Enyong Sidney

How Bandits Took Over Nigeria Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message. What if I told you there's a war raging in Nigeria, deadlier than Boko Haram, but almost no one outside the country is talking about it? Since 2011, Nigeria's northwest has been gripped by a wave of chaos and bloodshed. Armed bandit groups in states like Zamfara, Katsina, and Kaduna have quietly unleashed a reign of terror. In some places, the death toll even surpasses what Boko Haram caused at its most violent point. And it is no longer just a problem in the northwest. What started as a regional crisis is now spreading across the country. These so-called bandits are not just petty criminals. They are organized networks made up of dozens of gangs. Some have just a handful of fighters, others have over a thousand. Their crimes include kidnapping schoolchildren, raiding gold mines, extorting villagers, and wiping out entire communities. This is the story of Nigeria's hidden war, the banditry crisis tearing through the heart of Africa's most populous nation. Nigeria is home to over 220 million people. It's the most populous nation in Africa and one of the largest economies on the continent. But the numbers don't tell the full story. Over half of Nigerians live in rural areas, and for many of them, daily life revolves around farming just enough to survive. It is estimated that around 136 million Nigerians live below the poverty line of $2.15 a day. In these conditions of desperation, banditry has found fertile ground in Nigeria. But banditry isn't new in Nigeria. It has deep roots going back over a century. For generations, small groups of cattle rustlers raided northern villages. Their targets were livestock, grain, and food. For decades, disputes between farmers and herders were settled locally. Communities had traditional systems in place to resolve conflicts over land and grazing routes, often through dialogue, elders, and mutual understanding. In many of these rural areas, Hausa farmers and Fulani herders lived side by side. They traded, cooperated, and sometimes even intermarried. Peace wasn't perfect, but there was balance. Unfortunately, government land policies started changing. Land that was once open for grazing was sold or rented out to farmers. As grazing paths disappeared, herders began clashing with farmers over access. Then climate change kicked in. The rains became unpredictable, water sources dried up, farmland shrank, and with Nigeria's population booming, the pressures on land and resources exploded. Now imagine you're a herder. Your cattle are dying, the grazing routes are gone, and you have no way to feed your family. Or you're a farmer, and desperate herders are driving their animals through your crops. First there are arguments, then fights, then killings. And in that chaos, opportunities stepped in. Highway robberies and cattle theft were rising fast across the northwest by the mid-2000s, with Zamfara at the epicenter. But around 2011, the violence escalated into something far more dangerous. One of the key triggers? Gold. Zamfara sits on rich gold reserves, and when illegal mining operations popped up, they brought more than just fortune seekers. They brought crime networks, political actors, and armed men willing to kill for control. Bandits went from stealing cattle to running mines, and in many cases, they were backed by powerful interests. Some of these illegal miners had international connections. They smuggled gold through neighboring countries to places like Dubai and China. Poor youths were put into the trade. Armed gangs were hired to protect illegal sites from rivals, locals, or even the Nigerian government itself. With little government presence in rural areas, local communities in Nigeria's northwest had to defend themselves. In response to rising attacks, Hausa villagers formed vigilante groups known as the Yansakai. These were grassroots self-defense teams. They patrolled forests, guarded farmlands, and gained support for pushing back against cattle thieves and raiders. But as their power grew, so did their brutality. Yansakai fighters began handing out their own justice, confiscating cattle, burning homes, and executing suspects in public without trials. Their actions increasingly targeted Fulani herders. Then, in 2013, a turning point came. A respected Fulani elder, Alaji Ishe, was killed by Hausa vigilantes in Zamfara. He had been a voice of peace, advocating for herders and mediating disputes between Fulani and Hausa. Alaji Ishe was accused of harboring criminals and cattle rustlers. His murder devastated Fulani communities. Many believed it was an attack on their identity, not just one man. In response, young Fulani men started joining armed groups not only for revenge but also for protection. Some of these groups initially formed to defend Fulani settlements from vigilante raids. But over time, they transformed into heavily armed gangs, stealing cattle, looting villages, and spreading fear. A cycle of violence began. One Yansakai raid led to a Fulani reprisal. One Fulani attack sparked a Hausa counterattack. Entire communities were caught in the middle. As the cycle of violence intensified, bandit groups grew larger, bolder, and more sophisticated. What began as local clashes soon turned into something bigger. Some groups started drawing in foreign fighters, including Tuareg rebels from Mali, Niger, and Chad. These men brought with them military training, battle-tested tactics, and access to weapons smuggled from past conflicts. By 2016, these groups were using AK-47s and moving quickly on motorbikes, raiding entire villages and stealing hundreds of cattle at a time. From Zamfara, banditry spread to Kaduna, Katsina, Sokoto, Kebi, and Kanu. It reached Niger State in the Nasarawa and Benue. In some cases, original groups simply relocated to avoid peace talks. In others, new gangs copied their tactics. Either way, the violence kept growing. Caught in the middle were ordinary people. Neutral families, those who didn't support either side, were often accused of being traitors. Some were punished by their own communities for refusing to take sides. Others were targeted simply for being related to a fighter. The reality is that both Fulani and Hausa civilians are now victims. The lines between bandits, civilians, and vigilantes have been blurred. In some regions, the violence takes on a darker dimension, especially in southern Kaduna. There, Christian minority tribes have clashed with predominantly Muslim Hausa Fulani for decades. In this region, bandits, often Fulani Muslims, have been accused of targeting Christian farming communities. In response, Christian militias have emerged seeking revenge or self-defense. While religion may not be the root cause of banditry, it magnifies the hatred. It turns local disputes into identity wars and makes peace harder to find. Both vigilante groups and bandits began kidnapping community leaders to gain leverage or secure prisoner swaps. But soon, ransom kidnapping turned into a booming business. At first, these abductions were tactical. Now, they're strategic. By 2019, kidnapping had surpassed cattle wrestling as the number one source of income for bandits. Bandit groups realized something. Hostages were more profitable than stolen cows. A single successful ransom could bring in millions of naira. And the targets were everywhere. School children, farmers, market traders, travelers, and even local politicians. As ransom profits soared, banditry evolved not just in tactics but in scale. More groups emerged, more fighters joined, and the structure of violence changed. Today, bandits in Nigeria operate under a decentralized network. There's no single command, no shared ideology, and no unified leadership. Estimates suggest there may be up to 30,000 fighters spread across dozens of gangs. Some groups have just 10 men, others have more than a thousand. Most of these are based in Zamfara, but their reach extends across the northwest. And their strategy is simple. Stay fast, stay hidden. They use Nigeria's vast forest networks as cover. Forests too thick for food patrols and too large for easy surveillance. And when they strike, they move fast. Motorbikes are bandits' key weapon. They are cheap, fast, and unregistered. Some raids involve as many as 200 bikes, each carrying two gunmen and sometimes a hostage. These motorbikes double as attack vehicles, transport for ammunition, and getaway rides. Tracking them is nearly impossible. What sustains this machine is a steady flow of weapons. Bandits have easy access to illicit arms from the black market, thanks to weak borders and poor law enforcement. Nigeria shares a 1,500 kilometer border with Niger, much of it barely patrolled. After the fall of Muammar Gaddafi in 2011, weapons from Libya flooded the Sahel. Guns meant for warlords and rebels found their way into Nigeria's forests. Additionally, bandit groups recruit mostly from the poor and desperate. Teenagers and young men in their 20s, often unemployed, lendless, and with no future, join up for protection, power, and income. At the top of the hierarchy are warlords, men who run gangs, control weapons, and make deals. They join for wealth and influence. At the bottom are foot soldiers, the ones who do the dirty work. They kidnap, wrestle cattle, and commit various acts of violence. The roots of this crisis run deep. Nigeria's northwest contains five of the ten poorest states in the country. These same states score lowest in revenue, infrastructure, literacy, and security. A weak economy, rising population, and failing governance created the perfect conditions for a violent underclass to emerge. Now, let's talk about the numbers. Since 2010, an estimated 13,400 people have been killed due to banditry. This is according to data from the ACLED. And that's just the official count. The real number could be far higher. In the five years between 2019 and early 2024, over 9,500 people were kidnapped in the northwest. That's 62% of all reported abduction cases in Nigeria. And remember, many of these crimes go unreported. Survivors stay silent out of fear. Journalists can't even reach certain regions. Even local governments don't always keep track. Zamfara State alone has seen more than three billion naira paid in ransom. That's money drained not just from government coffers, but from families who sell land or go into debt just to get their loved ones back. The violence has created a humanitarian crisis. More than 25,000 children in Zamfara State alone have been orphaned. Across the northwest, over 200,000 people have been displaced. For those who stay, life means constant fear. Schools are attacked. Kidnappings are common. All of this is the ripple effect of unchecked violence. The longer banditry continues, the more fragile local economies become. As banditry has spiraled out of control, spreading across states, overwhelming communities, and even targeting soldiers, the Nigerian government has been forced to act. For instance, in November 2021, the Nigerian government formally designated bandit groups as terrorists. This move allowed security forces to target the bandits under the Terrorism Prevention Act, increasing penalties not just for gunmen, but also for their collaborators, including anyone supplying fuel, food, or weapons. But declaring a group as terrorists and defeating them are two very different things. Since that declaration, the government has tried a mix of strategies, from military crackdowns to local peace deals, all with mixed results. In 2021 and 2022, the government launched a major security operation. This included coordinated air raids on forest hideouts, shutting down telecom networks across parts of Zamfara, Katsina, and Sokoto, and restricting fuel and motorcycle movement to choke the bandits' logistics. But the bandits adapted. They moved deeper into the forest, shifted to smaller raids, and spread into new territories. Local governments tried negotiating with bandits, offering amnesty, cash, or promises of reintegration, but most peace deals collapsed. In May 2024, Nigeria's Minister of Defense, Mohamed Badaru, announced a significant breakthrough. He reported that the military had killed around 9,300 bandits and terrorists, arrested over 7,000 suspects, and recovered nearly 5,000 firearms along with 84,000 rounds of ammunition. These numbers suggest progress, but many experts argue that Nigeria's overstretched military remains under-resourced and overwhelmed. Troops are simultaneously deployed against Boko in the northeast, separatist movements in the southeast, and farmer-herder clashes in the central region. What's clear is that the Nigerian state is fighting multiple wars at once, with limited resources, low morale, and inconsistent policy execution. As of June 2025, Nigeria's banditry crisis has crossed a terrifying threshold. No longer confined to the northwest, the violence surged into the country's middle belt. On June 13 and 14, armed men unleashed one of the deadliest attacks in recent memory in Yelwata, a town in Benue State. Unprecedented and unprovoked, that's how locals describe the brutal onslaught that has left Yelwata reeling. For at least four hours last Friday, gunmen laid siege to this village, shooting, hacking, and setting corpses ablaze. They came well prepared, shooting anyone in sight, barely managed to escape. Let everyone at home and abroad know that there is war at home. There is war, there is genocide going on, indeed in Benue State and in Nigeria. This is genocide to people who are not fighting, people who are just earning their life from their prison family. Why would you massacre them? For what? All of this shows that what began as local vigilante skirmishes has evolved into a nationwide crisis, entrenched, deadly, and spreading fast in Nigeria. Thank you all for tuning in. This has been Tatenda for African Biographics. Until next time, cheers. Have a good one. Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.