By Ibn Usman Abubakar Siddiq
“if bandits fit enter army camp, shey na nysc camp dem no go enter??
How will bandit enter NYSC camp without call up letter…”
A few days ago, while surfing the Internet, I stumbled upon the above cheeky jokes on X, formally Twitter, between two individual which left me without choice but laughter, despite the weight of subtle seriousness beneath it.
As hilarious as they sounded, it’s hard for any one to ignore the truth behind them. However, like many Nigerians who most times tend to be hedonistic with issues, no matter their importance, I laughed and moved on. But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that beneath the humour was a serious conversation about the growing insecurity confronting young and aspiring graduates in Nigeria.
For decades, the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) scheme has been regarded as one of Nigeria’s most important nation-building programmes. Established in 1973, its objective was simple: bring together young graduates from different ethnic, religious, and cultural backgrounds and give them an opportunity to serve outside their states of origin. The idea was to promote national unity and strengthen understanding among Nigerians.
For generations of graduates, receiving a call-up letter was often accompanied by excitement, curiosity, and sometimes anxiety about adapting to a new environment. The biggest concerns usually revolved around where one would be posted, the conditions at the orientation camp, or how to cope with an unfamiliar language and culture.
Today, however, a different concern has taken centre stage.
Security.
In recent years, insecurity has gradually transformed the NYSC experience. For many prospective corps members and their families, the fear of kidnapping, banditry, violent attacks, and unsafe roads now overshadows the excitement that once came with national service.
Lately, I have found myself having conversations with friends, recent graduates, and prospective corps members who are increasingly asking a question that would have been almost unthinkable a few years ago: Is the exercise still worth it?
For many of them, the concern is no longer about where they will be posted or how they will adjust to a new environment. The concern is whether they will be safe or if the scheme is worth the risk.
These fears are not unfounded.
Record has it that, one of the most disturbing incidents occurred in August 2023 when eight prospective corps members travelling to Sokoto State for orientation camp were abducted along the Funtua-Gusau road in Zamfara State. What should have been the beginning of a memorable service year turned into a traumatic experience. Some of the victims spent months in captivity, while the last among them regained freedom nearly a year later.
The incident sent shockwaves across the country and forced many Nigerians to confront a painful reality: young graduates answering the call to national service were increasingly becoming vulnerable targets.
The following year brought another worrying development. In July 2024, five corps members were reportedly abducted in Ondo State while travelling within the state. Though they eventually regained their freedom, the incident further heightened concerns about the safety of corps members, particularly during interstate journeys.
More recently was the case involving one Musa Usman Abba that generated widespread outrage and renewed conversations about the safety of young Nigerians travelling across the country. While NYSC later clarified that he was no longer a serving corps member at the time of the incident, the case resonated with many people because it reflected fears that have become increasingly associated with travelling for service and other official assignments.
Beyond these headline-grabbing incidents are countless stories that rarely make national news. There are corps members posted to remote communities affected by banditry, communal clashes, and other security threats. There are parents who spend sleepless nights worrying about children serving hundreds of kilometres away from home. There are graduates who now consider security reports before deciding whether to travel to camp.
The growing anxiety surrounding national service has inevitably raised difficult questions about the future of the scheme.
Some of the conversations I have had recently reveal just how much public sentiment is changing.
A friend preparing for service recently asked me a question I struggled to answer: “If the government cannot guarantee our safety, why should we be compelled to travel across the country in the first place?”
Another prospective corps member wondered whether the original objectives of the scheme still justify the risks involved.
Others have taken the debate even further.
Why, they ask, must graduates still be posted to distant states at a time when insecurity continues to affect major highways and communities? Why not allow them to serve closer to home?
In as much as even the security at home is not guaranteed it’s still comforting to be closer than to be far away.
Some have even suggested that instead of spending billions of naira annually on camp operations, administration, logistics, and allowances, the government could channel some of those resources into startup grants, vocational training, or entrepreneurship support for young graduates.
Whether one agrees with these suggestions or not, the fact that they are being raised at all says something important. It suggests that insecurity is gradually eroding public confidence in one of Nigeria’s most enduring institutions.
Supporters of the NYSC scheme would understandably argue that national integration cannot be measured in monetary terms. They would point to the friendships, opportunities, and cultural experiences that emerge when young Nigerians live and work outside their comfort zones. Many former corps members, myself included, can testify to the value of interacting with people from different backgrounds.
Yet the reality remains that the programme now operates in a security environment vastly different from the one in which it was created more than five decades ago.
This reality is reflected in recent data.
In 2025, investigations into kidnappings involving corps members revealed that abductions linked to the scheme had become a recurring concern. While these incidents represent only a fraction of the overall corps population, they have had an outsized impact on public perception because each case reinforces fears that national service may come with risks that previous generations did not face.
The question, therefore, is not whether NYSC remains relevant. The question is whether the scheme has evolved sufficiently to address the security realities confronting young Nigerians today.
National service should not become an exercise carried out under fear.
The ideals upon which the scheme was founded remain noble and relevant. Nigeria still needs platforms that promote national unity and cultural understanding. However, those ideals cannot thrive where safety is uncertain.
If the NYSC is to retain public trust, the security and welfare of corps members must remain a priority. Young graduates should be able to answer the call to serve with enthusiasm, hope, and confidence, not with anxiety about whether they will go safely and return home safely.
Because while national service was designed to unite Nigerians, no young person should have to choose between serving their country and protecting their own life.