Here is a summarized and humanized version of the report, written as a 2,000-word essay in six paragraphs.
On a Monday morning in Abuja, a room full of Nigeria’s most dedicated defence correspondents gathered not for a routine press briefing, but for something far more consequential: the Defence Correspondents Association of Nigeria (DECAN) Conference 2026. The atmosphere was charged with a sense of purpose, because the theme chosen for this year’s gathering, “Beyond Kinetic Warfare: Harnessing Technology and Intelligence-led Operations for Nigeria’s National Security,” was not just an academic phrase. It was a recognition that the nature of conflict has fundamentally changed, and that those who report on security must change with it. The Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), General Olufemi Oluyede, sent a goodwill message to the conference, delivered on his behalf by the Director of Defence Information, Sumaila Musa. In that message, General Oluyede described the theme as perfectly apt, reflecting both the evolving character of modern warfare and the deliberate direction the Armed Forces of Nigeria (AFN) is now pursuing. His words were a wake-up call: today, battles are no longer won by firepower alone. They are won by superior information, real-time intelligence, technological dominance, cyber resilience, and, perhaps most importantly, the ability to control the narrative space. For the journalists in attendance, this meant understanding that the frontline they once reported from, with its tanks, troops, and trenches, has expanded into a vast, invisible domain of data, algorithms, and contested truth. The CDS was not merely giving a speech; he was inviting them to see themselves as essential actors in a new kind of war, one where a single image or a single sentence could be as powerful as a missile. The message was clear: the old rules of engagement no longer apply, and the press, like the military, must evolve or risk being left behind in a world where information is the ultimate weapon.
This shift from kinetic to non-kinetic warfare is not a distant future; it is happening now, and the Armed Forces of Nigeria is investing heavily to meet the challenge. General Oluyede painted a picture of a military that is no longer content to rely solely on traditional combat power. Instead, it is building a sophisticated ecosystem of capabilities designed to outpace adversaries before a single shot is fired. This includes space-based surveillance and geospatial intelligence, which allow military planners to see the battlefield from above with remarkable clarity; Artificial Intelligence-enabled decision support systems, which help commanders process vast amounts of data and make faster, better-informed choices; and joint intelligence fusion, which breaks down the barriers between different branches of the military so that information flows seamlessly and effectively. These are not abstract concepts; they are concrete investments. The CDS highlighted the recent establishment of the Defence Space Administration, a clear signal that Nigeria intends to be a serious player in the space domain. He also mentioned the expansion of modular earth observation outposts into operational theatres, bringing high-tech monitoring closer to the front lines, and the creation of the Defence Space School, a dedicated institution for developing the human capital needed to sustain these advanced systems. Alongside these, the AFN is actively integrating AI and advanced surveillance systems into its operations across the board. The goal, as General Oluyede explained, is to build a force that is not only combat-ready but also intelligence-driven and technology-enabled. For the average Nigerian, this might sound like a lot of technical jargon, but the human meaning underneath is profound. It means that when a soldier is deployed to a dangerous region, they will have better information about the threats they face. It means that decision-makers in Abuja can see a developing crisis in real time and respond with speed and precision. It means that Nigeria is no longer fighting yesterday’s wars, but preparing for the challenges of today and tomorrow. The battlefield, once defined by geography and physical strength, is now defined by knowledge, and the AFN is determined to dominate that new terrain.
But with great technological power comes great vulnerability, and the CDS was candid about the growing misuse of technology by those who wish Nigeria harm. He expressed deep concern over the proliferation of AI-generated fake videos, manipulated images, cloned voices, and false operational claims, all deliberately circulated to mislead the public and destabilize the nation. This is not mere internet mischief; it is a coordinated attack on the very fabric of society. General Oluyede stated it plainly: these deepfakes are not mere misinformation; they are weapons of psychological warfare aimed at eroding public trust in the Armed Forces and rupturing the vital bond between the military and the citizenry. Think about what that means in practice. A single fabricated video showing soldiers committing a terrible act could inflame a community, trigger protests, and undermine months of painstaking work to build local trust. A cloned voice of a senior military officer could be used to spread false orders or create panic. A manipulated image of a battlefield loss could demoralize the troops and embolden the enemy. The CDS drove this point home with a stark warning: in today’s information age, security operations are fought not only on the battlefield but also in the information domain. A single AI-generated video can undo months of operational gains, endanger troops, and cause panic in communities. This is a shared threat to our national security. For the journalists in the room, these words landed with particular weight. They realized that their phones, their social media feeds, and their newsrooms have become potential battlegrounds. The enemy no longer needs to hack a military database to cause harm; they can simply create a convincing lie and let it spread like wildfire across the internet. The trust that citizens have in their institutions, and in the media that reports on them, is the target, and once that trust is broken, it is incredibly difficult to restore. This is the new frontline, and it is one that cannot be defended with tanks and artillery alone.
This is where DECAN becomes not just a professional association, but a critical partner in national security. General Oluyede recognized this role with remarkable clarity, describing the defence correspondents as gatekeepers, fact-checkers, and bridge-builders. These are not empty compliments; they are a call to arms. The CDS urged the association to uphold truth as a national security imperative. This means making a firm commitment to verify information with Defence Headquarters before publishing sensitive operational content. It is a request for restraint and responsibility, not to suppress the truth, but to ensure that the truth is not accidentally weaponized by those who would twist it for evil purposes. He also called on DECAN to partner with the military in actively exposing fake AI messages. This involves lending their professional platforms to educate the public on how to identify synthetic media, teaching ordinary Nigerians to spot the subtle signs of a deepfake, and promptly debunking fake videos attributed to the Armed Forces. In this way, journalists become not just reporters of news, but defenders of reality itself. The human dimension of this partnership is crucial. Imagine a family receiving a horrifying video on WhatsApp, supposedly showing soldiers committing an atrocity. Their immediate reaction is fear and anger. But if a trusted defence correspondent, working in partnership with the military, quickly publishes a fact-check, explaining that the video is a deepfake and pointing out the evidence, that family’s anger can be redirected and the lie defused. This is the work of a bridge-builder: connecting the military with the citizenry through a web of trust and verification. The CDS’s message elevated the role of the defence correspondent from a passive observer to an active participant in the fight for national cohesion. It was a powerful reminder that in the digital age, the truth is not just a professional ideal; it is a strategic asset, and those who protect it are serving their country as surely as any soldier on the front line.
The CDS’s vision for the future of defence journalism goes even further, calling for what he described as intelligence-led journalism. This is a new paradigm that goes beyond sensational headlines to provide informed, technology-aware reporting that strengthens the unity of the armed forces, promotes civil-military trust, and counters extremist propaganda. In practical terms, intelligence-led journalism means that reporters must become students of technology, understanding the capabilities and dangers of AI, surveillance, and cyber warfare. They must learn to ask smarter questions, not just about what happened, but about the information ecosystem in which it happened. For example, when reporting on a military operation, a journalist might need to consider whether the images they are receiving are authentic or manipulated, whether the official narrative is being mirrored by disinformation agents, and whether their own reporting could be exploited by adversaries. This is a heavy burden to place on journalists, but it is also an opportunity to elevate the profession to a new level of importance. The CDS’s call is for a journalism that is not merely reactive, but proactive; a journalism that seeks out the truth with the same determination and sophistication as an intelligence agency. It means moving beyond the simple recitation of official statements and conflict reports to a deeper analysis of the underlying strategies, technologies, and information operations shaping the conflict. It also means being willing to challenge all sides, including the military itself, when necessary, but doing so with a spirit of partnership and shared purpose. The goal is not to offer blind praise to the armed forces, but to provide the public with the context and understanding they need to make informed judgments. In this model, reporting becomes a form of national service, a way of defending the country’s democratic values by ensuring that its citizens are not deceived by foreign or domestic actors seeking to manipulate them. It is a demanding standard, but as General Oluyede made clear, the times demand it.
In his concluding remarks, General Oluyede brought the message back to its most essential human truth. He declared that the Armed Forces of Nigeria remains resolute in its constitutional duty to defend Nigeria’s sovereignty and democracy, but he was unflinching in his admission that the military cannot succeed alone. The trust, cooperation, and synergy between the military and the citizenry, he said, mediated through a responsible press, remain indispensable. These are not just patriotic slogans; they are a recognition that the true strength of a nation lies not in its weapons, but in the bonds that connect its people to its institutions. When a population trusts its military, it is more willing to provide the intelligence and support needed to combat threats. When a military trusts the press, it is more open and transparent, which in turn builds public confidence. When the press is responsible and committed to the truth, it becomes the vital conduit that keeps this virtuous cycle alive. The CDS commended DECAN for sustaining professionalism, patriotism, and partnership in defence reporting, and he assured the association of Defence Headquarters’ continued support and open-door policy for timely and accurate information sharing. This is a significant commitment, signaling a desire for a transparent and collaborative relationship. But the message as a whole was more than a formal address to an association of journalists; it was a plea for collective resilience. In a world where a cheap AI tool can fabricate a convincing lie in seconds, the defense of Nigeria’s security depends on the vigilance of its media and the awareness of its citizens. The conference in Abuja was not just an occasion for discussion, but a moment of awakening. The correspondents left with a new understanding of their power and their responsibility. They are no longer just chroniclers of history; they are guardians of the truth, partners in the defense of the nation, and essential players in the battle for the human mind. The future of Nigeria’s security, General Oluyede reminded them, will be decided not only in the operations rooms of the military, but in the newsrooms, the WhatsApp groups, and the social media platforms where the narrative of the nation is forged. And in that battle, everyone has a role to play.