There Is No Place for a Coup in Nigeria

There Is No Place for a Coup in Nigeria

By Ernest Omoarelojie

In recent weeks, Nigeria’s public discourse has been clouded by rumours of a foiled coup plot involving over a dozen military officers and a former governor allegedly “on the run.” While the Defence Headquarters has issued a characteristically ambiguous statement, the very persistence of these rumours—whether grounded in fact or fabricated through disinformation—demands urgent clarification: There is absolutely no place for military intervention in today’s Nigeria.

This isn’t mere rhetoric. It’s a data-driven conclusion supported by Nigeria’s painful history, the catastrophic failures of recent military takeovers across Africa’s Sahel region, and mounting evidence of foreign-backed disinformation campaigns designed to destabilise democratic governance across the continent. While it is true that the statement from the DHQ neither confirmed nor denied the reports, the speculation has continued to spread rapidly across social media—fuelled by conspiracy theories, propaganda, and coordinated disinformation. Yet, amid the noise, one truth must be re-emphasised and declared without ambiguity: There is no place for a coup or military junta in today’s Nigeria.

No grievance, however genuine, justifies a return to military rule. Nigeria’s democracy may be imperfect, but it remains the only framework capable of reforming itself without destroying the nation. We have already paid too high a price for the lessons of authoritarianism. The mere imagination of another coup is not only reckless but profoundly dangerous for a country still healing from decades of military misadventure.

Between 1966 and 1999, Nigeria endured six successful coups and several failed attempts. The first, in January 1966, plunged the country into chaos, triggering a civil war that claimed over a million lives and left deep ethnic and regional scars that still shape our politics today. Those years of military interregnum—29 in total—brought suspended constitutions, curtailed freedoms, and economic mismanagement that impoverished generations.
By 1998, Nigeria’s per capita income had declined by nearly 40 per cent from its 1980 levels, inflation had soared, and international sanctions had rendered the nation a pariah. Between 1960 and 1999, Nigeria earned more than $350 billion from oil exports, yet emerged with decrepit infrastructure, foreign debt exceeding $30 billion, and rampant poverty. Transparency International later estimated that at least $5 billion was stolen under one military regime alone.
We cannot forget those years. Military rule did not save Nigeria—it nearly destroyed her.

Since 1999, despite setbacks, democracy has delivered measurable progress. Nigeria has experienced seven consecutive elections and four peaceful transfers of power between parties—unprecedented in our history. Our economy has grown from $46 billion in 1999 to over $440 billion today, making Nigeria one of Africa’s largest economies. Freedom of expression and civic activism have flourished. The media is freer than ever, and civil society continues to shape national debate. These gains, however modest, are the fruits of civilian rule.

Contrast this with recent experiences in Africa’s Sahel region, where coups have been romanticised as patriotic revolutions. In Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger, soldiers promised stability but delivered chaos. The Armed Conflict Location & Event Data Project (ACLED) reports that violent incidents in Mali have increased by more than 150 per cent since the 2021 coup. Burkina Faso recorded over 8,000 conflict-related deaths in 2023—its bloodiest year on record. Niger, once a model of Western partnership, now faces sanctions, diplomatic isolation, and growing insecurity.

Far from restoring order, military juntas have exacerbated corruption, restricted freedoms, and weaponised propaganda to conceal their failures. Transparency International’s indices confirm that corruption perceptions have deteriorated across all junta-led states. Freedom House now ranks every coup-affected nation as “Not Free.” The message is unmistakable: military rule breeds repression and decline, not progress.

Equally alarming is the rise of disinformation designed to destabilise democracies like Nigeria’s. Research by the Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD) and EU DisinfoLab has uncovered coordinated online campaigns—some linked to foreign actors—spreading pro-coup sentiment across West Africa. These networks exploit legitimate frustrations over insecurity and poverty to romanticise military rule and sow distrust in civilian institutions.

This is not patriotism; it is manipulation. Every Nigerian who forwards unverified rumours of a coup or glorifies soldiers as saviours is, knowingly or not, amplifying the work of those who wish to fracture our democracy from within.
Let us be clear: democracy is not perfect. Citizens are frustrated by corruption, unemployment, and governance failures. However, the answer lies in deeper reform, not a return to authoritarianism. Democracy allows us to protest, vote, speak, and litigate. Military rule silences all of that. The difference between democracy and dictatorship is not perfection—it is the presence of choice.

Even now, Nigeria’s institutions continue to evolve. The 2022 Electoral Act has improved transparency and electoral integrity. The Freedom of Information Act empowers journalists to demand accountability. The judiciary, although imperfect, is increasingly asserting its independence. These are steps forward—achievements that would vanish overnight under a military junta.

Nigeria’s Armed Forces have repeatedly affirmed their loyalty to the Constitution. That commitment must be protected and celebrated. Civil society, the media, and citizens must also remain vigilant, resisting any attempt—real or imagined—to drag Nigeria back to the dark era of decrees and fear.

In today’s interconnected world, a coup would not only destroy Nigeria’s fragile stability but also trigger economic collapse, diplomatic isolation, and social unrest. The Sahel’s tragedies are warning enough: the gun cannot build what only governance can.

Nigeria’s future lies not in the barrel of a gun but in the ballot box, in civic participation, and in accountable leadership. The path of democracy is hard, but it is the only one that leads forward. For all our imperfections, democracy gives us hope, adaptability, and voice. Military rule silences all three.

And for that reason alone, there is—and must forever be—no place for a coup in today’s Nigeria.

Ernest Omoarelojie is the Director of Media and Communications for Hope Alive Initiative, a pro-good-governance advocate in Nigeria

There Is No Place for a Coup in Nigeria