Nigeria on the Brink: Terrorists Advance as Military Struggles to Hold the Line
Nigeria is staring down the barrel of failure. Over two million citizens have been displaced by unrelenting terror attacks, many now languishing in insecure and overcrowded IDP camps.
The country’s military, already stretched thin, is locked in simultaneous battles across multiple fronts—fighting Boko Haram, ISWAP, bandits, militias, and deadly Fulani herdsmen. Adding to the crisis, porous northern borders allow for a steady flow of illegal arms from the conflict-ridden Sahel, enabling insurgents to wreak havoc with impunity.
The military high command has acknowledged the role of these smuggled weapons in the growing tide of violence aimed at carving out ungoverned spaces for terrorism, kidnapping, and other illicit trade.
Compounding the security disaster is a deepening socio-economic crisis. Harsh government policies—chief among them the abrupt removal of petrol subsidies and naira flotation by President Bola Tinubu in 2023—have plunged millions into poverty and despair.
Perhaps most alarming is the relentless assault on the Nigerian military itself. Since January, terrorists have intensified attacks on military bases, seizing weapons and overrun positions with growing confidence. The battlefield reality suggests a nation steadily losing control of its territorial integrity.
Infamous bandit warlord Bello Turji demonstrated the depth of state failure during Ramadan when he roamed freely between Zamfara and Sokoto, slaughtering over 10 people during his journey. Shockingly, security agencies could not agree on who had the authority to apprehend him, while Defence Headquarters weakly insisted he was “on the run.”
Zamfara lawmaker Aminu Jaji recently shared a chilling testimony in the House of Representatives: a pregnant woman kidnapped by terrorists gave birth to twins in captivity—only to have the newborns fed to dogs by her captors. “Our people are no longer safe,” Jaji lamented. “They cannot farm, they cannot trade, and many are internally displaced, unrecognised by both state and federal authorities.”
In some rural communities, bandits now collect taxes, adjudicate disputes, and enforce their own rules—clear signs of a weakening state losing its monopoly on violence.
Soldiers themselves are paying a heavy price. Several military formations in Borno and Yobe States have fallen to insurgents since the beginning of the year. In one viral video, a soldier could be seen comforting a grieving comrade after a brutal attack on their base. “Stop crying, please,” he repeated helplessly.
In early May, Boko Haram fighters attacked a military base in Marte, Borno, killing five soldiers and torching the facility. Within hours, coordinated attacks followed in Rann, Gajiram, and Dikwa. Four soldiers were killed and six injured in Rann, while the other bases narrowly avoided being overrun.
Lawmakers like Yusuf Gagdi have warned that the value of weapons seized by insurgents over time runs into trillions of naira—turning taxpayers into unwilling suppliers of terrorist arsenals.
Despite military reassurances that thousands of terrorists have been neutralised, frontline troops continue to operate under-resourced and under pressure, often facing insurgents equipped with drones and advanced technology.
The defence sector has been allocated a record ₦4.91 trillion in 2024—more than double last year’s budget—but without a radical shift in strategy and stronger international support, Nigeria risks spiraling further into insecurity and chaos.
The time for denial is over. The government must face the stark reality: unless it retools its military strategy and acknowledges the severity of the crisis, Nigeria may slip beyond the point of rescue.