Dialogue, Not Firepower: Why Sheikh Ahmad Gumi’s Uncomfortable Warnings Demand Attention
Nigeria’s insecurity crisis has lasted more than a decade, stretching from the northwestern forests to central farmlands and even major highways. Amid this turmoil, few public figures have sparked as much debate or discomfort as Sheikh Ahmad Gumi. A former army captain, trained medical doctor, and prominent Islamic scholar, Gumi has placed himself in the center of one of Nigeria’s most sensitive national conversations: how to end banditry, kidnappings, and rural violence.
Over the years, he has evolved from cleric to mediator, from critic to reluctant national conscience. His message has been steady and provocative: Nigeria cannot shoot its way to peace. Dialogue, empathy, and a reckoning with hidden sponsors are the only real solutions.
This piece distills his most significant statements and argues why, despite the controversy, his warnings should not be dismissed.
A Mediator the Government Never Wanted
Gumi’s involvement began around 2021, when he entered remote bandit enclaves to initiate dialogue, an approach that unsettled authorities and stirred public outrage. But his effort, he insists, was purely humanitarian.
He recounts never venturing alone and never negotiating unconditional forgiveness. Instead, he attempted to halt killings, recover abducted children, and persuade fighters to surrender. He stopped only when the federal government designated the groups as terrorists, effectively shutting the door on talks.
For Gumi, that decision was a turning point. He argued then, and still argues now, that branding every armed group as “terrorist” without addressing root causes only deepens the conflict.
His call for a “blanket amnesty”—similar to the program that pacified Niger Delta militants, was met with skepticism and sometimes hostility. But to him, the contradiction is glaring: If coup plotters and oil militants could be forgiven, why not young herders pushed into violence by poverty, displacement, and extortion by criminal leaders?
Even when he was summoned by the government in 2024 for allegedly “sympathetic” remarks, he emerged insisting the goal was simply to “destroy the monster bedeviling the nation.”
Gumi has never minced words about Nigeria’s reliance on military force.
In multiple statements including one as recent as December 9, 2025—he warned that the army is “overstretched” and structurally unfit for guerrilla warfare. He frequently poses a rhetorical question:
“Where in the world has the military ever defeated guerrilla fighters?”
From Afghanistan to Colombia, he argues that negotiations not brute force ended the worst cycles of violence.
He has also urged Nigerians to temper unrealistic expectations. His reminder is blunt:
“No government can wipe out terrorism completely.”
Not because the government is weak, but because no nation—no matter how powerful—has achieved total kinetic suppression of decentralized armed groups.
Gumi occasionally uses controversial analogies to make a point, such as describing kidnappings as a “lesser evil” compared to indiscriminate massacres—arguing that dialogue has at least curbed some levels of brutality. This framing has drawn criticism, yet it reflects his belief that every conflict has stages, and understanding those stages is necessary to end them.
A Case for Negotiation: “Everyone Talks to Outlaws”
To Gumi, rejecting negotiation is not strength—it is denial.
He insists that the government must open structured communication channels with bandit factions if it truly wants lasting peace. He dismisses the “we do not negotiate with terrorists” mantra as political theatre, noting that the United States negotiated with the Taliban for years.
“Everyone negotiates with outlaws when it will save lives,” he has said repeatedly.
For him, the origins of the crisis lie in decades-old farmer-herder tensions, worsened by population growth, deforestation, cattle theft, and political neglect. The bandits, he says, see themselves not as criminals but as displaced herders fighting an “existential war.”
It is a hard message—one many Nigerians do not want to hear. But Gumi insists that recognizing this mentality is essential to breaking the cycle.
The External Hand: A Crisis With International Shadows
In 2025, Gumi’s rhetoric took an even sharper turn as he accused foreign actors of fueling the turmoil. Although controversial, he argues that the “sudden reversal” in security progress points toward well-funded, external sponsorships.
He claims major world powers benefit strategically from instability in West Africa, a claim amplified in Hausa-language media and online discussions.
His position: Nigeria must increase intelligence cooperation, tighten diplomatic scrutiny, and expose all external links to domestic violence.
Whether one agrees or not, his argument touches a nerve: many Nigerians already believe “insecurity is someone’s business”and the real problem is not the gunmen in the bush, but those who empower them.
Sheikh Gumi is polarizing. He speaks in ways that make many Nigerians uncomfortable. But discomfort is not the same as irrelevance.
His core argument—that dialogue, rehabilitation, and structural reforms are indispensable—is not naive; it is historically accurate. No country has successfully ended rural insurgencies through bullets alone.
Gumi’s critics accuse him of sympathizing with criminals. His supporters see him as a brave, misunderstood bridge. The truth likely lies somewhere in between but that truth does not diminish the value of his insights.
At a time when President Tinubu has declared a nationwide security emergency and deployed more troops, ignoring alternative perspectives is risky. Nigeria’s forests have swallowed too many soldiers, too many children, too many communities for the country to keep repeating the same approach.
Gumi’s warnings deserve attention not because he is always right, but because he is one of the few voices confronting the complexity of the crisis honestly.
Nigeria stands at a crossroads: continue an endless war of attrition, or explore painful, strategic dialogue. Only one path has ever worked in conflicts like this and it may not be the one paved with bullets.