In 2015, the Nigerian Police Force announced a new era of intelligence-led policing, with the installation of a groundbreaking tracking device. The device wasn’t just another tool; it was the embodiment of a strategy designed to disrupt criminal networks, particularly the scourge of kidnapping that has plagued the nation. Its mission was to intercept the darkest plots before they could come to fruition.
The Intelligence Response Team (IRT), an elite unit within the police force, became the operational arm of this technological marvel. Armed with real-time data from the tracking system, the IRT was empowered to move swiftly and decisively.
The device played a pivotal role in high-profile cases that once gripped the nation in fear. One such case was the abduction of Chief Olu Falae, a former Secretary to the Government of the Federation, who was kidnapped by herdsmen on his 77th birthday. The tracking platform proved its worth by guiding the police to the kidnappers, who were apprehended with the ransom money still in their possession.
“Immediately the kidnappers removed the SIM card used to negotiate, we knew where they were and intercepted them at the last bridge to Minna,” recalled a senior police officer who was instrumental in the operation, in a conversation with Vanguard.
The kidnappers were caught with “the ransom money they collected still in the boot,” he added.
The justice system swiftly followed, sentencing the criminals to life imprisonment. However, the battle against crime had taken a decisive turn.
Technology, no matter how advanced, is only as good as the people who wield it. And here, the story takes a darker turn. According to the senior police officer, what was meant to be a shield against criminals became a tool for political espionage. The tracking system, once the pride of the police force, was slowly corrupted from within.
As the years passed, the leadership of the Nigerian Police Force changed hands. Successive Inspectors General, lacking the technical acumen of their predecessor, began to lose sight of the system’s true purpose. The platform, once a beacon of hope, was now at the mercy of those who saw it as an opportunity to further their own agendas.
“The priority of successive IGPs was quite different,” lamented the retired senior officer. “Solomon Arase set up the platform when he was the IGP. It was a technical platform to track calls.”
The system, which was initially housed within the IGP’s office and accessible only to a select few, soon fell into the wrong hands.
“People in the National Assembly and Villa got hold of the platform and used it to track their enemies and mistresses,” he revealed.
The division between the technical and operational units, crucial to maintaining the system’s integrity, was blurred. The IRT, once a separate entity, was merged with the technical platform, allowing for greater control by a single individual—control that was soon compromised, the retired senior officer narrated.
A System in Decline
With the passage of time, the once-formidable tracking system began to falter. Its decline was not due to any inherent flaw in the technology but rather a lack of maintenance and foresight. The retired officer noted with regret that the platform was never upgraded as required.
“They had money to pay for the accumulated subscription but they refused to pay,” he explained. Subscriptions went unpaid, and the service provider, after a grace period, withdrew its support. “When you leave such a system for more than one year, it requires recalibration,” the officer added.
The consequences were severe. As the system’s effectiveness waned, kidnappers and criminals regained their footing. The very tool that had once struck fear into their hearts was now nothing more than a relic of a bygone era. The police, once armed with real-time data, were left to rely on traditional methods that were no match for the evolving tactics of criminal networks.
“The tracker, particularly, became non-functional due to non-subscription as well as failure to engage the relevant company to carry out required system upgrades,” the officer explained. “Due to the failure to pay subscription fees for about three years, and after a grace period had expired, the company overseeing its maintenance and upgrade decided to withdraw its services. This made it difficult to track bandits, kidnappers, and other forms of violent crimes.”
A Glimmer of Revival
Yet, all is not lost. Recently, the current Inspector-General of Police, Kayode Egbetokun, has made efforts to breathe new life into the defunct system. The tracking device has been reactivated, offering a glimmer of hope that the tide may once again turn in favor of law enforcement. But the challenges remain immense.
Despite the reactivation, in addition to the tracking devices of the Department of State Security service and Office of the National Security Adviser, the impact has been limited. Kidnappers continue to operate with impunity in many regions, sharing their activities online and flaunting the ransom they received on social media.
In addition to the tracker, Nigeria uses NIGCOMSAT, a satellite that tracks location and generates data. However, a satellite engineer at the NIGCOMSAT LTD, who didn’t want his name mentioned, had told Vanguard that the onus of taking action on whatever the communications satellite reveals, in terms of crimes, is squarely at the doorsteps of the security agencies, adding that, the door of the company has always been open to them for valuable information that aid their operations.
