I found myself waiting to speak in a room in Sarkinpawa, Niger state, surrounded by both Muslim and Christian attendees.
The Nigerian Army Major overseeing the Forward Operating Base (FOB) informed the group of my visit, prompting them to gather for my arrival. Sarkin Pawa is situated in a volatile area, with the FOB serving as a crucial barrier against armed gangs of Fulani herdsmen who are active in the North Central States, preying on victims for kidnapping or worse.
The village itself has become overcrowded as rural families have fled their farms and small communities to seek refuge at the military FOB. People are sleeping on the floors of schools—a cramped situation, but in this context, the FOB feels like a sanctuary.
Sarkin Pawa marked the end of my month-long reporting trip across Abuja and several northern states like Plateau, Benue, Kaduna, and Niger. Along the way, I encountered skilled soldiers and genuinely kind individuals in villages and towns who remained gracious amidst ongoing violence. I traveled in armored vehicles, gaining rare access to the operations of the Nigerian security forces as they navigated challenging terrains to reach the communities they are tasked with protecting.
February’s launch of Operation Savannah Shield, part of President Tinubu’s efforts to address the security crisis, is just one example of the government’s response. Initiatives like redeploying forest guards and establishing additional FOBs seek to counteract the chaos, yet the details of these operations are often kept secret.
Back in the meeting room, a community leader named Alhaji Adamu Ibrahim encouraged anyone to speak. One by one, attendees shared harrowing experiences of kidnapping and terrorism, detailing what they had lost and why they were at the FOB. They described fleeing their farms due to armed banditry, voicing their hunger since they cannot return to planting and harvesting.
To my surprise, Alhaji turned and asked me to address the group. I remarked on the camaraderie between him and a local pastor, Reverend James Idhi, highlighting the juxtaposition of their unity against the backdrop of the violent narrative often portrayed about North-Central Nigeria. Pastor Idhi expressed, “We live in peace here. We share gifts and fast together.” It startled me to learn that Christians in Sarkinpawa also observe fasting during Ramadan alongside Muslims, which prompted cheers and applause from the room.
During my travels, I visited various places—from churches and mosques to farms and prisons. I spoke with numerous individuals, including kidnap survivors and clerics, none of whom attributed the violence they experienced solely to religion. Some mentioned religious tensions, but others pointed to issues like ethnic conflict, land disputes, and banditry rooted in economic motives. It’s a complex web of factors rather than a single narrative.
This is critical to understand because Nigeria is facing multiple conflicts, not just one.
In the far north, Boko Haram and the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) operate in a distinct manner, driven by their own specific motives and histories. In contrast, the violence I witnessed in the Middle Belt comprised a muddle of personal vendettas, opportunistic assaults, and local dysfunction that occasionally bore religious undertones but weren’t solely based on religion. A major shortcoming of external reports is their tendency to merge these separate struggles into one oversimplified narrative of jihad.
While many headlines in the United States paint a picture of a religiously motivated extermination campaign against Christians, my trip revealed a more nuanced reality that fails to align with this viewpoint. As James Burnett from the Hudson Institute sheds light on, jihadist groups often employ simplistic narratives around Nigeria’s religious divide to justify their violence.
“These groups strive to frame all social divides in Nigeria as fundamentally religious, falsely igniting a larger conflict between Muslims and Christians, thus ignoring the complex realities that truly exist.”
Getting the details right is crucial. Misunderstanding the nature of these conflicts alters perceptions and strategies in addressing them. Reducing Nigeria’s security turmoil to a mere religious war only serves to bolster the divisive agenda of terrorists. From what I’ve seen firsthand, there’s no evidence of a systematic extermination effort targeted at any particular faith group. The violence is indeed serious, but it doesn’t conform to the single narrative of Christian genocide that has become prevalent in American discourse.
I’ve heard unsettling claims about the Nigerian government possibly collaborating with Fulani militants. In a country plagued by corruption, I find it plausible that informants and sympathizers exist. However, I found no concrete proof that President Tinubu or senior security officials are actively supporting violence against specific groups.
What I did observe were soldiers diligently patrolling remote regions, responding to reports of armed activity, aiming to maintain peace in communities anticipating retaliation after attacks. Their focus seemed directed towards preventing cycles of revenge rather than launching large-scale operations, which, to some, might appear as a form of appeasement towards distressed communities.
It’s also essential to recognize that many locals feel let down by the state. In certain regions, soldiers seem to arrive too late, or reports suggest they withdraw before an attack occurs. While suspicions abound, deeper exploration into these hot zones painted a different picture—not of collusion between the government and militants, but rather that Nigeria’s security leadership is genuinely trying to address the rampant violence.
With operational assistance from President Trump and the U.S. military, the Nigerian forces are targeting groups like Boko Haram and ISWAP. In the areas I reported from, I even spent the night in an armored vehicle with troops engaged in President Tinubu’s security measures. From FOBs, they conducted patrols on roads, moving between villages to disrupt armed groups and thwart retaliatory assaults.
From an external viewpoint, this conflict might seem like a religious war; however, the reality on the ground offers a starkly different perspective.
