By Okechukwu Nwanguma
The decision by the Nigeria Police Force to disband the notorious Tiger Base in Imo State only to replace it with a new tactical unit operating from the same facility, under the same leadership, and reportedly with many of the same personnel, raises serious questions about the sincerity, judgment, and credibility of ongoing police reform efforts in Nigeria.
How could the police leadership commit this level of blunder?
For years, Tiger Base became synonymous with allegations of torture, extortion, enforced disappearances, arbitrary detention, extrajudicial killings, and abuse of power. Families, victims, lawyers, journalists, and civil society groups repeatedly raised concerns over the activities of the unit. Fear of Tiger Base spread far beyond Imo State. The unit developed a public reputation not as a symbol of security and justice, but as a place of dread and impunity.
Ordinarily, any institution genuinely interested in reform would understand that dismantling such a structure requires far more than changing its name and redesigning its logo or uniform. Real reform demands accountability, institutional introspection, transparency, and a decisive break from the culture and personnel associated with abuse.
Instead, what Nigerians witnessed was the unveiling of the so-called Violent Crime Response Unit (VCRU) in the same building, with the same commander, and reportedly many of the same officers. This is not reform. It is recycling.
The optics alone are damaging enough. But the implications are even worse.
The retention of ACP Oladimeji (“Ola”) as head of the new unit despite the avalanche of allegations linked to Tiger Base sends a troubling message that the institution either does not appreciate the gravity of the accusations against the former unit or simply does not care. It reinforces the long-standing perception that officers accused of serious misconduct are protected rather than investigated.
This is precisely the mistake the authorities made after the #EndSARS protests. Following nationwide outrage against the now-defunct SARS, Nigerians demanded accountability, justice for victims, psychological evaluation and vetting of officers, and institutional reforms to address the entrenched culture of abuse within tactical policing. Instead, the police hurriedly introduced SWAT, and many Nigerians soon discovered that former SARS operatives had merely been redistributed into new formations.
That failure damaged public trust profoundly.
Sadly, the launch of the VCRU in Imo appears to repeat the same error – perhaps even more brazenly.
One would have expected that before inaugurating a new tactical unit, there would be an independent audit of the former Tiger Base operations, investigation of complaints against officers, publication of findings, and prosecution of those found culpable of abuses. There should also have been a transparent process for selecting new personnel untainted by allegations of misconduct.
None of these appear to have happened. Instead, the public is asked to believe that a deeply discredited structure has suddenly transformed simply because its name has changed.
Even more worrying is the persistent allegation of political interference in policing operations in Imo State. The visible role played by the Chief Security Officer to the Governor at the inauguration of the VCRU further deepens concerns that tactical policing in the state remains entangled with political interests and influence. Policing cannot be professional where operational structures are perceived as extensions of political power.
When security units become instruments of political control rather than institutions governed by law, accountability disappears and abuse thrives.
Equally unconvincing is the composition of the so-called Civilian Oversight Committee announced alongside the new unit. Rather than reflecting genuine independence and broad-based civic oversight, the membership reportedly reads more like an extension of official structures and establishment interests. The conspicuous absence of credible independent civil society voices and the exclusion of women further weaken its legitimacy and raise questions about whether the committee is intended to provide real accountability or merely serve as a public relations shield for a deeply controversial initiative.
Effective oversight must be independent, diverse, transparent, and trusted by the public – not constructed to rubber-stamp institutional decisions.
The tragedy is that this avoidable error undermines whatever legitimate objectives the police leadership may have intended. A tactical unit designed to combat violent crime can only succeed where there is public trust, legitimacy, and cooperation from citizens. Fear and distrust cannot produce effective policing.
The police leadership must understand that Nigerians are no longer persuaded by cosmetic reforms. Citizens have become more conscious of their rights and more attentive to institutional deception disguised as reform.
Rebranding without accountability is not reform.
Recycling abusive personnel without scrutiny is not reform.
Creating oversight structures without independence or credibility is not reform.
Changing signboards while preserving structures of impunity is not reform.
If the Nigeria Police Force is serious about restoring public confidence, it must move beyond symbolic gestures and embrace genuine institutional transformation rooted in accountability, professionalism, transparency, respect for human rights, and independence from political manipulation.
Anything short of that will remain exactly what many Nigerians already fear this latest initiative to be: old wine in a new bottle.







