THIS DAWN analyst, author, public affairs analyst and columnist, Ifeanyi Izeze, dissects the circumstances surrounding the death of Brigadier General M. Uba and the implications. Read the summary below:
Nigeria is once again confronted with a tragedy that exposes not only the brutality of terrorism but the deep rot within the nation’s security architecture.
Brigadier General M. Uba — a top-ranking senior officer of the Federal Republic — was captured and executed by Boko Haram/ISWAP terrorists.
Yet for more than 72 hours, the Commander-in-Chief, President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, maintained a silence so chilling it bordered on indifference.
And when the eventual statement emerged, it bore all the emotional weight of a routine press release. No outrage. No urgency.
No national mobilization. Only a hollow, obligatory paragraph that reduced the death of a serving General to bureaucratic punctuation.
How did we get here — to a point where the murder of a Brigadier General elicits the same governmental reaction as a traffic advisory?
In Nigeria, silence has become governance, and leadership has been reduced to ceremonial responses after irreversible failures.
The days leading up to General Uba’s death make the tragedy even more infuriating.
The Nigerian military had publicly briefed the nation about violent clashes between Boko Haram and ISWAP around the Lake Chad basin, framing it as “rival terror factions engaging one another.”
But videos later surfaced showing over a hundred boats from both groups battling openly on the lake — for three consecutive days — inside Nigerian territory.
A hundred boats. Stationary targets. Exposed fighters. Three uninterrupted days of fighting.
Yet no coordinated airstrike was launched. No decisive interdiction.
No attempt to degrade both groups simultaneously in what could easily have been the most strategically advantageous opportunity of the year.
The military watched — and did nothing.
Speed, precision and coordination of ISWAP
For those who understand military operations, this wasn’t mere negligence; it was a catastrophic dereliction of duty.
General Uba and his men were later ambushed along the Damboa–Biu axis. Some soldiers fell. The general and a few others escaped into the bush.
Hours later, ISWAP released a staged video announcing his capture and execution.
The speed, precision, and coordination of this operation raise disturbing questions — questions that go far beyond battlefield misfortune.
A Brigadier General does not stroll into battle. He is not a platoon leader. He does not conduct fighting patrols.
He does not travel without deep, multi-layered protection involving intelligence units, surveillance assets, escort elements, and air support on standby.
A brigade headquarters does not move anywhere near ambush range unless something has gone deeply, criminally wrong.
Questions begging for answer
So who cleared the general’s movement? Who planned the escort? Who provided — or failed to provide — the intelligence picture?
How did terrorists position themselves effectively enough to overpower a formation that, doctrinally, should never have been vulnerable?
A retired senior army officer was blunt:
“It is absurd that a brigade commander with three battalions under him would lead a fighting patrol. It is not doctrine.”
Indeed, standard Nigerian military doctrine — inherited from British training structures — dictates that battalions lead while brigade headquarters remain centrally located to coordinate operations.
In conventional settings, a brigade commander should be almost 30 kilometres behind the lead battalion during an advance.
So how did ISWAP get within direct-fire range?
What size of terrorist force deployed for that ambush? How did they know the movement plan? How did they breach every protective layer simultaneously?
Ambushes are usually executed by small, mobile groups.
A brigade-level compromise requires something more sinister — perhaps internal sabotage or deliberate withdrawal of support.
3 senior officers, same theatre, suspicious circumstances
This is not an isolated incident. Colonel Dahiru Bako was killed in an ambush in Sabon Gari-Wajiroko.
Brigadier General Dzarma Zirkusu was killed in a similar ambush in Askira Uba. Now Brigadier General M. Uba.
Three senior officers — all in the same theatre, all under suspiciously similar circumstances.
A defence analyst recently articulated what many insiders whisper privately:
“Any senior officer who insists on discipline and transparency in the North-East steps on dangerous toes. In that theatre, corruption is not a rumour — it is an entire economy.”
This begs an unavoidable question: Was General Uba exposed?
Growing up, Nigerians were taught that the killing of a soldier demanded a fierce national response.
Today, terrorists — and even bandits — kill soldiers, captains, colonels, and now generals, and nothing happens.
No decisive retaliation. No deterrence established. No demonstration that Nigeria values the lives of its defenders.
What does it say about a nation when its generals can be captured and murdered without consequence?
Nigeria is fighting 2 enemies
Nigeria is not losing this war because Boko Haram or ISWAP are supernaturally powerful.
Nigeria is losing because it is fighting two enemies: one in the bush, and another in the comfort of air-conditioned offices.
One shoots; the other collaborates. General Uba may well have been a victim of both.
This death must not be swept aside as “operational hazards.”
It requires a full military audit, an independent investigation, and the dismantling of the corruption networks that have turned the North-East into a multibillion-naira war economy.
Brigadier General M. Uba deserved better — far better — than the chain of failures and betrayals that led to his death.
Nigeria deserved better leadership. Our troops deserved better protection. And the country deserves answers.
If the sacrifice of General Uba and countless others is not to be in vain, then this moment must mark a turning point — a reckoning for a system that has normalized avoidable loss.
