unlawful deployment of active-duty personnel by a retired admiral to protect a disputed private claim when we have courts.
That, not the minister’s insult, is the deeper threat to the Republic. The Federal Government has since ordered investigations into both the land ownership and the circumstances surrounding the deployment, and the outcomes will further clarify these unanswered questions.
The Wike-Yerima Encounter as Symptom
Lt. Yerima found himself pulled between two forces: superiors who directed him to an improper assignment, and a federal minister acting on behalf of the Commander-in-Chief.
Wike’s tone was unnecessary, but a more serious question confronts the nation: What business does a serving naval officer have guarding private land? This question sits at the heart of civil-military relations and exposes a pattern far more dangerous than a minister’s temper.
In every genuine democracy, the military protects the nation – not private estates.
Huntington’s timeless warning remains relevant: civilian authority must remain supreme.
Should Wike Have Been There?
Some argue Wike should have delegated the task. But ministers are executive heads of ministries; they have constitutional powers to supervise agencies and enforce federal policy — including field inspections. A minister who never visits the field is worse than one who does so forcefully.
Indeed, Nigeria’s infrastructure might look different today if certain ministers, past and present, had taken direct oversight as seriously. What Wike lacked was not legal authority but discretion – the calm restraint befitting high office.
Minister Wike’s presence was lawful; his language unfortunate. Yet even his misstep does not outweigh the greater danger – that a young officer was placed there at all. Protecting soldiers from abuse is essential, but such protection cannot extend to shielding unconstitutional deployments.
The Illegality of Deploying Soldiers for Private Protection
The practice is indefensible. In the United States, the Posse Comitatus Act bars military use in domestic civil disputes. In the United Kingdom and Germany, using soldiers for private errands attracts severe sanctions. Across Asia and Africa – India, Japan, Ghana, South Africa – the soldier-police divide is constitutionally clear.Nowhere else among stable democracies do retired officers routinely deploy active-duty personnel as estate guards and private escorts. This misuse of uniformed authority is the true ẹlẹ́yọ́rọ́ that the Nigerian national assembly must stop.
What the Nigerian Constitution Says
As constitutional scholars have long noted, civilian supremacy is the first principle of any democratic armed forces. Accordingly, the 1999 Constitution is unambiguous:
• Section 217 limits the Armed Forces to defence and, when authorised by the President, support to civil authorities.
• Section 218 places all operational control solely in the President.
• Section 5 empowers ministers to enforce federal policy.
• Section 297(2) vests all FCT land in the Federal Government.
• Section 44(1) directs aggrieved citizens to the courts – not to soldiers.
• Section 1 affirms the supremacy of the Constitution over all commands.
By these provisions, Lt. Yerima should never have been deployed – and once a constituted civilian authority appeared, he was duty-bound to withdraw immediately, even before Wike’s unfortunate utterance. Yet, a civilized retired naval officer should have approached the court, if he thinks Minister Wike trampled upon his right to own the property.
A Roman Warning for a Modern Republic
History offers a warning. The Roman Republic unravelled not in a single moment, but gradually — when generals commanded personal loyalty from their troops and the Senate lost the moral authority to restrain them. Plutarch recounts how Marius, Sulla and Caesar marched on Rome with soldiers loyal not to the state but to individual commanders. When Caesar crossed the Rubicon declaring, “Alea iacta est,” the die was not merely cast; it marked the collapse of decades of weakened civilian oversight.
Nigeria edges toward a similar institutional danger when retired officers can still command informal obedience, and when Defence Headquarters responds to civilian oversight with cryptic bravado rather than constitutional modesty.
After the Wike-Yerima incident, Defence Headquarters posted on its official X handle:
“IT IS AN HONOUR TO SERVE IN THE NIGERIAN MILITARY.UNSHAKEN. UNBENT. UNBROKEN.” (Premium Times, 12 November 2025)
Intended as morale-building, it was widely perceived as a subtle message of solidarity with the naval officer — and, more importantly, as a veiled challenge to a minister acting on delegated presidential authority.
At a time when coup rumours still swirl and insecurity persists, such messaging is the opposite of what constitutional professionalism demands.The military has every right to defend the dignity of its personnel, but it must do so in a manner that reinforces — not undermines — civilian authority.
A Direct Warning to Nigeria’s Political Elite
Civilian misrule is often the seed of military assertion. The more politicians rely on uniformed men as private enforcers or political shields, the more they erode their own legitimacy.Yet the deeper rot lies in leadership recruitment. A democracy cannot survive on law alone; it requires character. When individuals with histories of drug abuse, alcoholism, forged certificates, falsified ages, or chronic indiscipline ascend to high office, they invite contempt – from citizens and soldiers alike.
A morally bankrupt political class cannot command respect or obedience.Our political elites should learn from the mistakes of the First Republic leaders – who, whatever their faults, could at least claim higher moral standards than many of today’s occupants of high office, contributing to the weak ideological diversity and shallow accountability that plague our politics today. Nigeria must restore moral screening for public office. Communities once vetted leaders for integrity; that cultural guardrail must return. When people stop believing in civilian leadership, coups require no tanks — only silence.
Conclusion: Fix the Ẹlẹ́yọ́rọ́ Before Attending to the Adìrẹ
Minister Wike’s conduct was crude and unnecessary. But the far greater danger lies in the deeper distortions of a system that permits military misuse, erodes discipline, and emboldens institutional insubordination. Nigeria is not endangered by loud ministers; it is endangered by an Armed Forces that speaks in tones suggesting parity with elected authority.
To secure the Republic, Nigeria must chase away the ẹlẹ́yọ́rọ́ — military misuse, leadership decay, institutional cowardice — before being distracted by the Adìrẹ, the noisy scandal of the moment. If left unchecked, the nation may one day discover that the fox has not only eaten the hen, but quietly taken control of the entire farm.
About the Author
Dr. Olarinre Salako is a multidisciplinary scientist with expertise in energy, data and AI. He writes from Texas, USA. A native of Oyo Town, he is a student of history, politics and law, and frequently writes on governance and institutional reform. Email: olarinre.salako@gmail.com