The body of Major General Hassan Dauda has been found in Nigeria’s Kaduna State, three weeks after he was abducted by unknown gunmen. For those of us watching from afar, it is easy to reduce this to another headline, another tally of violence in a region that has become synonymous with insecurity. But on the ground, the news carries a different weight. It speaks to a slow, creeping erosion of order that affects not just high-profile figures, but the daily lives of ordinary Nigerians and the expatriates who work alongside them.
General Dauda was not a politician. He was a career soldier, a man who had served his country in the fight against Boko Haram. His kidnapping, and now his murder, sends a chilling signal: no one is safe. The British intelligence community has apparently taken note, assessing the threat to expats as heightened. This is not a new fear, but it is a familiar one. Expatriates in Lagos have long lived behind high walls and armed guards, but the violence has moved closer. It is no longer just in the north; it is everywhere.
What we are seeing is the slow unraveling of the social contract. When a general can be snatched from his home, what hope for the teacher, the trader, the missionary? The British assessment is focused on security, but the cultural shift is just as significant. There is a growing sense among foreign workers that Nigeria, for all its opportunities, is becoming a place where risk outweighs reward. I have spoken to executives who are now reluctant to bring their families. They talk of 'golden handcuffs' and 'security briefings' as a routine part of their morning.
Yet it would be wrong to paint Nigerians as passive victims. The real story is one of resilience. Friends who run businesses in Kano tell me they have learned to navigate a world where the police are often absent and the army is overstretched. They rely on local networks, on community vigilance. It is a throwback to an older way of living, where trust is earned face to face, not guaranteed by the state.
The death of General Dauda is a tragedy, but it is also a warning. If British intelligence is right, and the threat to expats is increasing, we will see more departures, more embassies tightening their protocols. The human cost is measured not just in lives lost, but in opportunities foreclosed, in friendships cut short. For now, the streets of Abuja and Lagos remain filled with people determined to get on with it. But the cracks are showing. And once trust disappears, it is very hard to rebuild.
