By Emmanuel Nnadozie Onwubiko

Today’s reflection is on a new and increasingly significant battlefront opened by the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) under the leadership of its Chairman and Chief Executive Officer, Brig. Gen. Mohamed Buba Marwa (rtd.).

The agency’s recent operations have revealed an alarming development in Nigeria’s illicit-drug landscape: sophisticated criminal networks are allegedly moving beyond the traditional business of drug trafficking and establishing clandestine, industrial-scale manufacturing facilities in remote forests and rural communities.

The discovery of such facilities in Ogun, Oyo and, more recently, Enugu State points to an evolving challenge for Nigeria’s law-enforcement agencies. According to the NDLEA, some of these operations involve Nigerian criminal networks working with foreign technical specialists and alleged transnational drug syndicates.

It is against this background that I have chosen the expression “Ọsọ Marwa” for this reflection.

The phrase is inspired by the historical expression “Ọsọ Abiola,” which has been used in discussions of the mass movement of many Igbo people from different parts of Nigeria to the South-East during the political crisis that followed the annulment of the June 12, 1993 presidential election.

The political crisis that followed the annulment of the election produced widespread protests, repression and violence in several parts of Nigeria. The election, which was widely believed to have been won by Chief Moshood Kashimawo Olawale Abiola, was annulled by the military government headed by General Ibrahim Badamasi Babangida.

For many Nigerians, particularly those who had experienced the violence and anti-Igbo pogroms of the 1960s, the political instability of the early 1990s revived painful memories of the past.

Many Igbo residents who had built businesses and livelihoods outside the South-East became apprehensive about their safety and the safety of their families and property. Some consequently returned to their ancestral homes in the South-East.

The movement became part of the political memory surrounding the aftermath of June 12 and was popularly associated with the expression “Ọsọ Abiola.”

The historical experience also demonstrated how political instability can produce profound social and economic consequences. Businesses were disrupted, properties were abandoned or lost, and communities across the country were affected by the climate of fear.

Today, however, I am using the expression “Ọsọ Marwa” in an entirely different and positive context.

Unlike the fearful movement associated with “Ọsọ Abiola,” “Ọsọ Marwa” represents the movement of law-enforcement authorities into places where drug traffickers apparently believed they could operate beyond the reach of the state.

The forests are no longer necessarily safe havens for clandestine drug laboratories.

A new drug battlefield

Nigeria’s drug problem is no longer confined to the trafficking of substances imported from elsewhere.

The recent NDLEA operations suggest that criminal organisations are increasingly attempting to establish production capacity inside Nigeria.

In May 2026, the NDLEA announced the dismantling of what it described as a sophisticated Nigerian-Mexican methamphetamine production syndicate operating from a clandestine laboratory hidden in the Abidagba forest in Ijebu East Local Government Area of Ogun State.

The agency said 10 suspects were arrested, including the alleged kingpin, three Mexican nationals and six Nigerian collaborators. It also reported the seizure of methamphetamine and chemical substances which it valued at more than ₦480 billion.

According to the NDLEA, the laboratory was operated by the Anochili Innocent Drug Trafficking Organisation and was being used for large-scale production.

The agency said the operation followed months of intelligence gathering and involved coordinated raids in Ogun and Lagos states.

NDLEA Chairman Marwa warned at the time that criminal networks were increasingly employing foreign specialists to establish production facilities in rural communities.

That warning was followed by another major operation in Oyo State.

The Oyo forest laboratory

On June 17, 2026, tactical operatives of the NDLEA raided what the agency described as a fortified, industrial-scale clandestine methamphetamine laboratory deep inside the forest of Tapa Village in Ibarapa North Local Government Area of Oyo State.

The operation resulted in the arrest of five alleged members of the syndicate: a 56-year-old Mexican methamphetamine specialist, Jose Villa Ochoa, and four Nigerians identified by the NDLEA as Maxwell Uche Nevoh, 30; Olatunji Yusuf, 37; Bankole Akeem Owolabi, 45; and Ganiu Monsiu, 43.

The NDLEA said the Mexican national had allegedly been brought into Nigeria to provide technical expertise for large-scale production.

The agency subsequently conducted a forensic examination of the facility and reported recovering substantial quantities of precursor chemicals and industrial processing equipment.

The NDLEA said field tests confirmed the presence of methamphetamine in samples recovered from the facility and that the exhibits were secured for evidentiary purposes.

Speaking through the Director of Media and Advocacy, Femi Babafemi, at a press briefing in Abuja on June 24, Marwa commended the officers involved in the operation.

He described the facility as evidence of a sophisticated transnational operation rather than a rudimentary laboratory.

According to Marwa, the proximity of the Oyo facility to the earlier Ogun discovery suggested an attempt by criminal networks to establish a synthetic-drug manufacturing corridor in the South-West.

His message to the criminal networks was unequivocal: hiding in the forests would not place them beyond the reach of the NDLEA.

‘We will track you into the forests’

Marwa declared:

«“Let the message go out clearly to all drug cartels, domestic and international that Nigeria is not, and will never be, a safe haven for your illicit trade. We will find you in the cities, we will track you into the forests, and we will dismantle your infrastructure of death.”»

The statement captures the essence of what I call “Ọsọ Marwa.”

The metaphor is simple: if the criminal networks move into the forests, the law-enforcement agencies must be prepared to follow them.

If they abandon the cities for rural communities, intelligence gathering must follow them.

If they attempt to conceal their operations behind legitimate-looking farms and properties, forensic investigation and financial intelligence must expose them.

And if they bring foreign technical expertise into Nigeria, international cooperation must be strengthened to identify and dismantle the networks behind the operations.

The emerging challenge is therefore not merely one of arresting street-level drug dealers. It is increasingly a battle against organised criminal enterprises with access to finance, logistics, technology, international connections and specialised expertise.

The Enugu development

The latest development makes the situation even more concerning.

On September 24, 2026, the NDLEA announced the dismantling of another alleged Nigerian-Mexican methamphetamine syndicate operating a clandestine laboratory in Eziama community, Obeagu, Awgu Local Government Area of Enugu State.

The agency said two alleged kingpins, 45-year-old Chukwu Obumneme Christopher, alias Brown, and 60-year-old Chukwu Georginus Monday, alias George, were arrested following months of intelligence gathering and surveillance.

The NDLEA alleged that the operation involved a Mexican cartel member, Rodriguez Villanueva, whom the agency identified as being based in Mexico City.

The two suspects were subsequently arraigned before Justice Mabel Taiye Segun-Bello of the Federal High Court, Enugu Judicial Division.

According to the NDLEA, they were charged with offences including conspiracy, the organisation, management and financing of a drug-trafficking organisation, and unlawful possession of precursor chemicals allegedly used in methamphetamine production.

They pleaded not guilty, and the court fixed October 21, 2026, for trial following an application by the agency for an accelerated hearing.

The NDLEA said its investigation traced movements between Lagos, Enugu and Anambra states before leading investigators to the compound in Obeagu.

The agency further said the laboratory was fitted with improvised reactors and distillation equipment and was capable of producing methamphetamine in commercial quantities.

Importantly, because the matter is now before the court, the allegations against the defendants remain allegations until determined through due judicial process.

That distinction is essential in responsible journalism.

From Ogun to Oyo and Enugu

Taken together, the recent cases raise an important national-security question.

Is Nigeria witnessing the emergence of a domestic manufacturing infrastructure for synthetic drugs?

The NDLEA’s own account of the recent investigations provides grounds for concern.

In Ogun, the agency reported an industrial-scale laboratory allegedly linked to a Nigerian-Mexican network.

In Oyo, it reported another industrial-scale laboratory in a forest and the arrest of a Mexican technical specialist alongside four Nigerians.

In Enugu, it reported another clandestine laboratory allegedly linked to a Nigerian-Mexican network and subsequently arraigned two Nigerian suspects.

The agency has also referred to similar facilities previously uncovered in Ebonyi State.

This pattern deserves sustained attention from the Federal Government, the National Assembly, security agencies, state governments and local communities.

It is not enough to dismantle one laboratory at a time.

The networks that finance these operations, procure equipment and precursor chemicals, recruit specialists, provide secure locations and distribute the finished products must also be investigated.

The human cost

Behind the enormous figures attached to seized drugs are real human beings.

Methamphetamine and other illicit substances can cause devastating consequences for individuals, families and communities.

The danger is particularly serious for young people.

Every clandestine laboratory dismantled by the NDLEA potentially represents a supply chain that could have moved dangerous substances into Nigerian communities and, in some cases, international markets.

That is why the recent forest operations deserve to be understood not merely as law-enforcement successes but as warnings about the changing structure of organised crime in Nigeria.

The criminals are adapting.

Law enforcement must adapt faster.

The Edo example

The broader problem is not limited to clandestine laboratories.

The NDLEA and its state commands have continued to uncover warehouses and other facilities allegedly used for storing illicit substances.

In Edo State, for example, NDLEA officials reported the discovery of a drug storage facility in Benin City and the arrest of a husband and wife, Christian Chukwuka and Nwanneka Christian.

According to the account released by the agency, officers recovered substantial quantities of cannabis products from the facility and commenced investigations into the case.

The suspects’ alleged involvement remains a matter for the courts.

Such operations demonstrate that the drug supply chain is not a single phenomenon. It includes production, importation, transportation, storage, distribution and retail networks.

The response must therefore address every stage of that chain.

Technology, intelligence and funding

The most important lesson from the recent operations is that modern drug enforcement cannot depend exclusively on conventional policing.

The criminals are increasingly sophisticated.

They may use remote locations, legitimate-looking businesses, complex logistics and international connections to conceal their activities.

Consequently, the NDLEA needs sustained investment in intelligence gathering, forensic science, surveillance technology, border intelligence, financial investigation and international cooperation.

The agency also needs the human capacity to analyse increasingly sophisticated criminal networks.

This is where the Federal Government and the National Assembly have an important responsibility.

The debate should not be restricted to how many arrests the NDLEA makes or how many kilograms of drugs it seizes.

The more fundamental question is whether the agency has the sustainable financial and technological capacity required to confront organised drug crime over the long term.

A call for institutional strengthening

On behalf of the Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA), we therefore reiterate our call for a serious review of the institutional and financial framework governing the NDLEA.

The Executive and Legislative Arms of government should examine mechanisms that would provide the agency with sustainable and predictable funding, including carefully regulated frameworks concerning proceeds recovered through lawful asset-forfeiture processes, subject of course to constitutional safeguards, judicial oversight, transparency and accountability.

The objective should not be to create an agency that is financially dependent on the proceeds of crime.

Rather, the objective should be to ensure that an institution charged with confronting highly sophisticated criminal organisations has adequate resources to perform its statutory responsibilities.

There is also a compelling need for stronger technological capacity.

The NDLEA must be equipped to detect clandestine laboratories, analyse chemical evidence, trace financial networks, monitor organised criminal movements and cooperate effectively with international law-enforcement partners.

The forests of Nigeria must not become the new sanctuary of international drug cartels.

The meaning of ‘Ọsọ Marwa’

That brings me back to “Ọsọ Marwa.”

The expression, as I use it here, is not about people fleeing from danger.

It is about law enforcement refusing to allow danger to hide.

The criminal networks may move from the cities to farms.

They may move from farms to forests.

They may attempt to cross state borders or international boundaries.

But the reach of the law must move with them.

That is the real meaning of “Ọsọ Marwa.”

The recent operations in Ogun, Oyo and Enugu demonstrate the importance of intelligence-led enforcement and international cooperation. They also demonstrate why the Nigerian state must remain several steps ahead of criminal networks that are constantly changing their methods.

The war against illicit drugs cannot be won by arrests alone.

It requires prevention, public education, treatment and rehabilitation for people affected by substance abuse, disruption of criminal finances, effective prosecution, international cooperation and sustained investment in law enforcement.

Most importantly, it requires the political will to ensure that organised criminal networks understand that Nigeria is not an easy operating environment.

The forests may be deep.

The networks may be sophisticated.

The money may be enormous.

But the law must go deeper.

And that is why, in this new battle against the emerging forest-based drug economy, “Ọsọ Marwa” must continue.

EMMANUEL NNADOZIE ONWUBIKO is the Founder of the Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA) and a former National Commissioner of the National Human Rights Commission of Nigeria.

By George Mgbeleke

The Human Rights Writers Association of Nigeria (HURIWA) has expressed deep concern over the continuing killings in Plateau State despite the huge sums reportedly released as security votes by the state government, demanding an immediate explanation of how the funds have been deployed to protect citizens.

HURIWA said the latest revelation that Plateau State released N18.9 billion in security votes in 2024 and another N17.28 billion between January and September 2025 cannot be ignored against the background of the continuing attacks and killings of innocent citizens across the state.

The rights group in a statement signed its national coordinator,Comrade Emmanuel Nnadozie Onwubiko,said the issue is not simply about the size of the security vote but about accountability, transparency and measurable security outcomes.

HURIWA therefore asks the Plateau State Governor: What exactly is the government doing with these massive security votes if citizens continue to be killed and communities remain vulnerable to attacks?

The question becomes even more compelling because the Governor has publicly acknowledged the severity of the killings and insecurity confronting the state.

HURIWA said it is not accusing the Plateau State Government of diverting or misappropriating the funds. However, the enormous public expenditure on security creates a legitimate obligation for the government to demonstrate what the money has achieved.

The association’s position follows a Saturday PUNCH analysis of state budget implementation reports showing that 10 states—Borno, Plateau, Ondo, Ebonyi, Katsina, Nasarawa, Adamawa, Edo, Bayelsa and Delta—could collectively spend about N140 billion on security votes in 2026 if the current pattern continues.

The analysis showed that the 10 states released about N80 billion in 2024, representing 72.2 per cent of the N110.8 billion budgeted for security votes.

In the first nine months of 2025 alone, they reportedly released N87.87 billion from a collective provision of N127.36 billion.

HURIWA finds it troubling that security expenditure continues to rise in the face of persistent killings, kidnappings and attacks in several parts of the country.

Security votes are intended to assist governors in responding to security emergencies, intelligence gathering and rapid-response operations. But where billions of naira are released without detailed public disclosure of their utilisation, citizens are left with legitimate questions about the effectiveness and accountability of such spending.

HURIWA consequently calls on the Plateau State Government to provide citizens with a broad, transparent account of how its security votes have been deployed, including the security interventions financed by the funds and the measurable outcomes recorded.

While operational details that could compromise security operations need not be disclosed, the government should be able to account for the public resources entrusted to it.

HURIWA also calls on the Plateau State House of Assembly and other relevant oversight institutions to strengthen their scrutiny of security expenditure and demand evidence that appropriated funds are producing tangible improvements in the protection of lives and property.

The association recalls that citizens do not merely need budgetary announcements; they need security that can be felt in their communities.

HURIWA therefore urges the Plateau State Government to urgently review its security strategy, strengthen intelligence-led operations, improve protection for vulnerable communities and ensure that perpetrators of attacks are arrested and prosecuted.

The Governor must wake up to the urgency of the situation and stop the killings of Plateau citizens.

HURIWA insists that no security vote, no matter how large, should become a substitute for transparency, accountability and effective protection of human lives.

By

Ken Harries, Esq.

There is a point at which political contestation ceases to be an argument about ideas and becomes an assault on the very boundaries that make civil society possible. That point is reached when a private telephone conversation is allegedly recorded, extracted from its original context and released into the public domain as political ammunition.

The latest controversy surrounding an audio recording purported to be a telephone conversation between Senator Godswill Akpabio and Sandra C. Duru, a.k.a. Professor Mgbeke, therefore deserves to be examined beyond the personalities involved. It raises a much larger question: What happens to a society when private conversations become raw material for public propaganda?

Recent reports indicate that Sandra Duru released a nine-minute audio recording on social media and presented portions of it as a private conversation involving the Senate President. Yet, significantly, the recording has not been independently authenticated, and questions remain about the identity of the voices, the circumstances in which the conversation was recorded, and whether the excerpts constitute the complete conversation. Those uncertainties are not minor technicalities; they are at the heart of responsible public communication.

PRIVACY IS NOT A POLITICAL LUXURY
Nigeria’s Constitution is unequivocal in recognising privacy as a fundamental right. Section 37 guarantees and protects the privacy of citizens, including their homes, correspondence and telephone conversations. That constitutional safeguard does not disappear because the individuals involved are politicians, public officials, activists or controversial personalities. Indeed, public office should never be interpreted as a wholesale surrender of personal privacy.

The Nigeria Data Protection Act 2023 reinforces this principle by establishing a legal framework for protecting personal information and regulating its processing. Among its stated objectives are the protection of fundamental rights and freedoms, the safeguarding of personal data, and the requirement that personal data be processed in a fair, lawful and accountable manner.

The central question, therefore, is not whether an audio recording can generate political excitement; it obviously can. The question is whether private communication can be captured, processed, edited, reproduced and disseminated for political purposes without lawful justification, proper authorisation or regard for the rights of the people whose voices and personal information are involved. That is a much more serious question.

THE CYBER DIMENSION CANNOT BE IGNORED
The Cybercrimes (Prohibition, Prevention, etc.) Act, as amended in 2024, also contains provisions concerning unlawful interception of non-public computer communications and judicially authorised interception of electronic communications. The legislation defines interception broadly enough to include listening to or recording communication data in specified circumstances. But legal precision matters, particularly when criminal liability is being discussed.

It would be premature for commentators to declare, without establishing the facts, that the mere existence or publication of this particular audio automatically constitutes a criminal offence under the Cybercrimes Act. If, however, the evidence establishes that a private electronic communication was intercepted or obtained without lawful authority, the circumstances could raise serious questions under the applicable constitutional, data-protection and cybercrime frameworks. That is precisely why an independent investigation matters: the law should determine the legality, not social media.

PUBLIC INTEREST IS NOT A BLANK CHEQUE
There is another important distinction that the Nigerian public must begin to make. A matter involving a public official may be of public interest without every private conversation involving that official becoming public property. Public interest is not the same thing as public curiosity.

A genuine public-interest disclosure ordinarily requires more than the ability to attract clicks, outrage or political engagement. It requires consideration of authenticity, context, provenance, relevance and the legitimate rights of the people involved. A fragment of an alleged private conversation, detached from the circumstances in which it occurred and presented to millions of people without independent authentication, can easily become something very different from responsible whistleblowing.

It can become narrative engineering, particularly when selected material is used to encourage the public towards a predetermined interpretation. When such narrative engineering is repeatedly used to shape public perception, it begins to resemble propaganda rather than public accountability.

THE MORAL QUESTION
There is also a moral dimension that no statute can completely capture. Politics is already a theatre of suspicion, rivalry and competing narratives. If every private conversation is potentially a future weapon, trust disappears from public life. People stop speaking candidly, officials become afraid of legitimate conversations, and citizens become unwilling to engage public figures.

Political communication then gradually degenerates into a marketplace where the most sensational fragment—not necessarily the most truthful account—commands the greatest attention. This is where the conduct surrounding the dissemination of private conversations raises profound ethical questions.

A society that normalises the conversion of private conversations into political weapons risks producing a culture in which nothing is private, context is disposable and reputation is collateral damage. That is not democratic accountability; it is the erosion of the ethical architecture upon which democratic accountability depends.

THE PROBLEM WITH THE “MERCHANT OF PROPAGANDA” MODEL
There is a growing phenomenon in digital politics in which controversy itself becomes a political commodity. The objective is no longer necessarily to establish facts, but to generate a continuous stream of allegations, recordings, screenshots, insinuations and counter-allegations until the public becomes emotionally exhausted and truth becomes indistinguishable from repetition.

The danger is particularly acute when the communicator becomes both the source of the allegation and the narrator of the evidence. That model creates an obvious credibility problem because the public is effectively being asked to accept not merely the allegation but also the interpretation supplied by the person disseminating it.

That is why independent verification is indispensable. A recording should be authenticated, its provenance established, its full context examined and any editing disclosed. The circumstances of its acquisition should also be investigated. Where there are allegations of unlawful interception or misuse of personal data, the appropriate regulatory and law-enforcement authorities should be allowed to do their work.

FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION HAS RESPONSIBILITIES
Freedom of expression is indispensable to democracy, but so is the right to privacy. These principles should not be presented as enemies. Responsible journalism, legitimate whistleblowing and public-interest disclosure have their place, but none of them should become convenient labels for every unauthorised exposure of private communications.

The democratic answer to disputed conduct is evidence, investigation and due process—not digital vigilantism. If the recording is authentic and contains evidence of wrongdoing, the proper response is to submit the evidence to the appropriate institutions and allow the facts to be tested. If it is unauthorised, manipulated, selectively edited or misleadingly presented, those facts should also be established through proper investigation. Either way, the truth deserves a process more rigorous than a Facebook post.

THIS IS BIGGER THAN AKPABIO
The most important lesson from this episode should not be about Senator Godswill Akpabio alone; it should be about the Nigeria we are creating. Today, it may be a conversation involving a Senate President. Tomorrow, it could be a judge, journalist, businessman, civil servant, academic, clergy member or ordinary citizen.

If the principle becomes that anyone who possesses a private recording is entitled to publish it whenever politically convenient, then privacy ceases to be a right and becomes merely a temporary privilege enjoyed by those who have not yet been recorded. That is a dangerous trend with implications extending far beyond the personalities involved in the present controversy.

The constitutional guarantee of privacy cannot be selectively defended, data protection cannot become a slogan deployed only when convenient, and cybercrime legislation cannot be invoked selectively. Political communication cannot be allowed to become a free-for-all in which reputations are tried and convicted on social media before evidence is examined.

LET THE LAW SPEAK
There is, therefore, a compelling case for the relevant authorities to establish the facts surrounding any purported private telephone recording now circulating. Who made the recording? How was it obtained? Was consent given? Was the communication intercepted? Was it edited? Who first disseminated it, and for what purpose? What personal data were processed? Was there a lawful basis for that processing? And does the dissemination violate any applicable constitutional, statutory or judicial protection? Those are questions for evidence, not conjecture.

There is, however, a broader principle worth defending: private communication should not become political ammunition merely because it can generate attention. A democracy requires trust, evidence, restraint and respect for the law. Public accountability is strengthened, not weakened, when allegations are subjected to verification and established processes rather than determined by the velocity of social-media circulation.

The real moral deficit in contemporary public discourse is not that people disagree. It is that the boundaries between legitimate scrutiny and intrusion can become dangerously blurred when private material is circulated without adequate attention to authenticity, context, provenance and applicable law. Once society becomes indifferent to those boundaries, everyone—not merely public officials—has reason to be concerned about the future of privacy.

Ken Harries, Esq., is an Abuja-based Development Communication Strategist.