Adamawa

The referee blew the whistle a few minutes before 5 p.m., on April 26, to kick off the second half of a football game. The players re-emerged on the field, and the spectators once again gathered to witness the second round of the Guyaku Local Championship Football League in the Sabon Gari area of Guyaku, a small community in the Gombi Local Government Area (LGA) of Adamawa State, northeastern Nigeria. 

Just minutes into the match, another sound pierced the air across the football pitch, but it wasn’t the referee’s whistle this time. It was sporadic gunshots that alerted the players and the spectators that something terrible was about to unfold.

The gunshots continued from different directions, their sound drawing closer. As the confused crowd tried to make sense of the situation, some armed men arrived at the football field on motorcycles. They opened fire on the crowd, and in that instant, people scrambled for safety, while others fell dead on the pitch. 

Within minutes, Istifanus Hassan, an eyewitness who narrowly survived the attack, said that everywhere was thrown into chaos as screams and smoke filled the air. 

“We ran into the bushes, but they [terrorists] followed people with their motorcycles and were shooting them in the bush,” he recalled. Although he survived, Istifanus said what he witnessed while hiding in a nearby bush that evening may haunt him forever. 

The terrorists burnt down houses, motorcycles, shops, and a church. They also looted at least three grocery shops and a chemist. “They used motorcycles to pack the items after killing the shop owners. They packed all the items and burnt the shops down,” he said, adding that they made away with medicines as well.

“I watched my community members and relatives fall dead to the ground. The men were targeted and shot in the head, and the women were spared,” Istifanus said.

But not every woman survived the attack. Other residents told HumAngle that all the women captured by the terrorists were left unharmed, but two women lost their lives in the incident. Their deaths were attributed to stray bullets. 

One of the deceased was 28-year-old Sintiki Dimas, who went to the football pitch to sell snacks to spectators. As a petty trader, Sintiki relied on selling local snacks like kuli-kuli to support herself and her younger siblings. 

Her mother, Bata Dimas, said Sintiki was killed while trying to flee, adding that her daughter’s trade was a great source of support to her eight younger siblings and the rest of the family. 

The other woman, who also lost her life in the attack, was fleeing with her toddler strapped to her back when a bullet hit and killed her. “The baby was also shot on his leg, but he’s currently receiving treatment,” an eyewitness, who asked not to be named, told HumAngle. 

The attack continued for hours. 

By the following day, the Islamic State West African Province (ISWAP), a Boko Haram breakaway, had claimed responsibility for the assault. The attack, which killed at least 33 residents and injured seven others, happened barely two months after ISWAP attacked a military base in Hong, a nearby local government area. 

Residents say it exposed longstanding security gaps in the border community, triggered fresh displacement, and revived fears of a return to the deadly years of insurgent violence that have devastated the region. 

The first attack in a decade 

It is not the first time terrorists have invaded Guyaku, but it is the first time since 2015, when the Boko Haram insurgency was at its peak in Adamawa. Then, “they burnt almost the entire village to the ground that year, but luckily, we all fled, and no one was harmed,” said Hamman Basmani, the Wakili (community leader) of Guyaku.

By 2016, most residents who had fled the area had returned and resumed their usual activities. 

Guyaku is an agrarian community, and residents – over a thousand of them, according to Hamman – mainly rely on farming for survival. Since the 2015 attack, he said, the residents had lived peacefully until the recent incident.

While other residents returned to Guyaku after the 2015 incident, Barnabas Benaiah was among those who did not. He relocated to Hong with his nuclear family, while his extended family remained in Guyaku. 

“I’m not currently staying in Guyaku, but I’m always there,” he said, meaning that he visits regularly. He added that he feels attached to his hometown, which is why he stayed in a neighbouring town. 

When ISWAP attacked Guyaku in April, Barnabas lost three family members. Two were his brothers, and the other was his niece. “They [his brothers] all had families and had left behind pregnant wives,” he told HumAngle. 

Barnabas noted that the attack in Guyaku was tactical. 

“They were after men,” he said, echoing testimonies from other residents. “Mostly young men, so they targeted spots where these men could be found, such as the football pitch, local joints, and front yards. They shot the men in the head, and when they encountered women, they told them to walk away because they had nothing to do with them. The women who died were hit by flying bullets.” 

A recent academic study on gendercide in the Lake Chad insurgency found that such patterns have appeared in previous ISWAP and Boko Haram attacks, where adult men are often perceived as potential fighters, vigilantes, informants, or collaborators with the state.

Residents say the terrorists pursued residents who ran towards neighbouring communities and killed them, while also looting valuables, such as motorcycles. “They went to a commercial charging store and packed all the phones from there. They were still looting shops when soldiers from Garkida town arrived, so they abandoned some of the items and ran,” Barnabas said. 

Tela Bala, Kwari, Kwana, and other communities within Guyaku were also affected. “[Several] people from these communities have now fled to urban centres,” he added. 

Istifanus remained in the bush until the gunshots ceased. He came out and joined other residents in recovering dead bodies. Most of the corpses were found at the football pitch, while some were recovered in front of houses and across the street. 

“The corpses I saw and counted that day were up to 28, but I couldn’t stay to continue identifying the bodies,” he recounted. “I became emotional and left.” 

Hamman, the community leader, told HumAngle that other bodies were recovered in the bushes and roads leading to other villages days afterwards. He said that 33 bodies were found; 30 of them were men, and most were young. 

Guyaku sits in Adamawa’s northwestern region. It is about 20 km from the border with Borno State and less than 15 kilometres from Kwapre, Banga, Larh, and Dabnz Kinging communities, each of which has been abandoned due to Boko Haram attacks over the years.

Guyaku, along with these border communities, falls within known terror hotspots, including forests like Alagarno and towns like Mandaragairu, where terrorists often operate and move through to attack surrounding hinterland communities along the southern Borno-Adamawa border.

In April, HumAngle reported how these abandoned agrarian communities fall within the direct line of influence of terror groups from major enclaves like Sambisa Forest and the other forests connecting local bushes in Adamawa State to those across the border in Borno, allowing them to remain geographically threatened by these groups.

Tale of terror 

For residents in these communities, nowhere is safe anymore. During the April 26 attack, 39-year-old Alheri Gabriel was sitting outside his house, playing cards with his friends, when the terrorists rode towards them on motorcycles. 

“At first, I was confused, and I thought they were trying to catch a thief because someone was running in front of them. I thought he was a thief, and had I tried to help them catch him, but I noticed they had guns,” Alheri recounted. 

Suddenly, the terrorists ordered him to come forward, but he hesitated, and when they pointed a gun at him, he immediately started running as fast as his legs could carry him. 

“While I was running, they shot me in the left shoulder, but I didn’t stop. I continued running, and they pursued me with their motorcycles, but I fled into a house and hid there until they lost track of me,” he told HumAngle. 

He remained hidden while blood continued to gush from his injured shoulder. When the shooting ceased, he staggered into the street and was assisted by other residents. Alheri was first rushed to a hospital in Gombi town, along with other injured people, before being transferred to the Modibbo Adama University Teaching Hospital in Yola, the Adamawa State capital, for further treatment. 

Later, he learnt the men he had been playing cards with were all shot and their bodies set ablaze by the terrorists in the front yard. 

He underwent surgery on May 1 and is still recovering, but he fears his life will never be the same. “I have a wife and young children. I’m a skilled photographer and a barber, and I don’t think I’ll be able to recover soon or resume work,” he said. 

With a family to feed, Alheri hopes to recover soon so he can return to his business. However, something has changed. “I don’t think I’ll return to Guyaku,” he said.

His wife and children have fled to another town, where they are living with relatives. 

Empty streets 

More than a week after the ISWAP attack, residents – especially women and children – have continued to flee Guyaku despite assurances from the Adamawa State government that security would be strengthened in the area and that justice would be served. 

“Only the men are left here, and we are not more than 20,” Hamman said, adding that residents are worried about the security gaps that exist in the area. 

During an assessment visit two days after the attack, Ahmadu Fintiri, the Governor of Adamawa State, said, “We are intensifying security operations immediately to restore peace and ensure every resident feels safe in their home again. We will rebuild, and we will remain resilient.”

Despite those assurances, residents say the security presence in the community has remained inadequate. Although a group of soldiers, local vigilantes, and hunters were stationed there in the early days after the attack, the military officers have since withdrawn. 

“The local security team goes round the community, but there is no security post or unit we can report to during emergencies,” Hamman said. 

For many residents, however, the absence of formal security is not new. Guyaku has long relied on the local vigilante group for security, but they are poorly equipped to repel major terror attacks. The nearest police stations are in Gombi and Garkida, about a 30- to 40-minute drive away.

The lingering insecurity has also disrupted efforts to bury some of the victims. Barnabas said some of the corpses are yet to be buried as their family members have since fled the area. “A mass burial was scheduled, but no agreement was reached, so individuals began burying their dead, and those whose relatives fled were paired with other victims,” he said. “At the cemetery, we got a call that the terrorists had just been spotted, and that was how the burial rites were abandoned. Everyone fled,” he stated. 

Hamman, who continues to lead the community during the crisis, said residents are pleading with the government to deploy more security personnel to the area.

“[They should] send soldiers to join hands with the vigilantes and protect us. If people see security personnel patrolling the area, they will want to come home. But if there are no security personnel, even if the people want to come back home, they will be discouraged.” 

ISIL (ISIS) has claimed responsibility for the attack on Guyaku village, which lasted several hours.

Armed attackers killed at least 29 people in Guyaku village in Nigeria’s Adamawa State, an attack that lasted several hours and left property destroyed, officials said.

“My heart breaks for the people of Guyaku,” state Governor Ahmadu Umaru Fintiri said in a post on social media as he visited the bereaved community on Monday.

“Today, I stood on the ground where our brothers and sisters were cruelly taken from us. This act of cowardice is an affront to our humanity and will not go unpunished,” he said.

Fintiri also said his administration would continue to support “military and vigilante groups” as it intensified security operations in response to the attack.

The ISIL (ISIS) group claimed responsibility for the attack in a post on the Telegram messaging app, according to the Reuters and Associate Press (AP) news agencies.

There are two major ISIL-backed armed groups in Nigeria, but it was not immediately clear which one was behind the attack, according to the AP.

The Guyaku attack occurred on the same day that armed attackers raided an orphanage in north-central Nigeria and abducted 23 children.

Fifteen were later rescued, and the government said “intensive operations” were under way to “secure the safe return of the remaining eight victims and apprehend the perpetrators”.

No group immediately claimed responsibility for the abductions in a region of the country that has seen an increase in kidnappings for ransom.

The statement did not say how old the abducted children are, but the term “pupil”, which the statement had used, in Nigeria usually refers to someone in kindergarten or primary school, covering ages up to 12.

US President Donald Trump and other US conservative voices have accused Nigerian authorities of failing to protect the nation’s Christians from a “Christian genocide“, amid violence from armed groups, including Boko Haram.

The Nigerian government has said that while it wants to do more to protect civilians from ISIL and al-Qaeda affiliated groups, people of all faiths have been killed in attacks, including Muslims and traditional worshippers.

Data from ACLED, a US crisis-monitoring group, found that, out of 1,923 attacks on civilians in Nigeria between January and November 2025, the number of those targeting Christians because of their religion stood at just 50.

US forces launched air strikes on ISIL-affiliated fighters in December, and then deployed 100 soldiers to northern Nigeria in February to train and advise local forces.

At the end of every farming season, farmers across Kwapre, an agrarian community in Hong Local Government Area (LGA) of Adamawa State in northeastern Nigeria, come together to mark an annual event. Known for their guinea corn farming, the men in Kwapre take turns harvesting each other’s farms. A date is fixed for each farmer, and the rest join him on the farm. While the men work, a set of drummers line up behind them, and the women scatter across the field, singing and dancing to the melody of the talking drum.

Harvest season here was always a farming festival that held the community together for generations. It was the celebration of a bountiful harvest, and after every farmer’s crop had been harvested, the whole community came together to drink and make merry. The festival, however, would later stop as insurgency and violence steadily eroded the safety and cohesion of the community.

Buba Baba, a farmer who used to live in Kwapre, remembers the festival with nostalgia. 

“We were living well. We had an abundant food supply, and our families were well taken care of,” he recounted. 

Everything changed in 2014. The insurgency in the region intensified. The Boko Haram terror group peaked and began spreading its influence across Borno State through sustained attacks and by asserting control over captured communities. From Bama in Borno to Sambisa Forest, the group pushed into hinterland settlements, imposing its rule in areas under its control while terrorising those beyond it.

This influence extended across border communities, cutting through the edges of Borno and spilling into northern Adamawa. Violence moved easily through these indistinguishable boundaries, reaching rural communities in Adamawa. Places like Kwapre, Shuwari, Kaya, and several localities across Madagali, Hong, and Michika LGAs fell within the terror group’s reach. Across these local governments, communities faced the threat of displacement from their land and the loss of their ancestral culture, a fate that soon reached Kwapre. 

That same year, terrorists invaded the community. The annual farming festival became inconsistent over the years and eventually stopped when the once-vibrant area was finally completely abandoned in 2025. 

The violence that broke ties 

Buba is among the over 200,000 persons who have been displaced by Boko Haram in Adamawa State, with most of them from Michika and Madagali local government areas.

He told HumAngle that Boko Haram first attacked his community in 2014, and residents fled the area. After a year, the locals returned, but the terrorists kept storming the area at intervals. Some left for good, while others, like Buba, stayed behind, clinging to their ancestral inheritance and hoping that the violence would end. 

“We go back when everything is calm and flee when the conflict starts again, but by 2025, we have all left, and there is currently no one in Kwapre,” Buba said. 

Boko Haram has been displacing residents in Adamawa since 2014. About 40 people were killed after the terrorists attacked seven villages in Michika and its environs in 2014. In 2016, the group invaded the Kuda Kaya village of Madagali LGA and killed 24 people during indiscriminate shooting. 

In 2019, Boko Haram struck again, but some of them were killed in Madagali after they tried to infiltrate a military camp. However, one soldier and a civilian were killed. In 2020, Kirchinga village in Madagali was attacked after the insurgents stormed the area. Houses were razed and shops looted, causing residents to flee. 

Other attacks were unreported. Data from the International Organisation for Migration (IOM) shows that a total of 665 individuals from 133 households were displaced from their communities in Madagali by a non-state armed group in June 2022. 

Chinapi Agara, a resident of Garaha, another community in Hong, told HumAngle that when the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP), a Boko Haram breakaway group, attacked a military base in the area in February, communities within Garaha had experienced a surge in kidnappings in the last few years, which had forced many to flee. 

“Lots of communities like Kwapre, Gabba, and Lar have been completely displaced,” he said. Chinapi’s relative died from a stray bullet during the attack. 

Shuwari in Kirchinga, under the Madagali LGA of Adamawa State, is one community that has been deserted following insurgents’ attacks in the area. Despite the recurring attacks in the last decade, locals stayed back, but in February, the entire village was deserted after Boko Haram stormed the area and opened fire on locals. HumAngle learned that 21 people were killed, including the Shuwari community leader. 

Bitrus Peter, a resident of Kirchinga, told HumAngle that this was not the first Boko Haram attack in the area. “Since we came back from displacement in 2015, we have been facing this challenge. Sometimes, they give a break of a year or two and then return,” he said.  

Gambo Stephen, a survivor of the February attack in Shuwari who has since fled the area, told HumAngle that residents have now been scattered across various places.

Back in Shuwari, Gambo owned a barbing salon that brought in a modest income to support his wife and four children. “I opened the shop immediately after I was done with my tertiary education, and for years, it helped me to provide for my family,” he noted. 

On February 24, when Boko Haram raided Shuwari, Gambo’s salon was burnt to the ground alongside other houses and properties in the area. “I narrowly escaped because five people who were running with me were all shot dead,” Gambo said. 

‘Geographically threatened’

These localities around Kirchinga are geographically at risk of cultural loss.

Kirchinga town itself is a border settlement between Adamawa and Borno states. It lies along the banks of a large river that sustains a livelihood built around fishing. Even with seasonal drying of the water, satellite imagery shows stretches of low-lying land between the levelled terrain,  supporting farming during the dry season.  

Beyond this, the area serves as a pathway between Borno and Adamawa, with a road tracing the river’s path and linking a chain of localities. Agricultural fields, water sources, and this road network connect these settlements across the local government area through markets and other primary commercial activities. 

The land around the settlement dwarfs it. The road sustains movement and exchange, but along that same path is the spread of insurgent influence.

Zooming out from Kirchinga through satellite imagery reveals the other settlements facing similar patterns of displacement and abandonment. To the north lies Bikiti. While its layout differs from Kirchinga, the parallels are clear in the vast cultivation fields surrounding the settlement. Alongside these are a mix of swampy wetlands and local streams, supporting a range of ecosystem services, from farming to aquatic life and small game. 

Beyond this lies a large stretch of uninhabited land, many times larger than the settlement itself, composed almost entirely of cultivated fields. Further out, this landscape opens into forested areas that connect toward Sambisa Forest, long associated with insurgent strongholds.

Though these places differ in their satellite layouts, their cultural identities are evident from above. Whether through farming, fishing, hunting or trade, the patterns on the land reflect the life of the people who lived there. These are the same patterns that begin to disappear as displacement takes hold.

Kuda Kaya, another such settlement, offers another case in point. Located northeast of Kirchinga, it has become known for both attacks and displacement. 

It is a small settlement, easy to miss at a wider satellite scale. Within its tight layout are key structures: a primary school, a health post, and an administrative building, surrounded by clusters of homes. The settlement itself is heavily vegetated, with tree cover rising to roof level. Beyond this, shorter grasslands spread into cultivated fields, intersected by small streams. While hunting may not be the dominant activity, the landscape supports tree crops and grain farming.

The intent behind settlement patterns becomes clear when looking at historical imagery, even as far back as 2004, available on Google Earth. The ancestral communities chose flat terrain near rivers or streams, or large forest areas, settling in compact clusters while using the surrounding land for food production.

At present, signs of abandonment are not always as obvious as in parts of Borno or Benue in the country’s North Central. Some of these communities endured repeated attacks, with residents returning each time. But over time, the strain of persistent insecurity led to wider displacement and, in most recent cases, total abandonment.

In a few years, many of these buildings will begin to collapse. Roofs will give way, and some structures will be burned, patterns already observed across abandoned communities affected by insurgency in Nigeria. What will also become visible is the absence of farming. Recent imagery already shows early signs of neglect across what were once actively cultivated lands. 

The same likely extends to the rivers. While satellite imagery cannot fully capture changes in aquatic life, the absence of regular human activity around these waters will affect both the ecosystem and the human systems tied to it, similar to what has been observed in parts of the Lake Chad region.

Zooming further out shows northern Adamawa marked by these border communities, many of which are now within displacement hotspots.

Today, many of their residents live in resettled communities and displacement camps still active across the region, some farther away, removed from the cultural heritage their ancestral lands once provided. They adapt to the host communities, the only available way for them. They can no longer point to land and trace ownership or inheritance. Even when they take up familiar activities like farming, fishing, or hunting, they remain outsiders for a time.

The geographic shift may not always be extreme, but the separation from their roots is. The connection is severed, even when practices are carried into new environments. For those displaced, especially across generations or into prolonged uncertainty, that break becomes harder to repair. It is reinforced by the trauma of the violence that forced them out.

Some still hold on to the hope of return. Others are already preparing to move on, regardless of what becomes of home.

Resettlement 

When the terrorists returned to Kwapre in 2025, Buba faced a near-death experience, and that was the last straw. He fled with his wife and five children alongside other community members when the village was being set ablaze. 

“I left home empty,” he stated, adding that his family didn’t flee with any belongings. 

Buba moved into Hong town, where he settled with his family. With each passing day, he remembered home, but he knew it would be unwise to return. It’s been about a year since Buba resettled in Hong town. He describes the last couple of months as hell. 

“We are suffering, and since I was born, I have never suffered like this,” he said. Buba is unsure of his exact age, but is estimated to be in his 50s. “We have to pay for house rent, and there is no money to do so. We are always pleading with the landlord. We are also managing food supply,”  he lamented. 

Back at Kwapre, Buba had his own house. As a full-time farmer, he said his harvest was always bountiful, and his family was always cared for, but now, they even struggle to feed themselves. He currently works as a labourer on a construction site. His task is to fill up trucks with sand and transport them, but the wage barely covers his family’s needs. Since he has been a farmer all his life, Buba acquired a plot of land in his new area so he could cultivate crops, keep some, and sell the rest to augment his income from his labouring job. 

“I cultivated last year, but it was destroyed by cattle, and I couldn’t get even a bag of maize during the harvest,” he said. 

While he considers himself lucky to be alive, Buba says life has taken a difficult turn. “I can’t even pay my children’s school fees. I registered them in a school here in Hong town but they have just been sent back home,” he said. 

After making it out of Shuwari, Gambo travelled to Yola, the capital of Adamawa State, and settled in an old secondary school in Saminaka, a neighbourhood in the city. 

“I didn’t leave with anything because they burnt everything, so someone gave me a student mattress to lie on,” he said. 

After taking shelter at the school, he was able to phone his wife, who had made it out safely with his four children. 

“They are currently staying with her relatives in Madagali town,” he said. 

Gambo feels his family is better off without him because he has nothing to offer them. 

“Thank God for relatives because they do buy things and give them, and also some friends. If I had left home with some of my valuables, I would have started a business, but I don’t have anything on me. They (Boko Haram) also burnt my farm produce, slaughtered all my cattle alongside others in the village,” he said. 

If the violence ever ceases and peace is permanently restored, Gambo said he would never return to Shuwari, for he had seen enough. 

“My friends died there, and it’s only God that protected me, especially my wife and children,” he said. 

Gambo told HumAngle that the community is completely deserted and that his main concern right now is raising capital to start a business at his new location in Saminaka. If things somehow get better, he would send for his family to join him. 

In 2025, HumAngle reported how many displaced persons from Adamawa are stuck in displacement camps for about a decade because their hometowns remain unsafe. 

Ghost towns

While he has not kept in touch with anyone from his community since he fled, Buba fears that the name ‘Kwapre’ will be erased from history, as the once-lively village now lies empty and silent. He wished things were different. He dreams of a time when the terrorists will stop invading the area, and his people will return and carry on with their regular lives. He looks forward to the annual harvest festival, but he believes his aspirations are not enough to hold water. 

“People from Kwapre have been scattered across different regions. It’s even difficult to keep in touch with close relatives,” Buba said. 

But if the violence ceases and peace is permanently restored, Buba said he will return home even if it means he will be the only one living there. At least, he’ll have his house, his large farmlands and grains filled in his store. His children won’t go hungry, and he won’t have to labour day and night. 

However, some questions linger in his mind: When will the violence end, and even if it does, will Kwapre be the same again?

According to Gambo, the fact that he misses Shuwari can’t be denied. It was the only home he had known all his life. “We used to celebrate together when we were in the village. We lived peacefully, but when the insurgency started, everything crumbled,” he said.

While he misses the community that has stood by him his whole life, Gambo has made up his mind: he is done with Shuwari.

“I won’t go back because the village is on the border of Sambisa Forest,” he said. 

Studies have shown that the Boko Haram insurgency in Adamawa, which targets communities near the Sambisa Forest, has caused several communities within the Northern Senatorial District of the state to vanish. Madagali, Michika and Hong local governments specifically have the highest number of abandoned communities as attacks continue to intensify. From 2023 to 2025, villages in Kwapre, Zah, Kinging, Mubang, and Dabna in the Hong local government, with a combined population of over 10,000, were said to have been massively displaced, with many residents fleeing to safer towns. 

Sini Peter, the youth leader of Kirchinga community in Madagali, told HumAngle that a lot of cultural festivals have stopped due to Boko Haram’s consistent attacks in the area. 

The Yawal festival, the most popular cultural event in the area, was held annually in the middle of the year and is no longer held. 

“A grass would be tied to a guinea corn stem, which is a year old, and we would go out early in the morning, around 3 a.m., to chant,” Sini recalls how the festival used to be held. 

The Yawal festival was so significant to the Kirchinga people that the ritual had to be completed before locals could carry out their daily activities. The chants were traditional songs believed to ward off death from the community and were sung every morning on the day of the festival. Locals were always eager to participate in the ritual and sing the song until terrorists started invading the area.

However, they no longer believe in the ritual’s efficacy or mark the festival, according to Sini. “Boko Haram attacks made death a normal thing to us today,” he said. 

According to the youth leader, the February attack on Shuwari, which had caused residents to flee the area completely, shows a broader displacement pattern across Madagali communities that have been affected in the area. 

“Villages like Imirsa, Madukufam, Balgi and Yafa, which are bordering Kirchinga, are empty due to the Boko Haram issues,” he said, adding that the terrorists have been looting properties like roofing sheets in some of these communities from time to time. 

While many have deserted these areas for good, including Kirchinga town, Sini is among those who stayed behind. “I know that wherever a Marghi man goes, he will remember home because he will not enjoy anywhere like home. Even with the killings, we don’t have anywhere like Kirchinga,” he stated. 

Speaking on the security situation in the area, he noted that the security architecture in Kirchinga is very poor. “What should be done is not done because fear is all over us, including the security personnel,” he said. 

When Ahmadu Fintiri, the governor of Adamawa State, visited the area following the attack in Shuwari, he vowed to secure the area, but Sini fears the promise will not translate into action. 

“There are people trained now; they are called Forest Guards, and when the attacks happen, they do not have arms, but after the governor left, they were given AK-47s, but when they want to go for duty, they have to go to Shuwa to get the arms and return them after duty,” Sini said. 

He explained that this strategy might not work, as the forest guards spend over ₦1,000 daily to obtain and return arms in Shuwa, as protocol demands. 

It’s been a month since people treaded the Shuwari path, and with the community now completely deserted, Gambo fears that his children might never know their ancestral homes or experience the cultural heritage that once united their people. 

What’s left of the ghost towns?

The analysis of satellite imagery from 2013 to 2025 across 14 communities in Adamawa State, using specialised satellite sensors (Landsat/Sentinel), shows environmental change linked to abandonment and displacement. When fields are left uncultivated, the land does not simply freeze in time. In some areas, weeds overtake cultivation, while in others, the soil and greenery collapse, leaving the land barren. 

In communities like Larh and Dabna, the data shows a steady increase in shrubs and bushes. In recent times, peak vegetation values in Larh have risen by nearly 12 per cent, as weeds are left unattended in places where farmlands used to be. 

The seasonal variation has also increased, indicating that the lands now support vegetation growth in response to rainfall rather than following a stable, cultivated rhythm. Mubang and Banga show similar trends, with significant growth in peak farmland weed growth over the same period. The land is reclaiming itself in a chaotic, unregulated way, with invasive, fast-growing plants dominating.

On the other hand, several communities tell a different story. Kirchinga and Kopa have experienced dramatic declines in greenness, with vegetation dropping by 27 per cent and 23 per cent, respectively. These are areas where abandonment appears to have compounded other pressures, such as erosion, burning, or neglect, leaving the soil exposed and vulnerable. 

Shuwari and Yaza have also lost nearly one-fifth of their peak greenness over the same period. Unlike Larh or Dabna, these communities are not witnessing vigorous shrub growth. Instead, the land shows signs of degradation, with both peak greenness and seasonal variability shrinking, suggesting that vegetation’s capacity to recover is weakening. 

This has long-term implications for returnees. The data highlights a dual response to abandonment. In some areas, the absence of farming has allowed nature to fill the gaps, though not always in ways that benefit local livelihoods. In others, the land deteriorates quickly once cultivation stops, leaving behind increasingly unproductive expanses. 

These two observed outcomes will shape the future of the homes should locals return.