NAOWA and the Power of Collective Purpose – Abdul Mahmud

By Abdul Mahmud

On Thursday 27 November 2025, I found myself driving through the gates of Mambilla Barracks in Abuja. It was my first time inside a military facility since my arrest and brief detention at the Military Barracks in Ilese Ijebu in 1996, during the long season of repression under General Sani Abacha. The memories of those years have never truly faded. Stepping into the barracks again felt like walking into a place that once echoed with fear but now held a gentler meaning. I had come not as a detainee but as a guest of my friend and colleague, the immediate past President of NAOWA and current President of the Defence and Police Officers Wives Association, Mrs Mernan Oluyede, to witness the official launch of the NAOWA Multi-purpose Cooperative Society. It was an honour that carried its own quiet symbolism.

The event was a reminder of the silent architecture that holds the Nigerian Armed Forces together. Soldiers defend the nation, but their families defend the home front. Wives of officers carry burdens that do not make the news. They are guardians of households constantly touched by absence. They nurse fears that are rarely spoken aloud. They form communities that allow resilience to grow even when life is marked by long nights and unpredictable deployments. A cooperative society formed by these women is therefore not a ceremonial endeavour. It is a structure of survival and self-reliance, built on shared experiences and collective strengths.

Cooperative societies hold an important place in the story of human ingenuity. They allow people to combine resources, share risks and pursue prosperity in ways that protect the vulnerable. They help communities build stability through credit schemes, savings groups and investment initiatives. For women whose lives are tied to the uncertainty of military service, cooperatives provide the stability that the nature of their husbands’ work often denies them. A cooperative is not simply a financial platform. It is a support system. It is the meeting point between empowerment and duty.

The NAOWA Multi-purpose Cooperative Society fits into this tradition. It was conceptualised by and seen through to life by Mrs Mernan Oluyede during her tenure as the President of NAOWA. Her idea was simple in expression but profound in vision: to create a system that improves the material and social well-being of army officers’ wives. What made the launch remarkable was not only that her vision took form but that her successor, Mrs Safiyya Shaibu, wife of the Chief of Army Staff, gave glowing recognition of her, while embracing the project wholeheartedly. She did so in a manner that honoured continuity at a time when leadership changes often disrupt long-term plans. In doing this, she affirmed the principle that progress is a relay, not a competition. It is a truth often forgotten in public life where new leaders frequently discard the work of their predecessors. Her willingness to nurture what she inherited speaks to the deeper culture of duty and devotion that NAOWA tries to promote.

When leadership becomes a partnership rather than a performance, the community becomes stronger. The cooperative society stands as a testament to the resilience of military families. It also invites us to reflect on the symbolism embedded in the NAOWA anthem which speaks of love that binds all that cannot be broken. Love is not an abstract sentiment in the lives of these women. It is expressed in their perseverance. It is expressed in their decision to build a structure that will outlive the typical cycle of leadership. It is expressed in their insistence that the welfare of their members deserves a purpose backed by action.

The work of NAOWA also connects with a much older tradition of recognising sacrifice. War poets have long reminded the world that the cost of conflict does not end when the guns fall silent. The English poet, Wilfred Owen, wrote not of glory but of the human bonds strained by war, the pain of waiting and the shared duty of those who remain behind. His work helps us understand that the burdens borne by families are part of the narrative of national service.

A cooperative society for army officers’ wives becomes a symbolic correction to the neglect that military families often face. It allows us to honour their sacrifices in practical terms.
The launch in Abuja captured this sense of purpose. The hall was filled with women who understood what it means to carry responsibilities that are both emotional and economic. Their husbands risk everything so that the country may remain safe. They keep households anchored through long periods of uncertainty. They manage finances, raise children, settle disputes, comfort neighbours and hold entire communities together. For many of them, the cooperative is not an accessory to their lives. It is protection against vulnerabilities that appear every time a deployment order arrives.

There was an atmosphere of pride at the event. Not the loud kind, but one expressed in warm greetings, firm handshakes and the glow of faces that understood what the day meant. There was a sense that something had been built which would stand. Something that belongs to every woman in the room. Something that will strengthen the social foundation of the military community. As I sat there, I thought about how far the country has come since the years when fear governed our public spaces. The launch of a cooperative inside a military barracks, as I noted in my message of goodwill, may seem like a small thing, but it speaks to a larger truth about recovery and the quiet rewriting of our national story. In many ways, the cooperative society is a reminder of what can happen when people choose cooperation over competition. It is a reminder that progress in any community depends on the small decisions to support one another. It is a reminder that leadership can be an act of continuity rather than disruption. It is also a reminder that the home front is a frontline in its own way and that those who protect it deserve support that matches their devotion.

As I drove out of the Mambilla Barracks, the shadows of 1996 receded a little more. The Nigeria of today is still marked by challenges, but that afternoon offered a glimpse of something hopeful. If the love that binds can be nurtured in one corner of our military community, then there is space for cooperation and healing across the rest of the country. The NAOWA Multi-purpose Cooperative Society stands as a quiet but powerful declaration of possibility. It is a promise that those who protect Nigeria will not be left to struggle alone. It is a celebration of continuity, devotion and shared progress. Above all, it is a testament to the women whose strength makes the work of their husbands possible. Their service may not carry uniforms or ranks, but it carries the weight of national survival. They deserve every structure that helps them stand tall.

Kudos to Mrs Mernan Oluyede and Mrs Safiyya Shaibu.