Sunday Mail – On Whom Does the Responsibility Lie to Fix Local Government Roads?

On whom does the responsibility lie to fix local government roads?

Dear Editor,

The current state governance of this nation by some state governors across Nigeria is truly not encouraging, as the rate of crime keeps increasing on a daily basis because of the failure of these governors to cater for the poor masses.

It is true that the Federation Account Allocation Committee (FAAC) distributes monthly funds to all the state governors in Nigeria, and citizens must ask them questions on how they spend the public funds. The presidency should publish all monthly allocations and other intervention funds received by state governors in all major Nigerian newspapers to ensure transparency.

Many local government areas in Nigeria lack good roads and street lights, including other infrastructures. The road at Elewuro Onireke Alapata that falls within the jurisdiction of Lagelu local government area in Ibadan, Oyo State is very bad and needs to be rehabilitated with public funds.

Many Nigerians are unhappy with how several state governors are running their states, as there is a lack of development in many local governments despite monthly allocations being sent from the Federation Account.

There is a need to tell our state governors in Nigeria to go back to the local government areas in their various states and rehabilitate the damaged roads with public funds. We are not asking our state governors to spend their salaries to construct the street roads that fall within the various local government areas in Nigeria.

All we are saying is to use the public funds to fix all the damaged roads for Nigerian citizens. The local government roads of where I am currently living in Ibadan are very bad. It is the duty of the state government to fix local government roads for its citizens with public funds.

The presidency must summon all the state governors in Nigeria, including my governor to a meeting in Abuja and question them regarding their failure to rehabilitate local government roads with public funds. Nigerians need good roads at their various local government areas. Jimoh Mumin writes from Ibadan, Oyo State via jimohmumin@yahoo.com

Why Emir Sanusi II deserves separate academic class at Kano Varsity

Dear Editor,

When I read in a newspaper that the current Emir of Kano, Muhammadu Sanusi II, had been admitted to study Law at Northwest University, Kano, I initially assumed that he would be offered special arrangements, perhaps private tutorials or online classes, given his status and responsibilities.

Surprisingly, when lectures commenced, I saw him seated comfortably in a regular classroom alongside young men and women, receiving lectures like every other student. While this is not taboo in an academic setting, it would understandably feel awkward to many, especially students who are expected to learn shoulder-to-shoulder with an Emir.

Some of these students may be young enough to be his children, or even grandchildren, and perhaps older than some of the lecturers themselves. Considering his stature as a former Governor of the Central Bank of Nigeria, a reigning Emir, a seasoned academic, and a PhD holder, his presence alone is naturally intimidating.

This level of intimidation, whether intentional or not, has the potential to affect the academic atmosphere negatively. Students and even lecturers may feel constrained, overly cautious, or uncomfortable expressing themselves freely in discussions, debates, or even casual academic interactions.

An environment that should encourage openness, questioning, and intellectual freedom may instead become rigid and unsettling. Moreover, many students may find the learning experience boring or uncomfortable, not because of the Emir himself, but because of the psychological weight his presence carries.

Muhammadu Sanusi II is not merely a fellow student; he is simultaneously a father figure, a traditional ruler, a respected scholar, and a prominent public figure. These roles cannot simply be set aside within a classroom. Therefore, to preserve a free, relaxed, and productive academic environment, especially for his classmates, it would be more appropriate for the Emir to be taught separately.

Special classes or tailored academic arrangements would ensure that learning remains effective for all parties involved. His distinguished titles and status, though admirable, are likely to be more distracting than beneficial in a conventional classroom setting, as there are many academic and social interactions that students and lecturers may feel unable to engage in freely in his presence.

Such an arrangement would not diminish the Emir’s commitment to education; rather, it would acknowledge both his unique position and the need to protect the integrity and comfort of the academic environment. Ukasha Rabiu Magama writes from Magama, Toro, Bauchi State

Illicit drugs, addiction challenge

Dear Editor,

Nigeria’s fight against illicit drugs has intensified in ways that are impossible to ignore. Across the country, seizures have increased, trafficking routes have been disrupted, and criminal networks have come under sustained pressure.

The National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA) has been at the centre of this effort, expanding its operational reach and reinforcing the message that drug trafficking carries real consequences. Yet for all this progress, many Nigerians still encounter drugs in their everyday environments.

Familiar faces linger in the same spots, open drug scenes re-emerge, and drug-related petty crime continues to unsettle neighbourhoods. This reality is often misinterpreted as enforcement weakness, but a closer look reveals a different truth.

The persistence of drugs on the streets is driven less by the failure to stop supply and more by the continued presence of people who are already dependent on drugs and have nowhere else to go. Decades of research in criminology and public health show that once dependence takes hold, demand becomes stubbornly resistant to pressure.

Prices can rise, dealers can be arrested, and routes can shift, but the dependent user keeps searching. This is why many low-level drug offenders appear repeatedly in arrest records. Modern drug policy increasingly recognises drug dependence as a chronic health condition influenced by social and economic realities.

Unemployment, trauma, displacement, untreated mental health conditions, and social exclusion all raise the risk of problematic drug use. NDLEA’s evolving approach already reflects this understanding. Beyond seizures and arrests, the agency has increasingly emphasised counselling, treatment referrals, and rehabilitation as part of its broader mandate.

This integrated thinking aligns with global best practice. However, the scale of drug dependence far outstrips the current capacity of rehabilitation facilities. Many communities lack functional centres altogether, while others rely on informal or overstretched options that cannot support sustained recovery.

Effective rehabilitation does more than detoxify; it restores dignity, rebuilds skills, and reconnects individuals to families and productive lives. Where recovery systems are strong, drug markets shrink naturally because demand fades. Christiana Daniel writes from Jalingo, Taraba State

Another call for stiff penalties for drug traffickers

Dear Editor,

A few days ago, while browsing online, I came across a troubling report about a 37-year-old man who was once arrested for the same drugrelated offence and was punished some years earlier.

The story was unsettling, not just because of the crime itself, but because it highlighted a deeper problem: how lightly some drug offences are treated, even after the damage they cause has become painfully clear. Stories like this revive a long-standing public conversation about whether punishments for drug trafficking truly match the gravity of the harm involved.

Across the country, many concerned citizens have continued to argue that weak sentences fail to discourage offenders, especially when drug abuse and trafficking are already tearing families apart, destroying young lives, and burdening communities with lasting health and social problems.

There is a widely held belief that punishment should not only be corrective but also preventive. When penalties are mild and easily bypassed with money, they send the wrong message that crime can be a calculated risk rather than a serious moral and legal violation. Young people watching from the sidelines may conclude that the rewards outweigh the consequences, and that is a dangerous lesson for any society.

Consider the effort involved in bringing a drug offender to justice. Law enforcement officers often risk their lives tracking suspects, gathering evidence, and seeing cases through to court. Yet, after all that sacrifice, a conviction may result in a short prison term with an option of a fine that a well-funded offender can easily pay.

The individual walks free, unchanged, while the officer is left wondering whether the struggle was worth it. In such situations, justice feels incomplete not just to the public, but to those tasked with protecting it. Contrast that with a firm, non-negotiable sentence that reflects the seriousness of the offence.

A lengthy prison term without the option of a fine sends a powerful signal. It tells potential offenders that drug trafficking is not a business risk but a life-altering mistake. It also reassures honest citizens and dedicated NDLEA officers that the law stands firmly on the side of public safety.

The case is cited because it follows a familiar pattern. After an earlier arrest involving a large quantity of hard drugs concealed for export, he was convicted and paid a fine. Rather than abandon the trade, he reportedly returned to it, adopting new methods and deeper secrecy.

That return to crime suggests that the earlier punishment failed to reform or deter him. One can only imagine the mindset of those around such offenders friends, partners, or associates who may assume that arrest is merely a temporary inconvenience, easily resolved with money.

If consequences were truly severe and unavoidable, that confidence would vanish, and with it, much of the temptation to persist in the trade. Ultimately, this is not about vengeance; it is about protection, responsibility, and the value we place on human life. Drug trafficking fuels addiction, violence, broken homes, and lost futures. If the law treats it casually, society pays the price repeatedly.

Stronger, more consistent punishments may not solve the problem overnight, but they could mark a decisive step toward discouraging repeat offences and safeguarding the next generation from a path that leads only to ruin. Aernan Lubem writes from Makurdi, Benue State.