After the Maiduguri attacks, the real question is no longer what happened but where leadership is when it matters most.
Development Diaries reports that Maiduguri, the capital of Borno State, northeast Nigeria, was once again thrown into chaos after a series of suspected suicide attacks killed at least 23 people and left more than a hundred injured.
It is understood that the explosions hit a post office, a busy market, and a teaching hospital just after residents broke their Ramadan fast, turning what should have been an evening of relief into one of panic and grief.
For many Nigerians, the shock is not just about what happened but about how familiar it feels. Since the insurgency by Boko Haram began around 2009, the city has witnessed repeated attacks on markets, places of worship, schools, and public institutions.
At the peak of the crisis around 2014 and 2015, Nigeria recorded some of the deadliest attacks in the world, with thousands killed and millions displaced.
Even when the frequency of attacks slowed in recent years due to intensified military operations, the threat never fully disappeared, with splinter groups like Islamic State West Africa Province launching assaults, reminding citizens that ‘relative peace’ in the northeast often comes with an asterisk.
These latest attacks are particularly unsettling because they happened in the heart of Maiduguri, not in remote border communities where violence is often pushed and, perhaps more conveniently, less visible.
They suggest that the security gains repeatedly announced to Nigerians may not be as deep as they sound because when explosions can still reach crowded civilian spaces in the state capital, they raise urgent questions about intelligence gathering, surveillance, and the overall coordination of security operations.
Yet beyond the security questions lies an equally troubling governance issue, the distance between leadership and the people they are meant to serve. Where is empathy from those in power? If the president is away in the United Kingdom on official duties, does that also mean his presence at home must go on hold?
And if not him, should the vice president not be on the ground in Maiduguri, standing with citizens whose lives have once again been shattered?
Condemnation statements, while necessary, are beginning to sound like a routine response to a recurring tragedy. Nigerians have heard the words ‘deeply saddened’ and ‘strongly condemn’ many times before.
What they are not seeing enough of is visible leadership in moments of crisis. In countries where public accountability is taken seriously, such incidents are often followed by immediate visits from top officials, not just for optics but to signal responsibility, urgency, and solidarity because presence matters.
The responsibility for preventing and responding to such attacks does not sit in one office alone. The president, as commander in chief, holds ultimate responsibility for national security, while the vice president is expected to act in moments where leadership presence is required.
As for the National Security Advisor, he coordinates intelligence and response strategies, as the military and other security agencies are tasked with protecting lives and maintaining territorial control.
Together, they form a system that should ensure that cities like Maiduguri are not repeatedly exposed to the same kind of violence.
So the people of Maiduguri should demand more than statements from their leaders. They should demand visible visits to affected communities in the immediate aftermath of attacks. They should demand clear, public updates on what security measures are being put in place to prevent a recurrence.
They should demand accountability when intelligence failures occur. They should demand that the National Assembly exercise its oversight role on security spending and operations. And they should demand long-term strategies that address the symptoms of insurgency and its root causes, including poverty, displacement, and lack of access to education.
If there is anything more dangerous than an explosion, it is the quiet acceptance that comes after it. Maiduguri deserves more than condolences sent from afar.