Ekiti has passed a state police bill, and every other governor just went quiet

The Ekiti State House of Assembly has passed a bill to establish a state police. Yes, a police force owned by the state. Not “Abuja police on loan.” Not “Oga at the top, please wait for approval from Force Headquarters.” The state’s own police, in a state-sized uniform, with a state-sized problem when it’s time to buy the uniform.

Now, you know how it works in this country. For decades, if a thief broke into your house in Ekiti, the police would arrive after a three-stage approval. First, the DPO needs a vehicle. Second, the vehicle needs fuel. Third, the fuel needs “motivation.” By the time the officers arrive, the thief has finished, eaten your jollof, and gone home to sleep. Your complaint then enters the system, where it will be treated with the urgency of a snail carrying a suitcase.

So Ekiti said, “Enough. We’ll do it ourselves.” And honestly? Beautiful. The Ekiti are the same people who gave us Amotekun and the very reasonable idea that people who live in a place should be allowed to protect it. Who knew?

But let me add the usual Nigerian caution, because gist is not complete without suspicion. The big question that every uncle at the beer parlour is asking is: who will be the commander? Because if the answer is “the governor’s cousin’s friend from the campaign team,” then we may have just created the most efficient political HR department in history. Imagine your neighbour’s quarrel with the chairman becoming “a security matter.” Imagine the state police arriving to settle a dispute over a goat, with sirens and a press release.

The Senate has reportedly said states can’t just rush in. The bill requires state laws, minimum standards, independent commissions and certification, and until a state police is ready, the federal police stays on duty. In short, there is homework, and Nigerians know what happens to homework. Somebody will say “the dog ate it,” and somebody else will say “it was in the committee.”

Then there’s the money. State police wear uniforms, drive vehicles, eat food, need training, need salaries and, God forbid, need to be paid on time. Ekiti is a lovely state, but nobody told me it’s printing naira. Let’s see how the budget answers “who pays the policemen in month three?”

Still, credit where it’s due. For once, a government isn’t waiting for Abuja to say “yes, you may now protect your own people.” That alone deserves applause, with one clap, politely, so we don’t scare the governor into thinking we’ve forgotten the fine print.

My advice is simple. Pass the bill, fund it properly, train them well, keep it out of politics, and watch whether the officers are answerable to the law or to one man’s mood. If they are, Ekiti may have just taught the country something. If not, we’ll be back here with another article titled “Gist: state police forgets the state.”