As 2027 approaches, Gombe battles new face of political thuggery

With Nigeria’s 2027 elections approaching, Gombe State is confronting a form of political thuggery that increasingly extends beyond the streets and into smartphones. The development has heightened concerns among security officials, political analysts and civil-society voices that traditional political violence could be taking on a new digital form — one capable of turning misinformation, hate speech and online intimidation into real-world conflict, CHIMA AZUBUIKE reports

At about 6am, on a Sunday when Christians were preparing for worship, an alarming message about an alleged bandit invasion of a church in Akko Local Government Area arrived in a WhatsApp group used by residents of a community in Gombe State. It was short, alarming and seemingly urgent.

Members were told that trouble had started somewhere in Pindiga and that they should either prepare for a confrontation to repel the purported attack or stay away from church service.

Within minutes, the message was forwarded to other groups.

There was also another scare alert claiming that supporters of the governing All Progressives Congress were attacking opposition campaign vehicles. Residents were urged to leave the area immediately. Panic spread, even though there was no such attack at the time.

Some recipients asked questions. Others reacted immediately. A few began calling friends and relatives.

Nobody appeared to know who had originally written the messages. Nobody could immediately establish whether the information was true. But that is the nature of the new political battlefield.

A smartphone can now carry a rumour farther and faster than a political campaign vehicle.

A fabricated video can generate anger before anyone checks its authenticity. An anonymous Facebook post can trigger heated arguments between supporters of rival political parties. A WhatsApp message can turn political disagreement into personal hostility.

And, according to the Gombe State Commissioner of Police, CP Umar Ahmed Chuso, the consequences can become much more serious.

“One click can now cause more damage than a bullet and one false post can set a whole community on fire,” Chuso warned.

His words came at the launch of the National Campaign Against Political and Digital Thuggery, organised by the Gombe State Police Command to mark the 2026 International Youth Day.

The campaign, held under the theme, “My Future Is Greater Than Political and Digital Thuggery,” was launched in line with the directive of the Inspector-General of Police, IGP Olatunji Rilwan Disu.

But the police campaign comes against the backdrop of a bigger political question.

As Nigeria approaches the 2027 elections, can the country prevent old-fashioned political thuggery from simply migrating to new technology?

For decades, political violence has depended on young men being mobilised to intimidate opponents, disrupt rallies and enforce the interests of political patrons. In Gombe, the notorious Kalare phenomenon has provided a stark example, with gangs accused of stealing, attacking and destroying property in broad daylight.

Now, the same political battles are increasingly being fought on screens. The weapons have changed, however, the objective, in some cases, has not.

For a young unemployed Nigerian, politics can sometimes offer what the formal economy does not: access, recognition, money and a sense of belonging.

That vulnerability has made young people an important constituency for political mobilisation.

They are needed at rallies and dominate social media. They create campaign content, operate WhatsApp groups, influence their peers and can be persuaded to defend political interests with remarkable intensity.

Political analyst Goje Sati argues that any serious discussion about political thuggery must go beyond blaming young people for their actions and examine the structures that make them vulnerable to mobilisation.

“You cannot solve political thuggery simply by telling young people not to be thugs. You have to ask why a young person is willing to risk his freedom or even his life for a politician. If the immediate reward is money, protection or access, then the real problem is a political economy that has made violence profitable,” Sati said.

That argument raises an uncomfortable question: What happens to the young person after the election?

The politician may secure a party ticket. The politician may win an election. The politician may eventually move into government.

But the young person recruited to fight may remain in the same neighbourhood, left to face the consequences of his actions.

If he is arrested, the politician may not be there.

If he is injured, the campaign may already be over.

If he dies, no political victory can bring him back.

This is the human cost often missing from election-season conversations about political violence.

Old thug, new thug

The traditional political thug was visible.

He could be identified around a rally venue. He might carry a stick, club or other weapon. He could be seen moving with a group.

Digital thuggery, however, is different.

Its operator may be sitting alone in a room. He may not know the people he is attacking. He may never meet the political opponent whose reputation he is trying to destroy.

Yet his post can reach thousands.

Chuso described this transformation as a growing threat to democratic participation.

“Political violence, electoral thuggery, fake news, hate speech, cyber bullying, and other forms of digital manipulation undermine our democratic process, threaten public peace, and expose our youths to needless legal and social consequences,” he said.

The commissioner said the campaign was designed to encourage youths to reject violence, resist manipulation and use digital platforms responsibly.

“Think before posting or reposting any information,” he advised.

The warning is increasingly important because digital political violence does not necessarily remain digital.

A fabricated claim can produce a real-world confrontation. A false allegation against a political candidate can provoke supporters. An inflammatory religious or ethnic message can create fear.

A manipulated video can become accepted as evidence by people who never bother to verify it. The screen may be digital. The consequences are physical.

WhatsApp: New political battlefield

WhatsApp has increasingly become a political battlefield. Perhaps the most difficult part of the problem is that much of the political conversation takes place away from public scrutiny.

WhatsApp groups have become neighbourhood noticeboards, campaign offices, political discussion rooms and information centres.

They are also fertile ground for misinformation.

A message forwarded by a trusted friend can appear more credible than a professionally produced news report. Recipients often do not ask where the information originated or who first posted it.

The phrases, “I was sent this” or “copied,” have increasingly become substitutes for verification.

The danger becomes greater during elections, when political supporters already have strong emotional attachments to their candidates.

When a message appears to confirm that an opponent has done something wrong, supporters may accept it without checking.

This creates what political pundits describe as information bubbles—spaces where people repeatedly encounter views that reinforce what they already believe.

The result is political polarisation. Opponents cease to be fellow citizens with different opinions.

They become enemies. And once political opponents are viewed as enemies, abusive language can quickly become acceptable.

Sati noted that politicians cannot escape responsibility.

“The mistake we often make is to look only at the young person who is carrying out the violence. We should also ask who recruited him, who financed him and who benefits from what he is doing. If the system punishes the foot soldier and leaves the political sponsor untouched, then the cycle will continue,” he said.

That distinction is important.

A police campaign can educate youths.

Law enforcement can arrest offenders.

Courts can prosecute suspects.

But policing alone cannot eliminate a problem that is partly driven by political incentives.

If political actors believe aggressive supporters can help them win elections, there will always be people willing to play that role.

The solution must therefore include political parties and candidates.

They must take responsibility for the behaviour of their supporters. They must discourage violence, even when it is directed against opponents.

And they must stop treating political aggression as evidence of loyalty.

Women caught in crossfire

For women, the digital political battlefield presents another layer of danger.

A woman who enters a political debate can be attacked for more than her position.

Her appearance may become a subject of ridicule. Her family may be dragged into the argument. Her marital status may be questioned. Sexualised insults may replace political debate.

Women’s leader Cynthia Sabo argues that such behaviour can push women away from political participation.

“When a woman speaks in politics and the response is to attack her character, her family or her sexuality instead of engaging her ideas, that is not political debate. It is intimidation. Digital platforms should not become places where women are punished simply because they choose to participate,” she said.

The implications go beyond individual victims.

Women are already underrepresented in many political structures. If online abuse becomes a normal feature of political participation, some women may conclude that the cost of speaking publicly is simply too high.

That would further narrow Nigeria’s political space.

Digital platforms were expected to democratise political participation by allowing citizens to communicate directly with leaders and with one another.

But without adequate safeguards, the same platforms can reproduce the exclusion and intimidation found in traditional political structures.

Where does digital thuggery begin?

However, there is another danger: when does the fight against digital thuggery begin to threaten legitimate political criticism?

In a democracy, criticism is essential. Citizens must be able to question government. Journalists must be able to investigate public officials. Civil society groups must be able to demand accountability. Opposition parties must be able to challenge those in power.

That makes the role of civic-space advocates particularly important.

Umar Ahmed argues that the fight against misinformation must not become a cover for silencing dissent.

“We must be careful not to define every uncomfortable political statement as digital thuggery. Democracy requires disagreement. The issue is whether somebody is expressing an opinion or deliberately spreading false information, threatening people or inciting violence. The state must protect citizens from digital harm without shrinking the civic space,” Ahmed said.

The distinction is fundamental.

Saying a government has failed is not digital thuggery. Criticising a politician is not digital thuggery. Supporting an opposition candidate is not digital thuggery.

But deliberately fabricating information with the intention of provoking violence is another matter.

So is threatening opponents, publishing personal information to expose people to harassment and organising coordinated abuse to intimidate political participants.

The police campaign will therefore require transparency if it is to command public confidence.

Citizens need to know that enforcement will not depend on political affiliation.

One false post, many consequences

The most dangerous aspect of digital misinformation is its ability to travel faster than correction.

A false claim can take five minutes to circulate while a correction may take five days to reach the same audience.

By then, people may already have formed opinions. Some may even have acted on them.

This is why Chuso’s warning that “one false post can set a whole community on fire” deserves attention.

The statement reflects a reality that has become increasingly difficult to ignore: online activity can have offline consequences.

A rumour about an alleged attack can cause residents to panic.A false electoral result can create suspicion and a fabricated statement can provoke supporters.

A fake photograph can make an old incident appear current. And political actors can exploit all these weaknesses.

Sadly, artificial intelligence is making the problem even more difficult. Its emergence adds another layer to an already complicated digital environment.

It is becoming easier to manipulate images, create synthetic audio and produce convincing videos.

The average voter may not always be able to distinguish genuine material from fabricated content. A political candidate could appear to say something he never said.

A public figure’s voice could be imitated; a photograph could be manipulated to create a false impression. This means media literacy is no longer solely a responsibility for journalists.

It is a civic necessity. Citizens must learn to question digital information. They must understand that a photograph is not necessarily proof. A video is not necessarily authentic, avoice note is not necessarily genuine.

And being forwarded by someone they trust does not make information true.

Price of loyalty

The deeper tragedy is that young people are often asked to pay the highest price for political conflicts they did not create.

The politician may have security but the young supporter may not. The politician may have lawyers, the young person may not. The politician may have the resources to relocate, the young person remains in the same community.

This is why the campaign’s focus on the future is significant.

Chuso said political thuggery had “turned our youths into tools of destruction instead of builders of the future.”

That sentence goes to the heart of the problem.

The country needs young people to build businesses, develop technology, work in public institutions, create jobs and participate meaningfully in democratic processes.

Instead, political violence can turn some of them into temporary instruments for settling political scores.

The reward is often immediate. The consequences are long-term.

Politicians must be watched

If the campaign is to have a lasting impact, political actors must become part of the conversation.

Political parties should publicly commit to peaceful campaigns. Candidates should discipline supporters who engage in violence. Party structures should discourage inflammatory messages.

Political sponsors should not provide financial or logistical support for violent mobilisation.

And where violence occurs, accountability should extend beyond the person physically caught at the scene. The same principle should apply online.

A person who creates a fake account to spread political lies should not automatically escape scrutiny simply because he is behind a screen.

Neither should influential political actors who deliberately encourage their supporters to harass opponents.

Digital anonymity should not become political impunity.

The 2027 elections will test Nigeria’s ability to manage politics in a digital age. The campaigns will be fought at rallies and on phones. Political parties will deploy digital teams. Candidates will rely on influencers.

Supporters will operate WhatsApp groups. Videos will travel across communities and artificial intelligence may make fabricated political content increasingly convincing. The question is whether the country’s institutions will be ready.

The police have started the conversation but the conversation cannot end with the police. The Independent National Electoral Commission must continue voter education. The National Orientation Agency must strengthen civic education. Political parties must accept responsibility for their supporters. Civil societies must monitor political conduct. Traditional and religious leaders must promote restraint. Journalists must verify information. Technology users must become more responsible.

And young Nigerians must recognise that political loyalty should never require the destruction of their own future.

Chuso urged participants at the campaign to “leave here with a renewed commitment to promoting peaceful political participation and responsible digital citizenship.”

That commitment will be tested outside the conference hall.

It will be tested when a political opponent is insulted in a WhatsApp group, when a sensational video appears on Facebook, when a friend forwards an unverified allegation.

When a politician’s supporter asks others to attack an opponent online, it will be tested at the rally ground, tested at the polling unit and when election results are announced.

The success of the anti-thuggery campaign should therefore not be measured simply by the number of youths who attend enlightenment programmes.

It should be measured by whether the political environment itself changes.

Can politicians compete without recruiting young people to fight? Can supporters disagree without threatening one another? Can women participate without being subjected to gendered abuse? Can citizens criticise government without being labelled enemies? Can law enforcement punish genuine digital incitement without suppressing legitimate dissent? Can social media become a tool for political education rather than political manipulation?

These are the questions that will determine whether the campaign produces lasting change.

Different political commitment

There are already indications that some political actors recognise the need for a different approach.

The All Progressives Congress governorship candidate in Gombe State, Dr Jamil Gwamna, has pledged to run a clean, issue-based and people-centred campaign ahead of the 2027 governorship election.

In a statement signed by his spokesperson, Ibrahim Sani Shawai, Gwamna said his campaign would focus on addressing the challenges confronting residents rather than engaging in personal attacks or political distractions.

“From the very beginning, I made it clear that I will run an issues-based campaign. I have no interest in politics of insults, personal attacks, or needless distractions,” he said.

The APC candidate said the commitment would remain the guiding principle of his campaign, stressing that “Gombe Above All” would continue to define his political engagement.

He said his campaign would focus on job creation, economic growth, youth and women empowerment, agriculture and livestock development, education, healthcare, infrastructure, entrepreneurship, investment and innovation.

“Our campaign is equally committed to consolidating the remarkable achievements of Governor Muhammadu Inuwa Yahaya while introducing fresh ideas, innovative policies and strategic initiatives that will accelerate growth,” he said.

Gwamna said he would unveil his comprehensive blueprint for the state when the governorship and State House of Assembly campaigns officially commence.

According to him, the blueprint will be anchored on “Continuity, Sustainability and Consolidation,” with emphasis on building on the achievements of the current administration while introducing practical solutions to emerging challenges.

He said the proposed policies would seek to create more opportunities for residents, improve living standards and ensure equitable development across the state.

“We believe that Gombe possesses the human and natural resources to become one of Africa’s leading sub-national economies, through visionary leadership, disciplined governance, and the collective efforts of our people,” he said.

Gwamna consequently called on political actors, supporters and residents to maintain peace and conduct their political activities with respect, saying the interest of the state should take precedence over personal and political differences.

But ultimately, the choice is bigger than any single campaign.

It is a choice between becoming instruments in somebody else’s struggle for power and becoming active participants in shaping the future of the country.

And as 2027 approaches, that choice may determine not only the quality of Nigeria’s elections, but also the kind of democracy the next generation inherits.

Because the young man holding a phone today will still be holding his future long after the politician whose message he forwarded has left office.

The politician’s campaign may last months. The election may last one day but the consequences of violence can last a lifetime.

That is why the message from Gombe’s police campaign deserves to travel beyond the ceremony: “My Future Is Greater Than Political and Digital Thuggery.”

For Nigeria’s youths, it must become more than a slogan.

Provided by SyndiGate Media Inc. (Syndigate.info).