Armed Groups

The Syrian army is locked in intense fighting in Aleppo after SDF fighters refused to withdraw under a ceasefire.

Malam Fatori, Nigeria — It’s been more than 10 years since Isa Aji Mohammed lost four of his children in one night when Boko Haram fighters attacked their home in northeast Nigeria’s Borno State.

Maryam, who was 15 at the time, was killed alongside her brothers Mohammed, 22, and Zubairu, who was only 10. Yadoma, 25 and married with children, who had returned home to her parents’ house for a visit, also died in the attack.

“We ran with nothing,” said 65-year-old Isa, standing on the parched soil of his farm in the Lake Chad village of Malam Fatori, to which he recently returned. “For more than 10 years, we slept in relatives’ homes. I felt like a stranger in my own country.”

Before the deadly attack, Isa, a farmer, produced hundreds of bags of rice, maize and beans annually, enough to feed his family and sell in markets in neighbouring Niger.

After that night, he fled and spent the next decade in displacement camps across the border.

But last year, he joined thousands of other former residents who have relocated back to Malam Fatori and other towns as part of a resettlement programme initiated by the government.

The village sits on the edge of Nigeria’s northeastern frontier, close to the border with Niger, where the vast, flat landscape stretches into open farmland and seasonal wetlands.

A decade ago, homes there were intact and full, their courtyards echoing with children’s voices and the steady rhythm of daily life. Farms extended well beyond the town’s outskirts, producing grains and vegetables that sustained families and supported local trade.

Irrigation canals flowed regularly, and the surrounding area was known for its productivity, especially during the dry season. Markets were active, and movement between Malam Fatori and neighbouring communities was normal, not restricted by fear.

Today, the town carries the visible scars of conflict and neglect, with much of it lying in ruin.

Rows of mud-brick houses stand roofless or partially collapsed, their walls cracked by years of abandonment. Some homes have been hastily repaired with scrap wood and sheets of metal, signs of families slowly returning and rebuilding with whatever materials they can find.

The farms surrounding Malam Fatori are beginning to show faint signs of life again. Small plots of millet and sorghum are being cleared by hand, while irrigation channels – once choked with sand and weeds – are gradually being reopened.

Many fields, however, remain empty, overtaken by thorny bushes and dry grass after years without cultivation. Farmers move cautiously, working close to the town, wary of venturing too far into land that was once fertile but has long been unsafe.

For returnees like Isa, walking through these spaces means navigating both the present reality and memories of what once was. Each broken wall and abandoned field tells a story of loss, while every newly planted seed signals a quiet determination to restore a town that violence nearly erased.

Between ‘two pressures’: Boko Haram and the army

For the Borno State administration, the returns are a success. “There are 5,000 households of returnees in Malam Fatori, while the town’s total population now exceeds 20,000 people,” Usman Tar, Borno State commissioner for information and internal security, told Al Jazeera last year.

As we toured the town, the security presence was visible. Armed patrols, checkpoints and observation posts were stationed along major routes and near public spaces, reflecting ongoing efforts to deter attacks and reassure residents.

Families interviewed said they were subjected to frequent security checks and strict movement controls, measures they understand as necessary but which also disrupt daily routines and limit access to farms, markets and neighbouring communities.

Residents and local officials say the threat remains close. Fighters from Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP), another armed group active in the area, are believed to be operating from swampy areas approximately two kilometres from the town, using the difficult terrain as cover.

Although the town itself is under heavy military protection, surrounding areas continue to experience attacks, kidnappings and harassment, particularly along farming routes and access roads.

These persistent security incidents reinforce a climate of fear and uncertainty among returnees. While many families have chosen to remain and rebuild despite the risks, they say the proximity of armed groups and the ongoing violence in nearby communities make long-term recovery fragile.

“Here in Malam Fatori, we live under two pressures,” said resident Babagana Yarima. “Boko Haram dictates our safety, and the military dictates our movement. Both limit how we live every day.”

Farmers wait up to eight hours at military checkpoints when transporting produce. Curfews prevent evening farm work. Access to agricultural land beyond the town requires military permits or armed escorts.

“Insecurity and military restrictions limit access to farmlands, forcing farmers to cultivate smaller areas than before,” said Bashir Yunus, an agrarian expert at the University of Maiduguri who also farms in the region.

Fishing, previously a major food source and income generator from Lake Chad, has become dangerous and requires permits to leave the town boundaries.

“Movement beyond the town’s boundaries now requires military permits. Militant attacks in isolated areas continue,” said Issoufou.

The United Nations has raised concerns about the government’s resettlement programme, citing potential protection violations. Mohamed Malick, UN resident and humanitarian coordinator in Nigeria, said during an interview with journalists in Maiduguri that “any returns or relocations must be informed, voluntary, safe, dignified and sustainable”.

Malick added that the return of refugees to Malam Fatori and other insecure areas must be carefully evaluated against established safety and humanitarian standards, and must only take place if conditions allow for basic services and sustainable livelihoods.

‘A man without land is a man without life’

Settled back on his land, Isa wakes before dawn each day, leaving his home in the quiet hours before the town stirs.

He walks to the fields that once yielded fertile harvests, now choked with weeds and debris. The land that once fed his family and supported their livelihood now demands relentless effort just to coax a small crop from the exhausted soil.

‎With each turn of the hoe and careful planting of seeds, he is determined to reclaim a fragment of the life that was disrupted by conflict.

‎He also participates in community farming initiatives, joining neighbours in collective efforts to restore agricultural production for the returning population and aid the town’s slow recovery.

‎However, the area he personally cultivates is far smaller than what he once managed, constrained by limited access to tools, seeds and water, as well as by the lingering insecurity in the region.

‎”A man without land is a man without life,” he said.

‎‎Most families in Malam Fatori now eat only twice a day, a sharp contrast to life before the conflict. ‎Their meals typically consist of rice or millet, often eaten with little or no vegetables due to cost and limited availability. ‎

Food prices have risen dramatically, placing further strain on households already struggling to recover. ‎A kilogramme of rice now sells for about 1,200 naira (approximately $0.83), nearly double its previous price, making even basic staples increasingly unaffordable for many families.

‎Fish, once plentiful and affordable thanks to proximity to Lake Chad, have become scarce and expensive. Insecurity, restricted access to fishing areas, and disrupted supply chains have severely reduced local catches.

‎At the local market and at aid distribution points, women queue before dawn, hoping to secure small quantities of dried fish, groundnut oil or maize flour when supplies arrive.

‎Deliveries are irregular and unpredictable, often selling out within hours. Many women say they return home empty-handed after waiting for hours, compounding daily stress and uncertainty about how to feed their families.

‎Local health workers warn that malnutrition remains a serious concern, particularly among children under the age of five.

Basic services remain inadequate across town. Roads are poor, and schools and health clinics operate with minimal resources.

“Security risks and inaccessible routes through surrounding bushland continue to restrict humanitarian access, preventing aid agencies from reaching several communities. Basic services such as clean water, healthcare and quality education remain inadequate,” Kaka Ali, deputy director of local government primary healthcare, told Al Jazeera.

Despite ongoing challenges, residents of Malam Fatori are steadily working to rebuild their community and restore livelihoods disrupted by years of conflict.

‎Across the town, women have organised themselves into small cooperatives, producing handmade mats and processing groundnut oil for household use and local sale.

‎Fishermen, once central to the local economy, now operate cautiously in small groups in line with security regulations. Along riverbanks and storage areas, they repair damaged canoes and carefully mend fishing nets that were abandoned or destroyed during the conflict.

‎At the same time, teams of bricklayers are reconstructing homes destroyed during the violence, using locally sourced materials and shared labour to rebuild shelters for returning families.

The town’s clinic, staffed by six nurses, is overstretched. Vaccinations, malaria treatment and maternal health services are rationed. Power outages and equipment shortages compound the challenges. But it is a lifeline.

At Malam Fatori Central Primary School, children from the town and surrounding communities are being taught with the few resources available.

There are only 10 functional classrooms for hundreds of pupils, so some learn outdoors, under trees or in open spaces. There is a shortage of teachers, so some educators brave the conditions and travel long distances from the southern parts of Borno State.

In another, more unusual arrangement, soldiers stationed in the town occasionally step in to teach basic civic education and history lessons.

While not a replacement for trained teachers, community leaders say their involvement provides pupils with some continuity in education. The presence of soldiers in classrooms, they say, also reassures parents about security and underscores a shared effort to stabilise the town and rebuild essential services.

‘This land contains our future’

‎Amid all of the returning and rebuilding, security remains a dominant feature of daily life in Malam Fatori.

‎Soldiers remain stationed throughout the town, at markets and other public spaces to deter attacks.

Meanwhile, former Boko Haram members who have enrolled in a government-led deradicalisation and repentance programme also assist in protecting farmers working on the outskirts of the town, helping to rebuild trust between civilians and security structures.

Abu Fatima is a former Boko Haram fighter who joined the repentance programme. ‎“Troop patrols are constant, curfews dictate daily life,” he said about the security arrangements in Malam Fatori.

Although residents welcome the security provided by the soldiers’ presence in the town, “many say they feel trapped – unable to fully rebuild the lives they had before Boko Haram, yet unwilling to abandon a homeland that defines them”, he said, echoing the tension felt by many returnees.

‎Bulama Shettima has also lived through the personal cost of the fighting that has devastated northeast Nigeria. Two of the 60-year-old’s sons joined ISWAP, a tragedy that left the family with deep emotional scars. After years of uncertainty and fear, one of his sons was later deradicalised through a government rehabilitation programme. This has allowed his family to heal and reconcile. Coming back to Malam Fatori is also part of that.

“Returning wasn’t about safety,” he said. “It was about belonging. This land contains our history. This land contains our grief. This land contains our future.”

‎Today, Bulama is focused on rebuilding his life and securing a different future for his children.

‎He works as a farmer, cultivating small plots of land under difficult conditions, while also running a modest business to supplement his income. ‎

‎Despite his losses, Bulama places strong emphasis on educating his other children, saying that their schooling is a form of resistance against the cycle of violence that once tore his family apart. It will also allow them to grow up with choices, he says.

As many displaced families remain in Niger or live in limbo in Maiduguri, fearing a return to towns where armed men operate not far away, those now in Malam Fatori consider it a move worth making.

For Isa, the decision to return represents a calculated risk.

“We are caught between fear and order,” he said. “But still, we must live. Still, we must plant. Still, we must hope.”

This piece was published in collaboration with Egab.

The forum, which comes after government forces retook two governorates, could help end the conflict with separatists.

Yemeni government troops backed by Saudi Arabia have completed the handover of all military sites in Hadramout and al-Mahra governorates, which they successfully reclaimed from the United Arab Emirates-backed secessionist Southern Transitional Council (STC) in recent days, according to Yemeni media.

A delegation led by STC leader, Aidarous al-Zubaidi, was meanwhile expected to travel to Saudi Arabia for a peace forum, the Reuters news agency reported – a potential sign of progress towards ending the conflict that has rocked war-torn Yemen and spiked tensions between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi.

Over the last two days, STC troops have withdrawn from the city of Mukalla, the key eastern port and capital of Hadramout, which Saudi Arabia bombed last week in a limited coalition operation targeting cargo and weapons.

Civilian life has started to return to normal, local sources told Al Jazeera Arabic. Shops have opened their doors, while traffic has gradually picked up again in city streets.

The fractured country has seen soaring tensions since early December, when STC forces took over Hadramout and al-Mahra. The two provinces make up nearly half of Yemen’s territory and share a border with Saudi Arabia.

Last week’s new round of fighting saw Yemen’s Saudi-backed Homeland Shield forces achieve “record success” in clawing back “all military and security positions”, said Rashad al-Alimi, head of the internationally recognised government’s Presidential Leadership Council (PLC).

By Friday, the Yemeni government said it had asked Saudi Arabia to host talks with separatists. The STC welcomed the offer, though the timing and details of the talks remain unclear.

Renewed tensions

At least 80 STC fighters had been killed as of Sunday, according to an STC official, while another 152 were wounded and 130 were taken captive.

Skirmishes broke out two days earlier in Hadramout after the STC accused Saudi Arabia of bombing its forces near the border, killing seven people and wounding 20.

An STC military official separately told the AFP news agency that Saudi warplanes had carried out “intense” air raids on one of the group’s camps at Barshid, west of Mukalla.

As fighting was under way, the STC announced the start of a two-year transitional period towards declaring an independent state, warning it would declare independence “immediately” if there was no dialogue or if southern Yemen again came under attack.

The Yemeni government defended the military actions, with Hadramout Governor Salem al-Khanbashi saying efforts to take back bases from the STC were “not a declaration of war” but meant to “peacefully and systematically” reclaim the sites.

The government also accused the separatists of preventing civilian travellers from entering Aden and called the STC’s restrictions on movement “a grave violation of the constitution and a breach of the Riyadh Agreement”, which was intended as a peace deal between separatists and the government.

Outside Yemen, the crisis has continued to upset relations between the UAE and Saudi Arabia.

Riyadh, Abu Dhabi and the STC are part of a decade-old military coalition that Riyadh convened to confront the Houthis, who continue to control parts of northern Yemen and Sanaa, the capital.

But the STC’s increasingly separatist approach – along with tit-for-tat accusations of Riyadh and Abu Dhabi-backed escalations – have stoked tensions among the trio.

Late on Friday, Abu Dhabi said all Emirati forces would withdraw from Yemen. Riyadh officially called for a peace forum early Saturday.

“Bienvenue a Bamako!” The fixer, the minder and the men linked to the Malian government were waiting for us at the airport in Bamako. Polite, smiling – and watchful.

It was late December, and we had just taken an Air Burkina flight from Dakar, Senegal across the Sahel, where a storm of political upheaval and armed violence has unsettled the region in recent years.

Mali sits at the centre of a reckoning. After two military coups in 2020 and 2021, the country severed ties with its former colonial ruler, France, expelled French forces, pushed out the United Nations peacekeeping mission, and redrew its alliances

Alongside Burkina Faso and Niger, now also ruled by military governments backed by Russian mercenaries, it formed the Alliance of Sahel States (AES) in September 2023. Together, the regional grouping withdrew from the wider Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) bloc, accusing it of serving foreign interests rather than African ones.

This month, leaders from the three countries converged in Bamako for the Confederal Summit of Heads of State of the AES, the second such meeting since the alliance was formed. And we were there to cover it.

The summit was a ribbon-cutting moment. Leaders of the three countries inaugurated a new Sahel Investment and Development Bank meant to finance infrastructure projects without reliance on Western lenders; a new television channel built around a shared narrative and presented as giving voice to the people of the Sahel; and a joint military force intended to operate across borders against armed groups. It was a moment to celebrate achievements more than to sign new agreements.

But the reason behind the urgency of those announcements lay beyond the summit hall.

In this layered terrain of fracture and identity, armed groups have found room not only to manoeuvre, but to grow. Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), an al-Qaeda affiliate, has expanded from rural Mali, launching attacks across the region and reaching the coast of Benin, exploiting weak state presence and long-unresolved grievances.

As our plane descended toward Bamako, I looked out at an endless stretch of earth, wondering how much of it was now under the control of al-Qaeda affiliates.

From the airport, our minders drove us fast through the city. Motorbikes swerved around us, street hawkers peddled their wares, and Malian pop blared from speakers. At first, this did not feel like a capital under siege. Yet since September, armed groups have been operating a blockade around Bamako, choking off fuel and goods, the military government said.

We drove past petrol stations where long queues stretched into the night. Life continued even as fuel grew scarce. People sat patiently, waiting their turn. Anger seemed to have given way to indifference, while rumours swirled that the authorities had struck quiet deals with the very fighters they claimed to be fighting, simply to keep the city moving.

‘To become one country, to hold each other’s hand’

Our minders drove us on to the Sahel Alliance Square, a newly created public space built to celebrate the union of the three countries and its people.

On the way, Malian forces sped past, perhaps toward a front line that feels ever closer, as gunmen linked to JNIM have set up checkpoints disrupting trade routes to the capital in recent months. In September 2024, they also carried out coordinated attacks inside Bamako, hitting a military police school housing elite units, nearby neighbourhoods, and the military airport on the city’s outskirts. And yet, Bamako carries on, as if the war were taking place in a faraway land.

At Sahel Alliance Square, a few hundred young people gathered and cheered as the Malian forces went by, drawn by loud music, trivia questions on stage and the MC’s promise of small prizes.

The questions were simple: Name the AES countries? Name the leaders?

A microphone was handed to the children. The alliance leaders’ names were drilled in: Abdourahamane Tchiani of Niger. Ibrahim Traore of Burkina Faso. Assimi Goita of Mali. Repeated again and again until they stuck.

Correct answers won a prize: a T-shirt stamped with the faces of the alliance leaders.

Moussa Niare, 12 years old and a resident of Bamako, clutched a shirt bearing the faces of the three military leaders.

“They’ve gathered together to become one country, to hold each other’s hand, and to fight a common enemy,” he told us with buoyant confidence, as the government’s attempt to sell the new alliance to the public appeared to be cultivating loyalty among the young.

France out, Russia in

While Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger went through separate political transitions, the paths that brought them into a shared alliance followed a similar pattern.

Between 2020 and 2023, each country saw its democratically elected leadership removed by the military, the takeovers framed as necessary corrections.

In Mali, Colonel Goita seized power after months of protest and amid claims that President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita had failed to curb corruption or halt the advance of armed groups.

In Burkina Faso, the army ousted President Roch Marc Christian Kabore in early 2022 as insecurity worsened; later that year, Captain Traore emerged from a counter-coup, promising a more decisive response to the rebellion.

In Niger, soldiers led by General Tchiani detained President Mohamed Bazoum in July 2023, accusing his government of failing to safeguard national security and of leaning too heavily on foreign partners.

What began as separate seizures of power have since become a shared political project, now expressed through a formal alliance. The gathering in Bamako was to give shape to their union.

One of the key conclusions of the AES summit was the announced launch of a joint military battalion aimed at fighting armed groups across the Sahel.

This follows months of escalating violence, as regional armies assisted by Russian mercenaries push back against armed groups who have been launching attacks for over a decade.

Under the previous civilian governments, former colonial ruler France had a strong diplomatic and military presence. French troops, whose presence in the region dates back to independence, are now being pushed out, as military rulers recast sovereignty as both a political and security imperative. The last troops left Mali in 2022, but at its peak, France had more than 5,000 soldiers deployed there. When they withdrew, the country became a symbol of strategic failure for France’s Emmanuel Macron.

But even before that, French diplomacy appeared tone deaf, and patronising at best, failing to grasp the aspirations of its former colonies. The common regional currency, the CFA franc, still anchored to the French treasury, has become a powerful symbol of that resentment.

Now, French state television and radio have been banned in Mali. In what was once the heart of Francophone West Africa, French media has become shorthand for interference. What was lost was not only influence, but credibility. France was no longer seen as guaranteeing stability, but as producing instability.

Across the Sahel and beyond, anti-French sentiment is surging, often expressed in French itself – the language of the coloniser is now also the language of resistance.

‘Like a marriage of reason’

At the end of the summit, Mali’s Goita was preparing to hand over the AES’s rotating leadership to Traore of Burkina Faso.

Young, charismatic, and the new rock star of Pan-Africanism, Traore, in particular, has captured young audiences with help from a loose ecosystem of pro-Russian messaging and Africanist influencers. Across social media platforms, short videos circulate relentlessly: speeches clipped for virality, images of defiance, and slogans reduced to shareable fragments.

Meanwhile, in Burkina Faso, journalists and civil society actors who have criticised the military rules have been sent to the front line under a conscription policy introduced by Traore. Human rights groups outspoken about alleged extrajudicial killings say they have been silenced or sidelined. But much of it is dismissed as collateral, the price, supporters argue, of sovereignty finally reclaimed.

Before the ceremony, we met Mali’s finance minister. At first, he was confident, rehearsed, assured. But when pressed about financing for the ambitious infrastructure projects the three governments have laid out for the Sahel, his composure faltered and his words stuttered. This was a government official unaccustomed to being questioned. The microphone was removed. Later, away from the camera, he told me, “The IMF won’t release loans until Mali has ironed out its relations with France.”

The spokesperson, irritated by my questions, took me aside. As he adjusted the collar of my suit, slowly and patronisingly, he said he sometimes thought about putting journalists in jail “just for fun”.

He did not question the organisation I worked for. He questioned my French passport; my allegiance. I told him my allegiance was to the truth. He smiled, as if that answer confirmed his suspicions.

In the worldview of Mali’s military government – men shaped by years on the front line, living with a permanent sense of threat – journalists and critics are part of the problem. Creating safety was the challenge. The alliance, the spokesperson explained, was the solution to what they could not find within regional body, ECOWAS.

The half-century-old West African institution is a bloc that the three countries had once helped shape. Now, the AES leaders say its ageing, democratically elected presidents have grown detached, more invested in maintaining one another in office than in confronting the region’s crises. In response, they are promoting the AES as an alternative.

As the Sahel alliance grows, it’s also building new infrastructure.

At its new television channel in Bamako, preparations were under way. The ON AIR sign glowed. State-of-the-art cameras sat on tripods like polished weapons.

The channel’s director, Salif Sanogo, told me it would be “a tool to fight disinformation,” a way to counter Western, and more specifically French, narratives and “give voice to the people of the Sahel, by the people of the Sahel”.

The cameras had been bought abroad. The installation was overseen by a French production company. The irony went unremarked.

To defend the alliance, he offered a metaphor. “It’s like a marriage of reason,” he said. “It’s easier to make decisions when you’re married to three. When you’re married to 15, it’s a mess.” He was referring to the 15 member states of ECOWAS.

‘We will survive this, too’

Two years into the AES alliance, they have moved faster than the legacy regional bloc they left behind. A joint military force now binds their borders together, presented as a matter of survival rather than ambition. A mutual defence pact recasts coups and external pressure as shared threats, not national failures. A common Sahel investment and development bank, meant to finance roads, energy, and mineral extraction without recourse to Western lenders, offers sovereignty, they say, without conditions. A common currency is under discussion.

A shared news channel is intended to project a single narrative outward, even as space for independent media contracts at home. And after withdrawing from the International Criminal Court, they have proposed a Sahel penal court, one that would try serious crimes and human rights violations on their own terms. Justice brought home, or justice brought under control, depending on who you ask.

What is taking shape is not just an alliance, but an alternative architecture, built quickly, deliberately, and in full view of its critics.

Where ECOWAS built norms slowly, through elections, mediation, and consensus, AES is building structure. Where ECOWAS insists on patience, AES insists on speed.

To supporters, this is overdue self-determination, dignity restored after decades of dependency. To critics, it is power concentrated in uniforms, accountability postponed, repression dressed up as emancipation.

From the summit stage as he took over the alliance’s leadership, Traore redrew the enemy: Not al-Qaeda. Not ISIL. Not even France. But their African neighbours, cast as the enemy within. He warned of what he called a “black winter”, a speech that held the room and travelled far beyond it, drawing millions of viewers online.

“Why are we, Black people, trying to cultivate hatred among ourselves,” he asked, “and through hypocrisy calling ourselves brothers? We have only two choices: either we put an end to imperialism once and for all, or we remain slaves until we disappear.”

Away from the summit’s “black winter”, under a sunlit sky in Bamako, life moved on with a quieter rhythm. Music drifted through public squares and streets, carrying a familiarity that cut across the tension of speeches and slogans. It was Amadou and Mariam, Mali’s most internationally known musical duo, whose songs once carried the country’s everyday joys far beyond its borders. Amadou died suddenly this year. But the melody lingers.

Its lyrics hold the secret of the largest alliance of all. Not one forged by treaties or uniforms, but by people, across Mali and the Sahel, in all their diversity.

“Sabali”, Mariam sings.

“Forbearance.

“We have survived worse. We will survive this, too.”

The military rulers expand emergency powers, warning that people, property, and services may be requisitioned.

Niger’s military rulers have approved a general mobilisation and authorised the requisition of people and goods as they intensify the fight against armed groups across the country, according to a government statement.

The decision followed a cabinet meeting on Friday and marks a major escalation by the military government, which seized power in a July 2023 coup that toppled the country’s democratically elected president, Mohamed Bazoum.

“People, property, and services may be requisitioned during general mobilisation to contribute to the defence of the homeland, in compliance with the legislation and regulations in force,” the government said in a statement issued late on Saturday.

“Every citizen is required to respond immediately to any call-up or recall order, to comply without delay with the implementation of measures for the defence of the homeland, and to submit to requisition,” it added.

The authorities said the measures aim to “preserve the integrity of the national territory” and “protect the population” as Niger continues to face attacks by armed groups operating across several regions.

Niger has been embroiled in deadly armed conflict for more than a decade, with violence linked to fighters affiliated with al-Qaeda and the ISIL (ISIS) group. Nearly 2,000 people have been killed, according to the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project (ACLED), which tracks political violence.

The southeast of the country has also suffered repeated attacks by Boko Haram and its splinter group, the ISIL affiliate in West Africa Province (ISWAP), further stretching Niger’s security forces.

The mobilisation order comes five years after Niger expanded its armed forces to around 50,000 troops and raised the retirement age for senior officers from 47 to 52. Since taking power, the military government has also urged citizens to make “voluntary” financial contributions to a fund launched in 2023 to support military spending and agricultural projects.

Soon after the coup, Niger’s rulers ordered French and United States troops, who had supported operations to combat rebel fighters, to withdraw from the country.

Niger has since deepened security cooperation with neighbouring Mali and Burkina Faso, also ruled by a military government. The three Sahel states have formed a joint force of 5,000 troops, presenting it as a regional response to armed groups while further distancing themselves from Western partners.

“More to come”: Those are the words of United States Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth after his country carried out a wave of air strikes against ISIL (ISIS) in northwestern Nigeria.

Hegseth said the aim is to stop the group’s killing of what he called “innocent Christians”.

Back in November, President Donald Trump warned the US would take action against the group if the Nigerian government continued to allow what he claimed was the targeting of Christians.

Many say Trump was pressured by his right-wing Christian base in the US to carry out the recent attacks in Nigeria. But what could be the fallout on the African country with a highly complex religious makeup?

Presenter: Adrian Finighan

Guests:

Malik Samuel – Senior researcher at Good Governance Africa

Ebenezer Obadare – Senior fellow for Africa studies at the Council on Foreign Relations

David Otto – Deputy director of counterterrorism training at the International Academy for the Fight Against Terrorism

Interior Ministry says the raid killed Mohammed Shahadeh, describing him as one of ISIL’s senior commanders in Syria.

Syrian authorities say security forces have carried out a second operation against ISIL (ISIS) fighters near Damascus, killing a senior figure described as the group’s governor of Hauran.

In a statement on Thursday, the Ministry of Interior said the raid killed Mohammed Shahadeh, also known as Abu Omar Shaddad, calling him one of ISIL’s senior commanders in Syria and a direct threat to local security.

Officials said the operation followed verified intelligence and extensive surveillance and was carried out by specialised units, operating in the Damascus countryside, that conducted a targeted raid in the town of al-Buweida, near Qatana, southwest of the capital.

The operation also involved the General Intelligence Directorate and took place in coordination with international coalition forces, the ministry said.

‘Crippling blow’

The announcement came a day after Syrian internal security forces arrested another senior ISIL figure in a separate operation near Damascus, according to the state-run SANA news agency.

SANA reported that forces arrested Taha al-Zoubi during what it described as a “tightly executed security operation” in the Damascus countryside. The agency said officers seized “a suicide belt and a military weapon” during the arrest.

Brigadier General Ahmad al-Dalati, head of internal security in the Damascus countryside, told SANA that the raid targeted an ISIL hideout in Maadamiya, southwest of the capital.

ISIL, which considers the current authorities in Damascus illegitimate, has largely focused its remaining operations on Kurdish-led forces in northern Syria.

At the height of its power, the armed group controlled vast areas of Iraq and Syria, declaring Raqqa its capital.

Although ISIL suffered military defeat in Iraq in 2017 and in Syria two years later, its cells continue to carry out attacks in the region and beyond, including in parts of Africa and Afghanistan.

The blast tore through a mosque in Maiduguri as worshippers gathered for evening prayers, witnesses say.

An explosion has ripped through a mosque in northeastern Nigeria as worshippers gathered for their evening prayers, killing and wounding several people, according to media reports.

The blast took place at about 6pm on Wednesday (17:00 GMT) in the city of Maiduguri in Borno State, the Reuters and AFP news agencies reported, citing witnesses.

Police spokesman Nahum Daso confirmed the explosion and told AFP that an explosive ordnance team was already on site at the mosque in Maiduguri’s Gamboru market.

There was no official word on casualties.

But mosque leader Malam Abuna Yusuf told the AFP at least eight people had died, while a militia leader, Babakura Kolo, put the figure at seven.

Another witness, Musa Yusha’u, told AFP that he saw “many victims being taken away for medical treatment”.

The cause of the blast was not immediately known, but it occurred ‍in a ⁠city that has been at the heart of an armed rebellion waged by Boko Haram and ISIL’s (ISIS) offshoot in the region, the Islamic State West Africa Province, for nearly two decades.

The conflict has killed at least 40,000 people and displaced about two million from their homes since 2009, according to the United Nations.

Though the violence has waned since its peak about a decade ago, it has spilt into neighbouring Niger, Chad and Cameroon.

Concerns are also growing about a resurgence of violence in parts of the northeast, where armed groups remain capable of mounting deadly attacks despite years of sustained military operations.

Maiduguri itself – once the scene of nightly gun battles and bombings – has been calm in recent years, with the last major attack recorded in 2021.

Leaders from Mali, Niger and Burkina Faso are hoping to find a way to repel advancing fighters linked to al-Qaeda. Al Jazeera’s Laura Khan explains what’s at stake at an Alliance of Sahel States summit in Bamako.

The United Nations Security Council (UNSC) has condemned Rwanda for backing a rebel offensive in eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo and urged it to withdraw its forces and stop supporting the M23 armed group.

The UNSC unanimously adopted the resolution on Friday, and also extended the UN peacekeeping mission in the DRC, known as MONUSCO, for a year. This came despite Rwanda’s repeated denials – contrary to overwhelming evidence – of involvement in a conflict that has intensified as a United States-brokered peace deal unravels.

The UNSC said M23’s seizure of the strategic city of Uvira “risks destabilizing the whole region, gravely endangers civilian populations and imperils ongoing peace efforts”.

“M23 must immediately withdraw at least 75km (47 miles) from Uvira and return to compliance with all of its obligations undertaken in the Framework Agreement,” said Jennifer Locetta, a US representative to the UN.

M23 captured Uvira in the South Kivu Province on December 10, less than a week after the DRC and Rwandan presidents met US President Donald Trump in Washington and committed to a peace agreement.

“It is an amazing day: great day for Africa, great day for the world and for these two countries. And they have so much to be proud of,” Trump crowed, as fighting quickly undermined the White House spectacle.

One Uvira resident, Feza Mariam, told Al Jazeera in recent days: “We don’t know anything about the political process they are talking about.

“The only thing we need is peace. Anyone able to provide us with peace is welcome here. For the rest, we as citizens, we don’t care about it.”

The M23 group claimed on Wednesday it was withdrawing from the city following international backlash, but the DRC government dismissed this as a “staged” pullback, saying M23 forces remain deployed there.

US Secretary of State Marco Rubio acknowledged on Friday that commitments under the Washington accord were “not being met” but said his government had now signed agreements it could “hold people to”.

The US earlier warned it would use available tools against those undermining the peace deal, with US officials estimating between 5,000 and 7,000 Rwandan soldiers were operating in eastern DRC as of early December.

The US had previously sanctioned Rwandan cabinet ministers earlier this year, and the DRC later led calls to expand those sanctions after the seizure of Uvira.

The fighting has triggered a major humanitarian emergency, with more than 84,000 people fleeing into Burundi since early December, according to the UN refugee agency, which said the country has reached a “critical point” as refugees arrive exhausted and traumatised. They join approximately 200,000 others who had already sought refuge in the country.

Regional officials say more than 400 civilians have been killed in recent violence in the city.

The seizure of Uvira, located directly across Lake Tanganyika from Burundi’s largest city, Bujumbura, has raised fears of broader regional spillover. The city was the last major foothold in South Kivu for the DRC government and the Wazalendo, which are DRC-allied militias, after M23 captured the provincial capital, Bukavu, in February.

Rwanda has consistently denied backing M23, despite assessments by UN experts and the international community. In a February interview with CNN, Rwandan President Paul Kagame said he did not know whether his country’s troops were in the DRC, despite being commander-in-chief of the armed forces.

Rwanda implicitly acknowledged a presence in eastern DRC in February 2024, when it rejected a US call to withdraw troops and surface-to-air missile systems, saying it had adjusted its posture for self-defence.

Rwanda maintains that its security concerns are driven by the presence of the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda, a militia composed largely of Hutus who fled to the DRC after participating in the 1994 genocide that killed approximately 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus.

Kigali views the group as an existential threat and accuses the DRC government of supporting it.

The broader conflict in the mineral-rich eastern DRC, where more than 100 armed groups operate, has displaced more than seven million people, creating one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises.