If you woke up tomorrow and discovered that your neighbour, your bus driver, your tailor, your mechanic, your pastor, and even that man who argues too loudly at the suya spot now legally owned guns…

What would Nigeria look like?

Picture this.

A Lagos traffic jam, sun blazing, horns blaring, danfo conductor screaming “O wa o, enter with your change!”

A small scratch happens—just a side mirror brushing another side mirror. Normally this would escalate into shouting, chest-beating and the usual “Do you know who I am?” routine.

But now imagine both drivers are licensed gun owners.

Suddenly the argument isn’t just two hot-headed men trading insults.

It has the potential to become a national tragedy trending on X by noon and generating hashtags like:

#MirrorGate #DanfoShootout #ThisCountryNeverCeasesToAmazeUs

This is the nightmare scenario lurking underneath Gbadebo Rhodes-Vivour’s controversial suggestion that if the government cannot protect Nigerians, it should consider licensing firearms.

The idea sounds bold. It sounds empowering. It sounds like the kind of thing that makes frustrated citizens say, “At last, somebody said it!”

But behind that adrenaline rush lies a set of wild, unpredictable, and very Nigerian dangers—the kind nobody talks about.

Let’s dive into the five most explosive risks that could erupt if Nigeria suddenly became a gun-licensed nation.

1. Every Little Argument Could Become A Shootout Waiting To Happen

Nigeria is a country where people have started fights because:

* someone stepped on white sneakers,

* someone didn’t greet properly,

* someone looked “too proud,”

* or the bus conductor didn’t have ₦50 change.

Now imagine all this with guns in the mix.

Disagreements that normally end with insults could escalate into lethal drama.

A mistakenly splashed muddy water could turn into a gun-drawing contest.

One wrong word at a bar could become the sequel to an action film nobody asked for.

Nigeria doesn’t lack passion—adding firearms to that passion is like adding petrol to jollof rice.

It will not end well.

2. Hot Temper + Hardship = A Dangerous Combination

We are in a country where:

* electricity disappears without warning,

* fuel queues appear like uninvited guests,

* salaries vanish into inflation,

* the cost of tomatoes can cause emotional trauma.

When people are under pressure, their tolerance level plummets.

And an overstressed, underpaid, frustrated population being legally armed?

That’s a recipe for more tragedy than empowerment.

The emotional elasticity of the average Nigerian is already stretched thin.

Licensed guns could snap it entirely.

3. Criminals Could Become “Licensed Citizens” Overnight

Let’s be honest: People have found ways to get driver’s licences without passing tests.

People have gotten passports without documentation.

People have gotten land they don’t own.

Now picture that same energy entering the gun-licensing system.

With corruption in the mix, some of the most dangerous individuals could become “legally armed.” Not just armed—government-approved armed.

Suddenly the line between “citizen” and “criminal” becomes blurry.

Very blurry.

4. Police Encounters Could Turn into Wild West Episodes

Imagine a typical Nigerian police checkpoint:

* “Park! Park! Where is your licence?”

* “Oga, what did I do?”

* “Are you questioning me?”

Now add legal firearms.

Instead of de-escalating violence, encounters could become more heated.

Suspicion rises.

Fear rises.

Miscommunication becomes deadly.

Nigeria’s relationship between citizens and law enforcement is already tense.

Throw legally-owned guns into the mix, and we risk turning routine checks into headline-making tragedies.

5. Accidents, Mistakes, And Unintended Consequences

The most dangerous gun isn’t the one in the hands of a criminal—

it’s the one in the hands of someone who:

* has no training,

* no discipline,

* no understanding of firearm safety.

Guns have no undo button.

One accidental trigger pull, one careless moment, one curious child…

and lives could be changed forever.

Also Read: Rhodes-Vivour Suggests Licensed Firearms as Insecurity Escalates

Firearm licensing sounds empowering until the unintended consequences begin to unfold—quietly, tragically, and permanently.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Rhodes-Vivour’s argument comes from desperation — a cry against a failing security system that leaves citizens helpless.

Nigerians are tired. Nigerians are scared. Nigerians want protection.

But the solution is not as simple as “Let Nigerians carry guns.”

Because once a gun leaves its holster, it does not negotiate.

It does not listen.

It does not discriminate.

It simply changes fate.

Nigeria must fix its broken security architecture, not outsource it to individuals navigating a chaotic society.

Because the day every citizen becomes armed is the day the country steps onto a road with no clear return.