When men stormed into a Kaduna neighbourhood last week and dragged away @Sarki_sultan, a 27-year-old activist known for his unflinching critiques of government policies, the silence that followed was deafening. His family has not heard from him since. His phone remains off. Authorities deny any knowledge. And yet, Nigerians know this story too well.
Sultan is not the first young activist to vanish in such circumstances and, unless something changes, he will not be the last. His disappearance is part of a growing pattern of repression in Africa’s largest democracy, where the very voices demanding accountability and justice are treated as threats to national security.
Nigeria is the beating heart of Africa’s youth. More than 60% of its 220 million people are under 25 (World Bank, 2023). This generation is not only Nigeria’s future it is its present. They are the workers, innovators, and activists who powered movements like #EndSARS, the 2020 uprising against police brutality that captured global headlines.
But five years later, many of those same youth are still paying the price. Hundreds of protesters remain scarred by violence, and several organisers face ongoing harassment. The government has promised reforms, yet the crackdown on dissent has only deepened.
Sultan’s case echoes others. Omoyele Sowore, a journalist and pro-democracy campaigner, was detained multiple times on charges critics call politically motivated. Daniel Ojukwu, a reporter, disappeared for days in 2024 before his family discovered he was being held under the Cybercrime Act. Dozens of young organisers from 2024–2025 protests were charged with treason, a punishment wildly disproportionate to their alleged “crime” of calling for accountability.
International watchdogs have taken note. Amnesty International warns of “a dangerous erosion of civic freedoms in Nigeria.” Human Rights Watch calls the trend “a systematic attempt to silence the country’s most critical voices.”
It is tempting for the world to dismiss these as “domestic issues.” But Nigeria is no ordinary country. It is Africa’s largest democracy, its biggest economy, and its most populous nation. When activists are silenced here, the ripple effects travel far beyond Abuja or Lagos.
Nigeria sets precedents. If young voices can be criminalised in Nigeria, other governments in the region will take notes. If enforced disappearances go unanswered, authoritarian tendencies elsewhere gain oxygen.
At its core, this is not just about politics it is about humanity. Sultan, like so many others, is someone’s son, someone’s brother, someone’s friend. His disappearance is a wound that cuts through communities already burdened by insecurity, poverty, and inequality.
Globally, silence in the face of such repression makes the international community complicit. The United Nations has repeatedly called civic participation a cornerstone of sustainable development. Yet, in Nigeria, the very demographic that embodies the Sustainable Development Goals’ promise its youth is being handcuffed, kidnapped, and silenced.
The steps are clear and urgent:
The true test of a democracy is not in how it treats its majority, but in how it treats those who dissent. Right now, Nigeria is failing that test. Sultan’s disappearance is a warning not just for Nigerians, but for the world.
If Africa’s largest democracy cannot protect the voices of its youth, then what hope is there for civic freedoms across the continent?
The demand is simple, and it is urgent: Bring back Sultan. Protect Nigeria’s young voices. Defend democracy, before silence becomes our only language.
