Do We Now Die by Appointment?A nation reassured into routine vulnerability —By Lanre Ogundipe

It would appear that the nation is on the verge of a significant administrative breakthrough.
For years, there has been a persistent gap between event and expectation, between assurance and outcome, between what is known and what is done. Such gaps, as every well-ordered system understands, are not to be ignored—they are to be organised.

Disorder, when it repeats itself with sufficient regularity, ceases to be disorder; it becomes a pattern. And patterns, if properly appreciated, invite structure.
And so, at last, a solution presents itself.

A timetable.

Not the ordinary kind, of course. Not the mundane arrangement of meetings, briefings, and memoranda. This would be something more refined, more attuned to present realities—a national schedule of preparedness, carefully calibrated to align citizens with the rhythm of unfolding events.

After all, patterns, once sufficiently repeated, deserve recognition.
Events occur. Responses follow. Assurances are issued. Calm is restored—briefly. Visits are made. Committees are inaugurated. Statements are refined. Panels are proposed. And then, with admirable consistency, the sequence resumes. It is, by any administrative standard, a cycle of impressive reliability—almost elegant in its predictability.
It would be wasteful not to formalise it.

There is, we are often informed, no shortage of awareness. Names are known. Lists exist. Knowledge, far from being absent, is said to be abundant—quietly stored, carefully maintained, and occasionally referenced with reassuring confidence. One is left with the impression of a system that sees clearly, records diligently, remembers faithfully, and yet moves with deliberate restraint.
This is encouraging.

It suggests that the nation is not wandering in uncertainty, but advancing—deliberately—within a framework of informed patience. That what appears to be delay may in fact be timing. That what seems like distance may simply be sequencing. That action, like all important processes, must await its proper moment, its administrative maturity, its

institutional readiness.

In such circumstances, it is only reasonable that citizens be invited to participate more fully in this arrangement.
Hence the proposal.
Let there be issued, from time to time, a Kindly Notice.
Not dramatic. Not alarming. But sufficiently informative. A gentle communication, perhaps, advising citizens that within the ongoing management of national affairs, certain periods may require heightened awareness, adjusted movement, and a readiness of spirit.

A notice of alignment.

For citizens, it must be said, have shown remarkable adaptability. They have learned to read between statements, to interpret silence, to anticipate recurrence. They have mastered the art of continuation—living, moving, and planning within an environment that is both familiar and unpredictable. They travel with caution, gather with discretion, and celebrate with an awareness that joy, like movement, may require moderation.

They have adjusted their expectations without formal instruction. They have developed informal protocols—routes reconsidered, hours recalibrated, routines redesigned. They have learned, without being told, that caution is no longer optional but essential.

What they lack is not resilience.
It is scheduling.
And scheduling, as every institution knows, is the difference between confusion and order.

There is also the matter of equity—though it need not be pressed too firmly. It has been observed, quite respectfully, that certain forms of protection operate with admirable efficiency in some quarters. They arrive promptly, position themselves strategically, and respond with impressive coordination. Elsewhere, protection takes on a more reflective character—arriving in language, maturing in process, and resolving in reassurance.
It is, one might say, a diversified system.

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One in which proximity determines immediacy, and distance encourages patience. One in which visibility attracts response, while invisibility invites endurance. One in which protection, though present, is experienced differently depending on one’s location within the administrative imagination.
But diversification, when properly managed, benefits from transparency.

Which is why the Kindly Notice becomes so important.
It would not only inform—it would harmonise. It would bring citizens into closer alignment with the operational tempo of national security. It would allow them to organise their affairs, adjust their expectations, and participate—knowingly—in the unfolding sequence. It would convert speculation into preparation, and uncertainty into routine.
It would, in short, create a sense of inclusion.

For what is governance, if not the careful distribution of awareness?
And what is awareness, if not best shared in a timely manner?
Naturally, the Notice would be crafted with the usual attention to tone. Calm. Measured. Reassuring. Perhaps accompanied by a reminder that all remains under control, that appropriate steps are being taken, and that citizens, in their characteristic discipline, are encouraged to remain composed.

Composure, after all, has proven to be one of the nation’s most reliable assets.
Over time, the benefits of such a system would become evident. Uncertainty would give way to anticipation. Anxiety would be replaced by preparation. The unexpected would acquire structure. Citizens would begin to adjust not after events, but before them. Conversations would shift from surprise to scheduling, from shock to sequencing, from reaction to quiet anticipation.

It would be, by all accounts, a triumph of organisation.
And perhaps, in time, it would evolve further. Notices might become more precise. Windows of expectation might be narrowed. Communities might be guided with increasing specificity. Preparation could be refined into routine, and routine into acceptance.

Acceptance, in turn, might mature into a form of disciplined expectation.
At that point, the system would have achieved a rare efficiency—one in which reality and expectation move in quiet synchrony.

Of course, there may be those who question the necessity of such an arrangement. Who wonder, quietly, whether the existence of knowledge might suggest the possibility of interruption. Who entertain, however briefly, the idea that awareness and action might occasionally coincide, that recognition might lead to response, that prevention might one day rival explanation.
Who ask, perhaps too earnestly, whether a system designed to protect might one day prioritise interruption over narration.

But such thoughts, while understandable, risk unsettling the balance of the present system.
For the system, as it stands, possesses a certain rhythm. A continuity. A dependable progression from event to assurance, from occurrence to response, from knowledge to patience. It is a sequence that has, over time, achieved both familiarity and endurance.

It is, in its own way, a form of order.
And order, once established, is not to be lightly disturbed.

Until such time as a different arrangement becomes desirable, the proposal remains both practical and considerate.

A Kindly Notice.
A gentle indication.
A timetable, if necessary.
And when the appointed moment arrives—as it has shown a consistent talent for doing—the nation will respond with its customary composure. Adjusting, absorbing, and awaiting, with disciplined patience, the next carefully delivered reassurance.
It is, after all, a system that has achieved remarkable consistency.
And consistency, in any well-managed environment, is a sign—subtle, but unmistakable—that things are working exactly as intended.

Where assurance is scheduled, and action deferred, inevitability begins to look like design.
Ogundipe, Public Affairs Analyst, former President Nigeria and Africa Union of Journalists, writes from Abuja.