The first terror attack Falmata Ibrahim witnessed was in 2015; ten years later, the painful event still haunts her. Rain poured heavily that day in her town, Yawuri, Borno State, northeastern Nigeria. The community has now been abandoned due to the insurgency in the region.

It was during that heavy downpour that Falmata and other survivors found refuge in a school in Dalori, which served as their camp for several weeks. Hunger and suffering became their constant companions during this time. Some survivors barely escaped with serious injuries. 

The psychological implications of the insurgency leave behind trauma, which is less documented, impacting the cognitive, emotional, and social health of victims, causing anger, helplessness, intrusive thoughts, denial, social withdrawal, impaired memory, and so much more.

“Many of our friends and relatives lost their lives, but we managed to escape with our children,” she said.  Things seemed to have settled after a while, making the survivors return, but not long after, the terrorists attacked again, the second of many more to come. Falmata could remember some of the sick and injured running with them, leaving behind empty beds and intravenous fluids dripping as people abandoned them to escape. 

Miles away in the northwestern region, Umar Aliyu and many other people’s lives were also drastically changing due to rural terrorism. Before he was displaced to Kajuru town from Boda, in the same Local Government Area, Kaduna, he lived simply as a farmer and herder. The first attack he witnessed was in 2018, when a reprisal attack from the alleged Kadaru tribe reached his village.

Reprisal attacks fueled by ethnic and religious tensions are not uncommon in Southern Kaduna, leading to killings, kidnappings and the burning of religious places and houses. In 2021, Armed Conflict Location and Event Data (ACLED) reported 188 security incidents in Kaduna State, resulting in an estimated 500 deaths. 

“They came and burned down the houses. Thankfully, during that attack, no one was killed before the military intervened. Sometimes this happens; when others hear about attacks on their tribesmen by herders, they just take matters into their own hands, attacking whatever Fulani community they come across,” Umar recalled. He was returning from his parents’ house for his daily greeting routine when the attackers struck. 

They escaped, but the attack that forced them out of their home was one of the frequent terrorist assaults and instances of cattle rustling that followed the reprisal assault. During that time, the village experienced significant loss and destruction of property. With the incessant kidnappings, almost all families were left gathering ransoms to free their abducted loved ones, which strained their financial situations and mental well-being. The relentless attacks also left the villagers perpetually anxious. 

Kidnapping produces short-term and long-term effects not only on individuals but also on families and societies in general. People usually need a lot of time to heal from the trauma caused by this heinous act, leaving behind mental and psychological scars that affect many aspects of their lives. 

“A cousin of mine was also kidnapped; he was held in captivity for over a month, before he was released after the family was forced to raise a million naira,”  Umar recounted. Even before he lost the rest of his cattle to the rustling, the weight of paying ransom for kidnapped family members had caused him and many people around to sell their cattle. 

Tears and hunger

“We came to Dalori Quarters, thinking we had finally found peace, but they attacked us at the settlement, killing many of our children and husbands,” Falmata recalled.  Over ten lives were lost in that attack. This, coupled with the hunger and lack of help from the government, made their struggles even harder. The quarters, which currently serve as a settlement for the internally displaced people, are a piece of land where the people set up their houses using scraps of wood and plastic bags. 

“We need to farm to survive, but the terrorists don’t even let us do that. My husband went to get some wood in the forest, so we could feed our family, but he was unfortunately killed in 2023,” she said, recounting how she was left to care for their seven children and another child she adopted after his family were killed in the insurgency. 

Despite the security issues in Nigeria, many traumatised people are left untreated. Falmata and Umar,  like many others, have never received any psychological help despite what they had to go through. Even now, most of the internally displaced cannot wander too far into the woods, due to the huge risk of running into the terrorists. Before this, Falmata lived as a farmer alongside her husband; they also reared a few animals to supplement their income, but now, she barely gets enough to feed her family. 

“The women used to also sell vegetables on the side, but it is no longer possible. Now, my children have to find wood we can sell so we can have something to eat,” Falamata narrated to HumAngle. Three of her older children are responsible for this task, and depending on what they can get, they earn up to ₦250 per bundle. When the money comes in, it goes directly to food. A bowl of grains can cost about ₦700. Sometimes, the family can splurge on a few cups of rice or cassava flour. 

The Boko Haram insurgency has drastically impacted the lives of many women, forcing them into new roles. Women form the majority of internally displaced persons in the country, with an estimated 1.8 million in the northeast alone. This forceful separation from breadwinners, such as sons and husbands, had forced many women to take up the role alone. 

“During this fasting period, we can only eat when breaking our fast, and on regular days, we usually only get to eat lunch. There was a time when, after we cooked, the terrorists would attack and take away our food and belongings, but now, this has reduced greatly. They no longer come to attack us directly, but they don’t allow us to earn a proper living,” the 43-year-old lamented.

Sometimes, the military intervenes in the middle of an attack. Now, there are military personnel posted close to their settlement, and sometimes, they give them warnings when they have information about a possible attack. These warnings further push them into more anxiety, affecting their sleep and daily activities.

In an attempt to also tighten their security, they have vigilantes who patrol every night to prevent the terrorists from attacking the settlement. “Our biggest issue now is hunger, especially the way it affects our children. We don’t even have enough to start a business,” Falmata said; her voice was laden with frustration. 

By the time Umar left Boda five years ago, he had nothing to his name. “I used to have a bike, a few cattle and as a farmer, I used to plant maize, peppers and grains,” Umar told HumAngle. He could get about 20 sacks of some of the grains, selling most of them at Kasuwan Magani to feed his family.

The attack that forced his family to move came in the middle of the night. Unaware of the possibility that it would be the last night he spent in his home, he was outside around 10 p.m. with some of his neighbours when the terrorists attacked the village; fear and panic punctuated the end of their conversations.

 “It was after this attack that I realised no matter how much I loved my village, I could no longer stay there,” Umar added.

 It would be after the attack that he would learn that some of his family members met the terrorists on their way back from Kajuru that evening, where the assailants stopped their car and took all their valuables, forcing them to go back to Kajuru, and that was the last time some of them ever returned to Boda. 

Now, Umar tries to provide for his family by farming on the piece of land he inherited in Kasuwan Magani. “We struggle to get fertilisers due to how expensive they are. I used to be able to take care of my family comfortably, but now, I usually find myself begging for help from others,” he told HumAngle.

This leaves Umar feeling dejected, especially during the Muslim fasting period. The lack of financial security is his biggest concern.  A sack of subsidised fertiliser used to cost ₦3,000 a few years back, but now a bag goes for ₦50,000. This leads to little farm output, which is barely enough to feed his family. 

The 52-year-old father of six lives with his family in a rented house for ₦10,000 per annum, but this low rate was only possible as a result of his father’s relationship with the landlord.  

This change is affecting Umar’s family due to financial constraints. His wife and other women in the village were forced to start hawking milk and yoghurt, but even that didn’t last when the decline in the supply of milk spread across southern Kaduna as a result of the insecurity. 

“Many people lost their cattle to the terrorists. You rarely see people here now with a lot of cows.” Umar explained.  Some people, like Umar’s brother, have returned to Boda because they couldn’t adjust to the standard of living in the town, despite the continuous attacks on their village. However, the kidnapping rate has dropped recently. 

Umar is not sure if he will return, but he is also worried about how he will continue to support his family in his current situation. “I believe that there is nothing I can do about this situation and what was done to me because the military tried fighting these terrorists and lost. I don’t think there is anything they or the government could have done,”  he complained.

He has lost his hope for justice, despite facing hardship after terrorists ravaged his home. Many displaced people, like Umar, have had to give up on justice, leaving the situation in God’s hands. The Terrorism (Prevention and Prohibition) Act 2022 highlighted what constitutes terrorism – acts such as kidnapping, actions against governments or international organisations, grievous bodily harm, and destruction of public facilities fall under this category. 

The Act also designates the Attorney General of the Federation as both the prosecuting authority and agency, leaving out the details on trial and prosecution. The Federal High Court has exclusive jurisdiction to try such offences. The lack of adequate political will and inadequate manpower, as well as the lack of awareness for victims, make it harder for them to seek justice through the legal system. 

Falmata has never considered that she could get justice for all that was done to her; she is more concerned about survival and peace. “What can we do, apart from leaving them with God? If they repent and join us, I will live with them happily if it means this will end. And if they don’t, there is nothing I can do. They are suffering in the bush, and they are making us suffer here. If I have a choice, I will choose for all of us to live in peace and forgiveness,” she said.

Falmata’s approach to justice fits into the concept of restorative justice.  Studies show that understanding and addressing motivations for grievances and taking preventive steps to prevent future atrocities is one way to provide justice to victims. Restorative justice, which was introduced to criminal justice literature in the 1970s, has roots that go as far back as Roman and Greek civilisations. It is considered to be a long-term tool in preventing conflict. 

Falmata’s dream is to feed and educate her children so they can have a better life. There is a primary school in the quarters, but many parents cannot afford to pay the ₦200 required for the PTA. Falmata’s children have been out of school for a few weeks now. If she sacrifices the money for their feeding to ensure their education, it means that her children will starve. 

“If children don’t eat, they can’t focus in school. I wish I could give them a better life, so we can all have a better chance. But it is too difficult,” she said. The last support Falmata got was when a bag of rice was shared among at least 5 families, barely making an impact. 

An NGO used to provide food for breastfeeding mothers and young children, but they unfortunately had to fold about a year ago. They promised to return, but they have not. “The poor children who were fed are now back to square one. Even those that made progress with the donations are now emaciated.”

Falmata’s youngest is now seven years old, and hopes that things ease up so that they will all have a better chance at life.  

Umar never considered the possibility of getting justice because he is more concerned about trying to adjust to his new reality. He just hopes that things ease for him and his family. “I am just hoping that the government can help us. I have heard that some of the terrorists are repenting and some are even working with the authorities now, I hope this eases things for us, so that we can return to our families and live in peace,” he noted, with a conviction that the repentance of the terrorist is a step towards a better and peaceful society. 

Studies show that the best way to get justice for people impacted by the insurgency is to invest more in comprehensive discussion about reintegration, rehabilitation and victim rights and also rebuild relationships between offenders and victims with the help of their respective communities. With victims like Falmata and Umar being open to the concept of reconciliation, this seems to be the most helpful way to help people like them move on from the violence. 

With the belief that all that happened in his life is only a passing test, Umar hopes that his patience and faith will help him scale through.