Markaz: The centre of an emerging extremist movement
Manzir Lawan was barely 14 when his parents enrolled him in Mohammed Yusuf’s Islamic school in 2007. They intended for their child to acquire Islamic knowledge. However, a twist of fate altered the course of young Manzir’s journey at Markaz in Maiduguri, northeastern Nigeria.
Markaz was an Islamic education centre founded and led by the late Mohammed Yusuf, the founder of Boko Haram, an extremist group that later became infamous for its violent insurgency. Similar to Manzir, members and associates of Markaz in Maiduguri were easily identifiable by their attire: they predominantly wore white jallabiyas (gowns), used chewing sticks, donned white caps, and covered their heads with mufflers, adhering strictly to Islamic traditions.
Manzir recalled that Yusuf held preaching sessions twice daily, promoting what he considered invaluable and positive teachings. However, these teachings were deeply corrosive, as they primarily criticised liberal Islamic teachings, Western values, and their institutions.
“At that time, we attended all the sessions,” Manzir told HumAngle. “During the preaching, they started teaching that following Western education was prohibited, and they began to discourage practices they deemed inappropriate.”
In his early days at Markaz, Manzir found fulfillment, aspiring to become an Islamic teacher. He spent extra time selling dates and other items like miswak (chewing sticks) to support himself. However, as time passed, circumstances began to shift, and an air of uncertainty enveloped his world.
“The government eventually stepped in, wondering how Yusuf could spread beliefs that were so at odds with democracy and civilisation,” he recounted. “As tensions between the government and Yusuf escalated, the latter urged Abubakar Shekau—his more radical associate—to be patient, warning there was a time for everything. However, Shekau was resolute in his intention to intensify the situation.”
What followed was a full-scale conflict between Yusuf and Nigerian state forces. Eventually, Yusuf was captured and killed by security forces in 2009. In response, the Nigerian government proscribed his movement and declared it a terrorist organisation, marking the beginning of a prolonged military confrontation.
The Hijrah and the formation of Boko Haram’s stronghold
After Yusuf’s death, a large number of his followers fled, considering their departure as a Hijrah—a holy migration—to Yobe State and other locations. Shekau and several of the group’s senior leaders regrouped in the forests of Borno, near Yobe State, establishing a base they named Timbuktu. Manzir accompanied Shekau in this migration, according to him.
The journey into insurgency
Manzir told HumAngle that he was only a teenager when he was first exposed to the ideology that would consume his life. At 16, he and other young recruits underwent three months of rigorous training.
“Afterwards, they started bringing us rifles—AK-47, AK-49, PKT, LMG, and AA—to operate. Eventually, we kept them for personal use and operations,” he explained. After completing his training, Manzir was enlisted into rajal (full-time military duties) as a teenager and was drafted as a military gunner—a fighter assigned to a soldier’s vehicle to operate mounted weapons, such as anti-aircraft guns.
“By rank, I was among the lowest, with our head commanding 15 of us in our unit. We went on attacks on local communities, ambushed military convoys, attacked barracks, and spread our teachings in any community we encountered,” he said.
As the insurgency grew, Manzir witnessed firsthand the ideological disagreements that led to a major split between factions loyal to Shekau and those siding with the Mamman Nur/Abu Musab-led Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP).
Frictions within the insurgency
Internal leadership struggles within the Lake Chad terrorist groups were fueled by ideological differences, power rivalries, and disputes over resources. One key figure, Bitri, was accused of confiscating property, though many believed the allegations were politically motivated by rivals within ISWAP’s faction. After being imprisoned for months without evidence, Bitri disappeared, deepening internal rifts.
Later, reports indicated that Bitri had fled to northwestern Nigeria. Upon his return to Lake Chad, he was reportedly executed for the crime of defecting in the first place.
Meanwhile, another commander, Bakura, rejected ISWAP’s ideology and reverted his loyalty to Shekau’s faction, taking followers with him—including Manzir, a former Boko Haram turned ISWAP member. Bakura’s refusal to align with ISWAP while still recognising the doctrines of the late Shekau contributed to ISWAP’s weakening at the time.
Amid these persistent internal conflicts, Manzir grew disillusioned, realising that commanders stayed behind while fighters bore the brunt of the relentless war.
The quest to leave
Manzir’s turning point came in 2022 when he met fishermen who travelled between their hideouts and Maiduguri. Desperate for a way out, he saw them as a link to the outside world.
“I was tired of all the drama. We were just killing ourselves,” he admitted. “I asked them about the road and what happens if someone surrenders. They told me that those who surrendered were well received—the government took responsibility for them, gave them jobs, and helped them start over.”
Encouraged by their words, Manzir confided in five of his most trusted men. “I would rather die in Nigeria than die here,” he said. His friends agreed.
That night, they set their plan in motion. With his three wives and children prepared, Manzir arranged with a canoe operator who charged ₦30,000 to transport them from Tumbun Barebari in the Lake Chad basin. They carried weapons: eight guns, two radios, and four grenades.
At around 4 a.m., they arrived at Kwata, a fishing dam in Baga, where they settled under mosquito nets, waiting for dawn.
The surrender
As the sun rose, they reached out to soldiers stationed nearby. A member of the Civilian Joint Task Force (JTF) approached them for questioning, but Manzir insisted that only the military should handle their surrender. Soon, naval officers arrived by boat, surrounding them.
Before the soldiers could search them, Manzir took the initiative—he gathered their weapons, covered them with a rag, and pointed to their location when the commander asked.
“The commander was surprised. He asked where we got such weapons. I told him that I just picked them from the armoury, but I didn’t know how they got there,” Manzir said.
After being received by the soldiers, they were blindfolded and transported to a military barracks for screening, questioning, and documentation. The following day, they were taken to Maiduguri and handed over to “General Ishak” at the Hajj Camp Rehabilitation Centre along the Maiduguri-Damaturu road.
As part of their reintegration, they each received ₦3,000 as a welcome gift. Those who surrendered weapons were given additional cash under Operation Safe Corridor’s incentive program.
“I was given ₦150,000 for surrendering my eight rifles, two radios, and cartridges,” Manzir said. “They told us the government was happy to see us.”
A new kind of warfare
For some, like Manzir, surrendering did not mean transitioning into civilian life but rather a new form of militarisation. Many former fighters were repurposed into military-backed operations against their former comrades, deployed on dangerous missions with minimal training and uncertain futures.
During his time at the rehabilitation centre, Manzir was selected for a special military-backed unit composed of surrendered Boko Haram members. He was later deployed to volatile areas, including Mallam Fatori.
The account of several Boko Haram defectors collaborating with the Nigerian military in northeast and northwest Nigeria will be detailed by HumAngle at a later date.
A hostile environment
Despite surrendering, many former Boko Haram members struggle with reintegration. The communities they once terrorised reject them, treating them with hostility and suspicion.
In Monguno and nearby areas like Dikwa, Mafa, Damboa, and Bama, at least four former insurgents have been killed by locals in the past eight months, while two others sustained severe injuries.
As tensions rose, authorities relocated former fighters to Maiduguri for rehabilitation under Nigeria’s Operation Safe Corridor and the Borno Model. While over 120,000 insurgents have reportedly surrendered, critics question the program’s effectiveness, especially concerning the ratio of surrendered combatants to recovered weapons.
Without clear pathways for reintegration, sustainable livelihoods, or genuine societal acceptance, many former fighters remain trapped—neither fully reintegrated nor entirely free, lingering in the shadows of the war they once fought.
*The name “Manzir” is a pseudonym used to protect the source’s identity.