A former Nigerian Army lance corporal, Rotimi Olamilekan, widely known as Soja Boi, has challenged the military to release its official payroll after presenting bank transaction alerts he claims prove soldiers earn low wages and often buy their own protective gear. In a video posted on Tuesday, Olamilekan, whose service number is 18NA/77/1009, displayed three transaction alerts: a credit of N112,061.59 on February 2, 2026, tagged "NIC-ARMY AC"; N20,000 on February 4, 2026, from "CBNi B/ORFL CENTRAL B"; and N45,000 on November 4, 2025, from "SKYSTONE FINANCE COMPANY LTD". He identified the largest sum as his base salary, the N20,000 as grumbling allowance, and the N45,000 as an operational allowance for troops deployed to conflict zones like Maiduguri. He stated this allowance is not guaranteed for all personnel. A N6,000 security allowance also exists, he added. Soldiers on barracks duty, he said, receive only salary and the N20,000 allowance. He maintained that helmets and fragmentation jackets are not fully provided, asserting, "Helmet, you go buy. Fragmentation jacket, you go buy them." He urged Nigerians with military relatives to verify his claims. The Nigerian Army, in a statement by Acting Director of Army Public Relations Appolonia Anaele, dismissed his allegations as false, insisting that all protective equipment is issued and no soldier deploys without adequate gear. The Army confirmed personnel receive consolidated salaries, uniform allowances and operational payments.
Rotimi Olamilekan, the dismissed soldier known as Soja Boi, has struck a nerve not by attacking the Army's integrity, but by presenting transaction receipts that suggest a disconnect between official narratives and soldiers' lived realities. His decision to name specific figures—N112,061.59 as base pay, N45,000 as a conditional operational allowance—transforms anecdote into tangible claim, forcing a public reckoning with what soldiers actually earn and endure.
The Army's swift dismissal, while expected, does little to erase the context of long-standing grievances over welfare and logistics in Nigeria's military. Olamilekan's assertion that troops buy their own helmets and jackets echoes complaints from other ranks over the years, even as the military insists equipment is centrally provided. The fact that allowances appear to come from varied sources—including a private finance company—raises unspoken questions about funding streams and transparency in military payroll systems. These are not mutinous claims; they are financial disclosures that challenge the opacity surrounding troop compensation.
For ordinary Nigerians, especially families with relatives in the military, this moment validates private anxieties about the risks and rewards of service. If frontline soldiers must spend personal funds on survival gear, the cost of national security is being quietly shifted onto the very people defending it.
This episode fits a broader pattern: when official channels fail to provide clarity, individuals resort to social media to make evidence public. Olamilekan didn't just allege—he showed receipts. That the Army has not countered with its own payroll data speaks volumes.