When asked his opinion on the attitude of Nigerians towards the military, Lieutenant X said, “It’s because we just left the military regime.”

In Nigeria, there is a collective perception shared towards the military and all uniformed men; they are often condemned and criticised but rarely ever praised. This condemnation seems to emanate from a deep rooted hatred. It is rare to hear Nigerians speak well of a uniformed man, whether a police officer or a soldier. Often tagged as hungry, corrupt, and oppressors, they are seen as bullies as opposed to guardians and protectors. But this disrespect for the military is part of a long-standing culture that can be traced back to the days of the military rule in Nigeria.

When Fela released the album Zombie in 1977, it was an attack on the Nigerian military, a metaphoric description of their modus operandi. ‘Zombie’ described Nigerian soldiers as senseless and mindless robots operating under the whims of their commander. The album angered the military government, causing them to launch a brutal attack on Fela’s Kalakuta commune, which was further evidence of Zombie’s ethos. At the time, the country had experienced a series of military juntas and was under the regime of General Olusegun Obasanjo, who had just succeeded Brigadier Murtala Mohammed.

But it wasn’t just Fela that suffered in the hands of the military; the people of Niger-Delta experienced their wrath as well. In the 90’s, under General Sani Abacha’s rule, thousands of people in the Niger-Delta were killed and hundreds of thousands were internally displaced over tensions between multinational oil corporations and a number of minority ethnic groups, particularly the Ogoni’s and Ijaw’s, who were being exploited. This led to the ongoing conflict in Niger-Delta, which resulted in the militarization of the entire region.

Media houses, journalists, activists, literary scholars, and politicians, were not spared by the military either. The likes of Dele Giwa, Ken Saro-Wiwa, Wole Soyinka, and M.K.O Abiola, were all victims of repression and oppression of the Nigerian military. The days of military rule had Nigerians talking in whispers, living under the constant fear of being arrested or killed, while they also bore the brunt of a failing economy caused by the incompetence and unbridled waste of the government. Military regimes were characterised by abuse, crime, urban dislocation, and institutional decay, instilling fear and distrust in Nigerians.

16 years later, the fear of the military has evolved into hatred, prompting the disrespect that they are accorded in most parts of the country today. Except for the north. The emergence of Boko Haram’s insurgency in 2009 and advanced resurgence in 2011 prompted the declaration of a state of emergency which led to the military occupation of north-eastern Nigeria. For four years, the Nigerian military has waged war against the Islamic terrorist group amidst severe pressure and criticisms from both a local and international audience.

In an Amnesty International report in June, the Nigerian Army was accused of perpetrating war crimes. The report alleged that the military abused civilians as part of their fight against Boko Haram. However, the army debunked this report, calling it an unfortunate attempt to undermine their attempt to counter the insurgency. A Washington Post article described them as “broken.” While a CNN interview opined that the army was disorganised, ill-equipped, and riddled with corrupt practices. 

In the war-ravaged regions of Nigeria, soldiers are accorded respect. “In the north-east, people appreciate us. That gives me joy,” said the Lieutenant who spoke to me under anonymity, “when Christians come out of a church service, and see us on guard out front, they express appreciation.” He added that they (soldiers) get offered food and water by the residents of the towns they occupy. Evidently, Nigerians in the north don’t share the sentiment of their brothers in other seemingly secure parts of the country where soldiers are seen as intruders and bullies. In the north, they are regarded as messiahs. As one Nigerian who is based in Lagos puts it when asked his opinion on the unappreciative attitude of Nigerians towards military men, “It’s because there’s no war,” he said.

But there is war. War in the north-east is war in Nigeria, even if many citizens in other parts of the country feel disconnected from the violence.

Boko Haram attacks have greatly impacted the economy of the nation, apparent from a decrease in foreign direct investment (FDI). According to the 2013 World Investment Report (WIR), FDI flows into the country dropped by 21% in a year — from $8.9 billion in 2011 to $7 billion in 2012.

Growth in farmland production in the northern region which produces most of the country’s food crops has been sluggish and has resulted in higher food prices. Farmers won’t leave their homes for fear of being attacked by the Islamic sect. According to Nigeria’s national statistics bureau, food prices increased by 9.8 percent in June 2014, and inflation reached 8.2 percent.

The effects of the insurgency on the economy can also be seen in the influx of migrants from the north to other parts of Nigeria, which has resulted in increased unemployment rates, amongst other things. The war against the insurgency is not simply a fight to counter terrorism, it is also a fight to protect Nigeria’s development, and many brave men have died doing just that.

Perhaps it has not dawned on many in insurgent-free regions of the country that the reason some of us can still walk the streets and go about our daily lives without the fear of terrorist attacks, is because there are courageous soldiers who have sworn to sacrifice their lives to ensure our safety. Most of whom are men from the south, west, and eastern parts of the country deployed to the north, as is stipulated in the Nigerian Army Order of Battle.

In my conversation with the Lieutenant, he recounted an ordeal in August, when he lost some of his men to Boko Haram attacks. “We were returning from the town, heading back to our camp on the outskirts of Maiduguri, when we were attacked by Boko Haram,” he said. According to him, the group had seen them leave camp earlier and laid ambush waiting for their return. “It was ugly,” he said. “I lost a number of my men – friends.” A gun battle ensued but they (the army) were on the defence. However, they recorded a victory two weeks ago when they killed the actual perpetrators of the August attack. It served as a form of consolation for the men he’d lost – sons, fathers, and husbands.

For months now, the Nigerian military has reported victories; they claim that they are winning the war against the insurgency. “We are winning the battle,” said the Lieutenant. Previously, Boko Haram attacks were almost every day, but now, they can barely rear their ugly heads. I’m sure we will beat the deadline given by the President.” When I reminded him of the recent bomb blasts in Kano and Yola, he said, “People need to realise that some Boko Haram members lead normal lives, with families of their own, so there can’t be an immediate and absolute annihilation of them all.” According to the Lieutenant, defeating Boko Haram soldiers is more critical than tackling the growing number of sleeper cell agents in the north.

The Lieutenant, however, did express dissatisfaction with the government. “The government is trying, but their efforts aren’t good enough,” he lamented. Soldiers are underpaid, housing and welfare packages could be better – to make the job appealing, and “we would definitely appreciate better ammunitions too.” But he countered CNN’s interview with a wounded soldier in Jos, “Every injured soldier is well taken care of, we have different hospitals for various levels of treatment,” he explained, but not before saying, “That man (referencing the CNN interview) might not be a soldier, or he was just trying to gain cheap sympathy.”

But even in the face of little resources, our soldiers are fighting a good fight. They spend nights in jungles warding off the enemies. They gear up for battles knowing it could be their last. “Battles are give and take,” said the Lieutenant. “The bullet has no friend.” “It’s like boxing. Once you’re in the ring, you know it’s a win-lose situation.” “I pray every day as I head out to battle. I pray to God for strength, and for the courage to make the right decisions, no matter how tough it could be. I pray for grace and for long life.” For the Lieutenant, as well as for many soldiers, there’s no out. They must fulfil the call to serve their country, which for many of them, is driven by patriotism and pride.

But Nigerians have a hard time seeing these truths. There’s no region or person that isn’t endangered. If you are not a direct victim of war, like your fellow citizens in the north-east, you are a victim of the effects of the insurgency nonetheless – everyone bears the hardship of the failing economy. Perhaps, this realisation will evoke value for the men of the military. The Lieutenant suggests that the government might do well to also sensitise the public on the significance of the military by creating a documentary. According to him, perhaps all Nigerians need is to truly understand their experiences and unpack the narrative from the days of military dictatorship which still permeate the average mind. Maybe then, we could see those in uniform with honour.