Nigeria’s scars and strength tell a story of a nation that refuses to give up, no matter how many times it has been tested.
There are few things more dignifying than when a towering public figure combines strength with humility. General Lucky Irabor, the former Chief of Defence Staff, perfectly embodies this rare mix.
Behind his calm military discipline lies a thoughtful and reflective man who believes that leadership should inspire respect through service, not fear.
Nigeria’s Scars and Strength
In his remarkable book, SCARS: Nigeria’s Journey and the Boko Haram Conundrum, Irabor offers a deep and honest reflection on the struggles that have shaped Nigeria.
Well, it is not a self-centered memoir but an insightful exploration of the nation’s history, politics, and the scars of its conflicts. The book takes readers beyond the battlefield into the mind of a soldier-scholar who believes that Nigeria’s greatest wars are not always fought with guns but with ideas, policies, and choices.
A Soldier’s Honest Reflection
From the first page, Irabor writes not as a retired general seeking praise but as a patriot in search of solutions. His tone is humble but firm, analytical yet emotional.
Former President Olusegun Obasanjo, in his foreword, calls the book “a soldier’s honest reflection on a nation’s unfinished journey,” and indeed, every chapter proves that right.
Irabor’s approach is scholarly. He references historical documents, expert opinions, and real-life events, blending facts with personal observations. The result is a balanced analysis that connects Nigeria’s past to its present, exposing the roots of insecurity, corruption, and leadership failure.
Nigeria’s Scars and Strength
Civilian Hands Behind Coups
One of the most striking revelations in SCARS is Irabor’s claim that no coup in Nigeria’s history has ever succeeded without civilian collaboration.
According to him, while soldiers might pull the trigger, it is often civilians who load the gun; manipulating, encouraging, or benefiting from military takeovers.
He argues that the military, though sometimes misguided, often acts “through the prism of national defence,” while opportunistic politicians use such interventions for personal or ethnic advantage.
This view challenges the long lived belief that military coups were purely the making of soldiers. Irabor’s perspective calls for a shared sense of accountability, urging Nigeria’s political class to stop romanticising the past and instead strengthen the institutions that protect democracy.
Roots of Northern Conflict
Irabor also delves into Northern Nigeria’s recurring religious and social crises. He traces the origin of organized militancy to the 1804 jihad led by Usman Dan Fodio, linking it to later movements that mixed faith, politics, and rebellion.
While some may find this interpretation controversial, Irabor carefully balances it with historical context, explaining how colonial policies and religious revivalism on both Islamic and Christian sides deepened divisions.
Nigeria’s Scars and Strength
He presents the North as a region blessed with leadership but burdened by contradictions, that despite producing many of Nigeria’s rulers and top public officials, the North remains home to the country’s highest rates of poverty, illiteracy, and insecurity.
Irabor calls this “a betrayal of potential,” arguing that the region’s elite have failed to transform power into progress.
He supports his claims with World Bank data showing that the ten poorest Nigerian states are in the North-East and North-West, where 87 percent of the country’s poorest citizens live. His verdict is sharp: “Religious manipulation, poor governance, and elite hypocrisy continue to rob millions of dignity.”
Faith, Politics, and Hypocrisy
A central theme in Irabor’s reflection is the abuse of religion for political gain. Using the 1999 Sharia Movement in Zamfara as an example, he explains how political leaders turned faith into a tool for control instead of social transformation.
By Citing former Emir Sanusi Lamido Sanusi, he laments the “commodification of piety,” where religion becomes a stage for public display rather than private devotion.
Irabor’s argument is not anti-religion; it is a call for balance. He urges Northern leaders to emulate progressive Muslim societies like Saudi Arabia and Turkey, which have harmonised faith with education, technology, and modern governance.
He particularly condemns the Almajiri system, calling it an abuse of children and a distortion of Islamic principles. “No faith,” he writes, “sanctions the institutionalisation of begging in the name of learning.”
Nigeria’s Scars and Strength
The Dead Horse Theory
One of the most powerful metaphors in SCARS is Irabor’s “Dead Horse Theory.” He uses it to describe Nigeria’s habit of holding onto failed systems instead of reforming them.
The phrase “beating a dead horse,” he explains, captures how the country continues to invest in obsolete ideas and ineffective institutions.
He lists examples such as the duplication of examination bodies like WAEC and NECO, the unproductive Nomadic Education Programme, and the inconsistent federal character policies.
To him, these are not signs of inclusiveness but symptoms of inefficiency and misplaced priorities. Irabor’s message is clear: nations do not progress by repeating mistakes; they grow by learning from them.
Understanding Boko Haram
Irabor’s discussion of Boko Haram is among the book’s most enlightening sections. He traces the insurgency’s roots from the Maitatsine uprisings of the 1980s to the Sharia riots of the early 2000s.
The movement’s founder, Mohammed Yusuf, began as a member of Borno’s Sharia Implementation Committee before breaking away and radicalising disenchanted youths.
Irabor exposes the paradox of Boko Haram as a group that rejects Western education but depends on Western technology for survival. Their weapons, vehicles, and communication tools are products of the same civilisation they condemn.
To him, Boko Haram’s rise is not just a religious problem but a reflection of failed governance, inequality, and social system neglect.
Nigeria’s Scars and Strength
He lists the main drivers of extremism as “unaddressed political grievances, the weaponization of religion and tribe, a biased legal system, and weak institutions.” In essence, terrorism thrives where governance can’t.
The Foreign Factor
The book also highlights what Irabor calls the “international conspiracy” against Nigeria. He accuses certain foreign powers, media outlets, and organisations of spreading falsehoods, funding propaganda, and undermining Nigeria’s image.
Whether or not one agrees with this claim, it underlines his belief that national security should include information warfare by protecting the truth as much as the territory.
A Path to Healing
In his conclusion, Irabor refuses to give in to despair. Instead, he proposes a path toward national renewal; one built on truth, inclusion, education, and honest leadership. “The time for change is now,” he declares, “and it must begin with courage and commitment to justice.”
SCARS is more than a book; it is a national mirror. It reflects our wounds from corruption and ethnic politics to poverty and hypocrisy but it also reveals the strength that still lies within us.
General Lucky Irabor does not write to condemn but to awaken. His message is simple yet powerful, he mean Nigeria can heal, but only if we stop hiding our scars and start learning from the past.
Nigeria’s Scars and Strength
