Russia Calls for Calm as Deadly Pakistan–Afghanistan Border Clashes Escalate

Russia has appealed for restraint following two days of heavy fighting between Pakistani and Taliban forces along their shared border, which has left dozens dead and severely disrupted trade activities in the region.

In a statement issued on Monday, the Russian Foreign Ministry said it was “closely monitoring the situation” and noted that tensions appeared to be “stabilising.” The Kremlin added that it “welcomes this process,” joining China, Iran, Saudi Arabia, and Qatar in calling for an immediate de-escalation.

Hostilities broke out late last week after the Taliban accused Pakistan of masterminding a series of explosions in Kabul and the eastern province of Paktika on Thursday.

By Saturday night, Taliban fighters reportedly launched coordinated attacks on several Pakistani military positions, triggering fierce retaliatory strikes. Both sides exchanged artillery fire, drone attacks, and gunfire through Sunday morning, with sporadic clashes continuing into the new week.

The two countries have released sharply conflicting casualty figures.

Pakistan’s military reported 23 soldiers killed while claiming to have neutralised more than 200 Taliban and allied fighters. However, Afghan officials countered that 58 Pakistani troops were killed in the exchanges.

By Monday, Pakistani troops were said to be on high alert along the Spin Boldak–Chaman crossing, where hundreds of civilians and commercial trucks remained stranded following the border closure.

Pakistan’s Foreign Ministry in a statement said the country “greatly values dialogue and diplomacy,” but warned that “any further provocations would be met with an unwavering and befitting response.”

Relations between Islamabad and Kabul have steadily worsened since the Taliban returned to power in 2021.

Pakistan has consistently accused Afghanistan of harbouring the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) — an armed group responsible for multiple attacks on Pakistani soil. The Taliban government has repeatedly denied the claim, insisting it does not support cross-border militancy.

Russia, which has sought to expand its influence in post-U.S. Afghanistan, has emerged as a key diplomatic player in the evolving South Asian security landscape.

In both 2022 and 2024, Taliban representatives attended the St. Petersburg International Economic Forum, marking a gradual thaw in Moscow–Kabul relations.

Last year, Russian President Vladimir Putin described the Taliban as “allies in the fight against terrorism,” particularly against ISIS-K (Islamic State Khorasan Province) — the regional affiliate of ISIL that has staged deadly attacks in Russia, Iran, and Afghanistan.

In July 2025, Russia became the first country to formally recognise the Taliban government — a decision the Kremlin said was intended to “boost productive bilateral cooperation across multiple sectors.”

Analysts say Moscow’s latest intervention reflects its growing stake in maintaining regional stability, especially as new power alignments emerge across Central and South Asia.

The Russian Foreign Ministry’s call for restraint, they note, underscores Moscow’s intent to position itself as a mediator and stabiliser amid shifting alliances and old rivalries in the region.

“Russia’s involvement is no longer symbolic,” said a senior Central Asian affairs analyst in Moscow. “It is actively trying to shape outcomes that prevent instability from spilling over into its southern borders.”

U.S. Government Shutdown Enters Third Week as Partisan Divide Worsens

The political standoff in the United States has deepened as the government shutdown entered its third week on Monday, with Republicans and Democrats still unable to reach a compromise on a new funding bill to reopen federal operations.

The prolonged closure has left hundreds of thousands of federal workers furloughed, major public institutions such as the Smithsonian museums and the National Zoo closed, and key services like air traffic control under increasing strain.

Despite mounting frustration from citizens and mounting economic concerns, both parties remain entrenched in their positions, showing no immediate signs of compromise.

At the heart of the stalemate is a fierce disagreement over health care spending.

Senate Democrats have refused to support a short-term funding bill unless Republicans agree to restore subsidies under the Affordable Care Act (ACA) and reverse President Donald Trump’s cuts to Medicaid.

Republicans, on the other hand, insist that the government must first reopen before any policy negotiations can take place, accusing Democrats of “holding the budget process hostage.”

The impasse underscores the deep mistrust that has defined relations between both parties — now nine months into Trump’s second term.

While recent opinion polls suggest that a majority of Americans blame Republicans for the crisis, neither side has yet to gain a clear political advantage from the standoff.

Standoffs escalated further on Friday after the Trump administration dismissed hundreds of government employees, a move widely condemned as politically motivated and unprecedented in modern U.S. governance.

The White House defended the layoffs as part of broader “efficiency measures,” but critics say it was an attempt to pressure Democrats and consolidate control over key agencies.

Several of the terminations were later reversed after widespread confusion within government departments, exposing what observers described as chaotic management inside the administration.

In a bid to control the public narrative, President Trump assured that military personnel would continue to receive pay, presenting himself as a leader defending national security in difficult times.

He accused Democrats of “holding the government hostage”, saying they were using civil servants as bargaining chips.

However, Democrats have countered that narrative, accusing Trump of politicising the civil service and inflicting avoidable hardship on working families.

“This president is trying to turn public service into a political tool,” Senator Mark Kelly said. “It’s an attack on civil servants and the very idea of an independent government.”

Within the Republican camp, signs of internal friction are beginning to show.

While House Speaker Mike Johnson and Vice President JD Vance have maintained that Democrats are to blame for prolonging the shutdown, some lawmakers — including Marjorie Taylor Greene and Kevin Kiley — have criticised their leadership’s refusal to reconvene Congress to negotiate an end to the crisis.

Party insiders warn that the shutdown could deepen divisions within the GOP ahead of next year’s midterm elections, especially if the public continues to associate the crisis with Republican inflexibility.

Across the United States, the economic toll is beginning to bite.

Local businesses dependent on federal contracts are reporting losses, tourism has slowed, and public frustration is mounting, particularly in Washington, D.C., where government operations remain partially paralysed.

Unions representing furloughed workers have staged demonstrations in several cities, demanding that both sides return to the negotiating table.

Economists estimate that the shutdown could cost the U.S. economy billions of dollars if it extends into a fourth week.

For now, the standoff shows no sign of easing. Both parties appear determined to hold their ground — each calculating that the other will bear the greater political cost of public anger.

Until one side finds more advantage in compromise than confrontation, the shutdown — and the hardship it inflicts — may continue indefinitely.

ASUU Strikes: The Endless Loop Nigeria Must Break 

By Alabidun Shuaib AbdulRahman

If there is any rhythm that has refused to change in Nigeria’s academic calendar, it is the drumbeat of strikes by the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU). Each cycle begins with a warning, swells into protests, and collapses into months of classroom paralysis. It makes students stranded, parents helpless, and the nation’s tertiary education trapped in recurring stagnation.

For decades, ASUU strikes have become a permanent punctuation in Nigeria’s educational story, making occurrences a tragedy that has outlived governments, policy directions, and even generations of undergraduates. The irony is that every new strike looks like the last: same demands, same government responses, same media debates, and the same outcome — suspension, not resolution.

How did Nigeria get here? And why does this crisis appear so cyclical, almost generational?

The Academic Staff Union of Universities was founded in 1978, emerging from the ashes of the Nigerian Association of University Teachers (NAUT). From inception, ASUU was not just a trade union; it was a conscience of the academia, a body that saw itself as guardian of intellectual autonomy, national development, and academic integrity.

But its relationship with the government has always been uneasy. The first major showdown came in 1988 during General Ibrahim Babangida’s regime, when ASUU embarked on a strike to demand fair wages, university autonomy, and funding. The government’s response was swift and draconian. ASUU was banned, its leaders detained, and salaries withheld. Yet, the union’s resilience prevailed, and by 1990, it was reinstated.

Since then, ASUU has gone on strike over twenty times, spanning military and democratic dispensations alike. The issues have remained stubbornly familiar: poor funding, unpaid allowances, inadequate infrastructure, decaying research capacity, and government’s failure to honour previous agreements.

The landmark agreement of 2009 between ASUU and the Federal Government was supposed to be a turning point. It captured key demands that included better welfare for lecturers, revitalisation of infrastructure, and university autonomy. But, as with many government pacts in Nigeria, the implementation was half-hearted and short-lived. The Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) in 2013, 2017, and 2020 merely recycled promises, each one becoming a prelude to the next crisis.

Every ASUU strike has two layers — the visible and the political. On the surface, it’s about funding and welfare. Beneath that lies distrust, ego, and inconsistent leadership.

Government negotiators often approach agreements as temporary pacifications rather than binding contracts. Ministries change, priorities shift, and promises fade. ASUU, on its part, wields strikes as its strongest bargaining tool. Sometimes effective but increasingly self-defeating.

Both sides share blame for the cyclical failure. Government often defaults, while ASUU, in its moral fervour, sometimes resists pragmatic reform, especially in accountability and diversification of funding. The result is a predictable dance: delay, protest, strike, negotiation, suspension and then repeat.

The consequences are devastating. Millions of students lose valuable academic time, universities fall behind global peers, and research collapses. Parents endure emotional and financial stress; employers distrust local degrees; and private universities quietly benefit from public dysfunction.

During the eight-month strike in 2022, Nigeria lost an estimated ₦1.5 trillion in productivity. Many lecturers relocated abroad, deepening brain drain. The crisis is no longer a union-government quarrel but a national emergency that undermines development.

Nigeria isn’t alone in facing academic labour disputes but other countries learned, adapted, and reformed.

In India, repeated strikes in the 1990s led to creation of the University Grants Commission Reforms, which institutionalised regular wage reviews and infrastructure funding insulated from political manipulation.

In South Africa, the “Fees Must Fall” crisis of 2015 forced government and universities to form oversight committees of academics and students to monitor education spending. Transparency replaced tension, restoring confidence.

Kenya went further. It enacted a Collective Bargaining Framework that legally binds both government and unions for four-year terms. No administration can unilaterally breach it without parliamentary approval. Predictability replaced confrontation.

Nigeria can learn from these examples. The problem is not absence of ideas but absence of political will and institutional discipline.

The heart of the problem is philosophical: Nigeria treats education as expenditure and not investment. That mindset must change.

While Ghana invests about 6.5% of GDP in education, Nigeria spends less than 2%. South Korea channels more into research than oil. Their progress is no mystery. They fund their future.

Every strike pushes Nigeria’s future further behind. Education is not just another sector; it is the soil on which every other grows. Without it, national development becomes guesswork.

Although ASUU’s struggle is noble but must evolve. Activism must give way to innovation. The union should complement resistance with reform, proposing alternative funding models, driving research-commercial partnerships, and mentoring new lecturers for modern academic challenges.

The government, on the other hand, must understand that signing agreements without intention to implement is governance without honour. Each broken promise erodes trust and provokes another strike.

A serious government should measure progress not by the number of schools built but by the quality of minds produced. When airports function better than universities, the country builds departures, not destinies.

If Nigeria truly wishes to end the ASUU strikes, both sides must shift from rhetoric to reform.

Every ASUU–Federal Government agreement should be backed by legislation. Once domesticated by the National Assembly, any breach becomes actionable, not negotiable. Education cannot thrive on verbal promises.

Beyond TETFund, Nigeria needs an Education Stabilisation Fund co-managed by government, ASUU, private sector, and alumni networks. Funding can come from education levies, grants, and endowments. This would provide consistent support regardless of annual budget politics.

ASUU must demonstrate stewardship. Universities should publish audited reports on how revitalisation or research funds are spent. Accountability strengthens credibility.

Set a four-year salary review cycle tied to inflation, GDP, and minimum wage benchmarks. Once automatic, it removes salary from recurring contention.

A permanent University Industrial Mediation Council (UIMC), composed of respected scholars, jurists, and labour experts, can serve as an early-warning system — intervening before crises escalate.

A public online dashboard showing government disbursements and ASUU obligations would foster accountability. When citizens can see the truth, both sides act more responsibly.

The future lies in structure, not sentiment. A binding framework, transparent governance, and joint accountability can end the strike culture permanently.

ASUU must rise beyond protest politics, and the government must govern with integrity. Both must see education as a shared project and not a battlefield.

If Nigeria’s leaders can build political peace accords and implement oil-sharing formulas, they can certainly fund and protect the education sector.

Until then, the next strike will not surprise anyone. It will simply mark another sequel in a story that should have ended years ago.