By Al’amin Umar
*MAIDUGURI, Nigeria As terrorists intensify their attacks on military formations in the rural areas of Borno State, internally displaced persons (IDPs) report they are paying a double price: threatened by insurgents for refusing to cooperate, and punished by security forces who suspect them of doing so.
It was midnight on April 12 when Modu Baluye woke to the sound of gunfire. He was asleep with his family inside a classroom at the Government Girls’ Secondary School (GGSS) in Monguno, northern Borno—a facility currently serving as a temporary displacement camp—when the first shots rang out.
The battle between insurgents and military forces at the nearby Sector 3 base lasted for about four hours. As troops pursued the retreating fighters along an exit route, their vehicle struck a buried improvised explosive device (IED), killing the commanding officer and six other soldiers.
By morning, fear had settled over the displacement camps. Suspicious of the settlements closest to the base, security forces raided the Gana Ali and GGSS camps. Residents reported that five suspected informants were arrested and weapons recovered. Shortly after, the military ordered the communities to evacuate.
“They told us: leave, or we will kill you all and burn down your houses,” Baluye recalled. Within two days, families dismantled their shelters and relocated to a government-designated settlement on the outskirts of Monguno. “The place was torched after we left,” Baluye said. “I am not sure who did it.”
For Baluye, this is another chapter in a decade-long struggle. He first fled his home village of Ala in the Marte Local Government Area (LGA) in 2016. After years of living in temporary camps, he had recently purchased land and begun building a mud house. That unfinished structure, and the life he was trying to rebuild, has now been abandoned.
A Resurgent Conflict
The Monguno incident comes amid a renewed wave of insurgent assaults on military installations and rural outposts across Borno State.
In recent months, fighters from Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad (JAS), commonly known as Boko Haram, and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) have repeatedly targeted troops, bases, and supply routes.
* In November 2025, terrorists ambushed a military convoy along the Damboa-Biu road, killing two soldiers and two members of the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF). The commander of the 25 Task Force Brigade, Brigadier-General M. Uba, was abducted and later killed.
* On January 26, an assault on a military base in Damasak left seven soldiers dead and 13 captured, though most later escaped.
* On January 31, an attack on an army base in Sabon Gari killed nine soldiers and two CJTF members.
* On March 10, the commanding officer of a military base in Kukawa, Lt. Col. Umar Farouq, and several of his men were killed in a raid.
* On April 9, three days before the Monguno clash, Brigadier-General Oseni Braimah, commander of the 29 Task Force Brigade, was killed during an attack on the brigade’s headquarters in Benisheikh.
These losses have forced troops to consolidate around larger garrison towns, leaving smaller settlements vulnerable. But when military personnel are killed, residents say the backlash often falls on the surrounding communities.
The Trails of Suspicion
In rural Borno, civilians find themselves trapped between two hostile forces. Terrorists demand intelligence on military patrols, while soldiers demand information on insurgent hideouts.
Refusing either side is perilous. Those suspected of aiding the military face abduction or execution by insurgents. Conversely, those suspected of harboring or assisting terrorists face arrest, detention, or forced eviction by security forces.
During an operational visit to Maiduguri in March, the Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), Gen. Olufemi Oluyede, argued that local residents often know who is behind the attacks. He urged communities to take ownership of their security, citing an incident in Kukawa where he claimed two of the attackers were local villagers.
However, analysts and residents point out that in areas where insurgents move freely, silence is often the only means of survival.
Abubakar Mu’azu, a professor and former director of the Centre for Peace, Development, and Diplomatic Studies at the University of Maiduguri, noted that this mutual suspicion has persisted since the early years of the insurgency.
“Right from the start, there was suspicion by the security agencies that the people living in these areas are supporting the terrorists,” Mu’azu said. “They often overlook the fact that the vast majority of these people do not support them. The military assumes the locals are giving information to the terrorists willingly, yet they turn around and demand that these same terrified civilians provide them with intelligence.”
Life Under Duress
In Monguno, residents report that insurgents frequently enter the town to purchase food and supplies before retreating into the bush.
“They come and leave at will,” said Koso Abubakar, a displaced farmer. “Sometimes they come to kidnap people. If they don’t attack the military, the military does not confront them. But when they do attack, the military retaliates, and everyone becomes a target.”
For rural workers, daily survival carries legal risk. To farm, fish, or trade along regional routes, civilians must often pay “taxes” or transit fees to insurgent groups controlling the pathways. To refuse is to risk death; to pay is to risk being labeled a sponsor of terrorism by the military.
Insurgents also use extreme violence to deter cooperation with the government. In March 2022, ISWAP executed four civilians in the Lake Chad region after accusing them of spying for the military. More recently, in March of this year, a brutal insurgent raid on the town of Ngoshe, which resulted in multiple deaths and abductions, was widely believed to be retaliation for a military operation that the insurgents suspected locals had facilitated.
The Cost of Collective Punishment
The military’s history of mass detentions has left deep scars in Borno. In April 2014, 42 men were arrested in Gallari, Konduga LGA, on suspicion of insurgent ties and taken to the Giwa Barracks detention facility in Maiduguri. Twelve years later, only three have regained their freedom.
Mu’azu urged security agencies to adopt a more targeted approach to law enforcement rather than resorting to collective punishment or forced evictions.
“When security forces deal with these situations, they should not operate under the assumption that the entire population is sympathetic to the enemy,” Mu’azu said. “If there are suspects, they should be arrested and handed over to the police for proper investigation, rather than burning settlements or forcing evacuations, which only destroys what little community support exists.”
He warned that heavy-handed tactics could backfire, driving fearful residents away from the government and potentially into the hands of recruitment networks.
Following the military raid in Monguno, many displaced residents fled directly into the bush out of fear of the soldiers.
“Many people left because they feared the military didn’t trust them,” Abubakar said.
For the twice-displaced residents of Monguno, the immediate reality is bleak. Having fled the initial horrors of the insurgency, they now find themselves displaced once again—caught in the narrow, dangerous space between the terror groups they fear and the state forces sent to protect them.
