It always starts the same way in Nigeria: a gathering of defiant voices, a flash of anger on the streets, a chant that slowly becomes an anthem. From Twitter threads to crowded junctions, from tired hashtags to real bloodshed.
In 2020, it was #EndSARS — a youth-driven revolt against police brutality that mutated into a national outcry for justice and reform.
Five years later, another movement is rattling the gates of power: #FreeNnamdiKanuNow. And while some may dismiss it as the latest agitation from IPOB loyalists, make no mistake — what’s brewing is not just about one man. It’s a déjà vu moment for a nation still struggling to silence the echoes of its own unrest.
This is not coincidence. It is a cycle.
The Nigerian state has once again found itself face-to-face with the ghosts it never buried.
In comparing these two seismic moments, we uncover the country’s deep political fault lines, and why, no matter how hard it tries, Nigeria cannot run from its people.
1. The Spark: From Police Killings To Political Prisoners
#EndSARS began with grainy videos of young Nigerians being harassed, extorted, and killed by the now-defunct Special Anti-Robbery Squad.
It wasn’t new — it was just undeniable. And in a digital age, the truth travels fast. What started as “stop killing us” became “we can’t take this anymore.”
#FreeNnamdiKanuNow, on the other hand, is rooted in the detention of a single man — Nnamdi Kanu, leader of the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB).
But if you think this protest is just about freeing Kanu, you’ve missed the point.
This is about the decades-long suppression of eastern political expression. It is about selective justice. This is about the use of courts, cages, and propaganda to crush dissent.
In both cases, a spark became a symbol — and a symbol became a storm.
2. Youth at the Helm: Nigeria’s Ticking Time Bomb
At the heart of both protests lies the same driving force: Nigeria’s youth. Angry. Unemployed. Disillusioned. Digitally empowered, but systemically disempowered.
#EndSARS was their wake-up call. For the first time, millions of young Nigerians believed they could force the government to listen. That belief is still alive — and it’s now flowing into the #FreeNnamdiKanuNow movement.
Whether in Lagos, Enugu, or Abuja, it’s the same faces. New slogans, old anger. Same enemy: silence from the state.
3. Brutality As A Response: Tear Gas, Arrests, And Fear Tactics
What did the government learn from #EndSARS? Apparently, not much.
In both protests, the state’s first instinct was force — not dialogue. 2020, it was Lekki Toll Gate, where peaceful protesters were gunned down under the cover of darkness.
In 2025, it’s tear gas in Abuja, where peaceful demonstrators demanding Nnamdi Kanu’s release were dispersed, threatened, and branded as security threats.
The playbook is the same: label the protests as “destabilising,” claim they’re “hijacked by hoodlums,” deploy security operatives, and deny all wrongdoing. But here’s the problem — people remember. And they’re not scared like they used to be.
4. The Hashtag Weapon: Digital Warfare And Global Eyes
#EndSARS became a global movement because of how efficiently it spread online. Celebrities tweeted. Diaspora rallied. News outlets paid attention. The world couldn’t look away.
#FreeNnamdiKanuNow is following that same digital script. Already, activists like Omoyele Sowore are amplifying the cause. Videos from Unity Fountain and DSS headquarters are making the rounds. The hashtag is climbing again.
For the Nigerian government, this is a PR nightmare. For the people, it’s a tool of liberation. Online activism is the new political battleground — and it’s one the state can’t fully control.
5. The Government’s Dilemma: Who’s Really The Threat?
During End SARS, the government painted protesters as naïve, misled, or worse — criminals.
But it failed to answer a simple question: if the demands were about justice and safety, why treat them as enemies?
Today, the state is doing the same with #FreeNnamdiKanuNow. By conflating peaceful protesters with IPOB militants, it muddies the waters and justifies suppression.
But again, it ignores the real issue: Why is Nnamdi Kanu still in custody despite multiple court rulings ordering his release? Why does the government choose selective compliance?
When the law becomes optional, protests become inevitable.
6. A Nation Divided — Or United In Pain?
Here’s the twist most don’t expect: #EndSARS and #FreeNnamdiKanuNow are not opposites.
They are twins in different clothes. Yes, one is pan-Nigerian and the other rooted in southeastern agitation. But underneath both is the same cry — we’re tired of being ignored.
If the government paid attention, it would hear the similarities:
* The demand for justice.
* The rejection of abuse.
* The refusal to stay silent.
This isn’t about tribe. It’s about trauma.
Will History Repeat — Or Reignite?
Nigeria is sitting on a fault line. Again.
Back in 2020, after the killings at Lekki, the government promised reform.
Commissions were formed. Reports were filed. Then everything was swept under the rug.
Now, in 2025, the rug is shaking again.
If the state treats #FreeNnamdiKanuNow as just an “IPOB nuisance,” it will miss the bigger picture — that Nigerians, across all regions, have grown impatient with impunity. And once that fuse is lit, it doesn’t matter what name the protest carries.
Also Read: 5 Things To Know About #EndSARS As Nigeria Marks Its Memorial Today
It might be Kanu today. It might be fuel prices tomorrow. But the fire is already burning.
The Hashtags May Change, But The Message Stays The Same
End SARS was not just a protest — it was a scream into the void. A national moment of clarity. A wound that never healed.
#FreeNnamdiKanuNow is not just about a man — it’s about a nation that has refused to learn. A government that doesn’t listen. A people who refuse to give up.
These are not isolated movements. They are chapters of the same story. And unless Nigeria finally listens — truly listens — we’re bound to watch the next protest unfold before our very eyes.
Only next time, it may not be tear gas and tweets.
It may be something worse.
