Borno

It was almost 6 p.m. on the evening of Wednesday, Dec. 24. 

Makinta Bukar had finished attending to a customer when he heard the Islamic call for prayer from a nearby mosque, signalling the closure of business for the day. He performed ablution, picked up the food items he had bought earlier, locked his shop, and headed to the Al-Adum Jummat Mosque in Gamboru Market, Maiduguri, northeastern Nigeria.

It was a routine he had followed for years.

A few shops away, Suleiman Zakariya was also closing up. Alongside a friend known simply as Manager, he walked towards the same mosque. 

The three men met outside the mosque and chatted briefly. Makinta and Suleiman went in through the front door and occupied the front row, while Manager followed through the back door and stayed a few rows behind them. 

Then prayer began. 

Moments later, a sudden loud sound exploded in the middle of the mosque.

“I thought it was an electric spark,” Makinta recalled. “I ran out immediately as I was close to the exit.” After a few steps, he collapsed. “That was when I noticed the blood on my trousers. I tried standing up but felt a sharp pain.”

Suleiman, standing just behind the Imam, could not escape as quickly. 

“The blast threw me forward,” he recalled. “I sustained injuries on my legs and waist. The debris pierced through my two legs. There was dust everywhere. You could not see anything. The sound was so loud that it deafened my right ear. I still cannot hear with it.”

Manager, who was praying close to the centre of the mosque where the explosion occurred, did not survive.

“He was blown apart,” Suleiman said. “It was only his right arm that was identified this morning through his wristwatch.”

A familiar violence returns

The explosion triggered panic across the area and people ran in all directions. 

As the confusion spread and the sound of the blast quietened, residents rushed towards the scene. Some tried to help the wounded; others searched desperately for friends and relatives. Security operatives and ambulances soon arrived.

“They put me and other victims into their vehicle and drove us to the hospital,” Makinta recalled. Some were taken to the Maiduguri Specialist Hospital, others to the University of Maiduguri Teaching Hospital.

Police authorities later said five people were killed and at least 35 were injured. But survivors dispute that number.

“None of those praying in the middle survived,” Salisu Tahir, another survivor, who prayed in the last row, said. He had prayed regularly at the mosque for nearly two years. “The mosque can take more than 100 people,” he added. “That day, it was full,” Salisu noted that about 15 worshippers could make up a row. 

Others who were praying outside, on the verandah and in the open air, were also struck by debris. “The blast reached them, too,” Suleiman noted. 

When HumAngle visited the mosque, blood stains still marked the walls. Footwear and caps, left behind in the rush to escape, lay scattered across the floor.

The explosion reopened old wounds in a city still trying to heal.

At press time, no terrorist organisation operating in the region has claimed responsibility, and authorities say investigations are ongoing. However, the pattern resembles previous attacks attributed to the Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad (JAS) faction of the Boko Haram terror group.

For more than a decade, Maiduguri stood at the centre of Boko Haram’s insurgency. What began in 2009 as an uprising against the state evolved into a brutal campaign targeting civilians, markets, schools, and places of worship. Tens of thousands were killed, and millions displaced across Borno State and neighbouring regions.

At the height of the violence, bombings were frequent. In 2015, coordinated suicide attacks tore through parts of Maiduguri, including markets and busy roads. Two years later, explosions struck the University of Maiduguri, claiming several lives and heightening fear among residents.

The violence devastated livelihoods. Farming collapsed in many areas. Trade slowed as roads became unsafe. Markets emptied, and families who once relied on daily commerce slipped deeper into poverty.

Gradually, the attacks receded. Counterterrorism and community-led efforts, particularly the rise of the Civilian Joint Task Force, helped push terror groups out of the city. Checkpoints became less visible. Shops reopened. Life, cautiously, began to return.

For years, Maiduguri experienced a fragile calm.

Until now.

Lives interrupted

Wednesday’s bombing has put many lives on hold.

Makinta now lies on a hospital bed, his legs wrapped in bandages. A maize flour trader, he earns his living selling goods that belong to his employer. “I make at least ₦7,000 daily,” he said. “I have a wife and two daughters. I provide for them from what I make at the market.”

Now, he worries about survival.

“With this injury, I cannot go out.” Shrapnel tore into both his legs, damaging the bone in his left leg. 

As he spoke, a relative came to visit. Before leaving, she handed him ₦1,000, which he immediately passed on to his wife.

“I had just finished ablution and was preparing to pray when I heard the news,” said Yagana Bukar, Makinta’s wife. “I had already made stew and put water on the fire. I was waiting for him to return with rice so I could cook.” When she learnt about her husband, she rushed to the hospital, leaving her children with her sister.

Unlike Makinta, Suleiman owns his shop, where he sells provisions supplied on credit. “I collect items from wholesalers at Monday Market, sell them, and then return their money,” he explained. “What remains is my profit. I make about ₦20,000 daily. That is my only source of income.”

He also buys food for his household daily. “This incident will affect me badly,” he said. “I cannot go to the market until I recover. I worry about how my family will survive during this time. I am the sole breadwinner.”

At the entrance of the ward, Abatcha Mohammed waited anxiously. His younger brother was among the injured. “My shop is next to his,” he said. “I also pray in that mosque. But that day, I had gone home early because my son was sick. When the explosion happened, I rushed back. My uncle and some friends were also affected.”

The market falls quiet

At Gamboru Market, HumAngle observed a scene far removed from its usual bustle. Many shops, especially those closest to the mosque, were locked. Stalls stood empty. The area was unusually quiet, with security operatives patrolling the streets.

Gamboru Market is one of Maiduguri’s busiest commercial centres, drawing traders and buyers from across Borno State and neighbouring countries, including Chad, Cameroon, and Niger. It hosts a wide range of businesses, from fresh produce and clothing to household goods, and supports countless small-scale traders, tailors, and food vendors. Activity often continues into the night, sometimes until 9 p.m., long after the main market closes.

Now, that routine has been broken.

Still, the survivors speak with resolve. 

“I will be careful going forward,” Makinta said. “Nothing happens without the will of Allah.” Suleiman echoed him. “I will return to the mosque,” he said. “Crowded or not, I will pray again. Allah has already written what will happen. I survived this because it was not my time. Those who died, it was their appointed time.”

Saturday, Dec. 13, 2025, was meant to be a pivotal civic exercise across Borno State, northeastern Nigeria, as residents were expected to elect chairpersons and councillors responsible for local development, basic services, and community representation. Instead, what unfolded across parts of the state bore little resemblance to a functioning democratic process.

Umar Ali, a resident of Gamboru in Maiduguri, stepped out that morning expecting to vote, but could not locate any polling unit nearby. “We thought it was just a delay, but there was no election activity at all,” he said. 

His experience was replicated across the city and other neighbouring council wards. HumAngle observed that many polling units listed by the Borno State Independent Electoral Commission (BOSIEC) were deserted, with neither officials nor voters in sight. In locations where officials were present, there was only a handful of voters, often confined to near-empty compounds.

An exception was Ajari II polling unit in Mafa Ward, where Borno State Governor Babagana Zulum cast his vote, which recorded a higher turnout than most other locations observed.

In several neighbourhoods, residents watched the day pass from outside their homes or went about their chores. Conversations revealed frustration, distrust, and a widespread perception that the outcome had already been predetermined.

“This is not an election. It is a selection,” said Musa Ali, who declined to approach the polling unit closest to his house. He accused the government of determining the results in advance. “They already know what they are doing,” he argued. 

For many residents, the only indication that an election was taking place was the restriction of movement imposed across the state. “If not for the ban, you would not even know voting is going on,” said 22-year-old Fatima Alai. 

On some of the empty streets, children and even young adults turned it into football fields. 

Borno State has over 2.5 million registered voters, with about 2.4 million Permanent Voter Cards collected, as of February 2023. Yet participation in local government elections remains low. It is unclear how many people voted in the Dec. 13 elections. However, this trend is not unique to Borno or even to the current election cycle.

Across Nigeria, turnout in local government elections is consistently lower than in national polls. Analysts and residents alike attribute this to weak service delivery at the council level, the routine imposition of candidates by political parties, and the limited credibility of state-run electoral commissions. For many citizens, local elections appear disconnected from accountability or tangible improvements in daily life.

Malpractice in plain sight

Beyond voter apathy, HumAngle observed troubling procedural violations at multiple polling units. At a polling unit in Bulama Kachallah II, in Maiduguri, HumAngle observed electoral officials stamping ballot papers and depositing them into the ballot box in the absence of voters. This continued between 9:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., when we left the unit. 

A similar scene played out at another polling unit in nearby Bulama Kachallah I. BOSIEC officials wearing identification tags, alongside unidentified individuals, openly filled out ballot papers and inserted them into the boxes. 

When approached, a party agent who was present at the scene told HumAngle, “Ba ruwan ka,” meaning, “It is none of your business.”

Despite these irregularities, BOSIEC Chairperson Tahiru Shettima maintained that the process met democratic standards. “I think the commission has done its best and the election was free, fair, inclusive, and transparent,” he said. 

Two days after the exercise, BOSIEC announced that the ruling APC won all 27 chairpersonship seats in the state. The election was contested by six political parties, including the New Nigeria People’s Party, Social Democratic Party, Labour Party, and People’s Redemption Party.

Notably absent was the Peoples’ Democratic Party (PDP), the state’s leading opposition force. In the days leading up to the election, the PDP formally boycotted the process, citing concerns about the legitimacy and fairness of the electoral process, the high costs associated with the expression-of-interest and nomination forms, and a lack of trust in BOSIEC’s capacity to conduct credible elections.

The African Democratic Congress (ADC), a national opposition coalition, was also missing from the ballot. A member of the party, who asked not to be named, claimed that “the state government had been a big challenge”. He said that when the party attempted to launch its Borno State chapter in November, security operatives disrupted the event, alleging that the government had not been notified. According to him, this interference contributed to the ADC’s absence from the December local council election.

The electoral commission rejected these criticisms. Shettima said BOSIEC had consulted with stakeholders, including political parties, on logistics and nomination fees, and insisted that participation was voluntary. “We cannot force any political party to take part in the election,” he told journalists.

Public reactions on social media, meanwhile, suggested a contrasting reality to official claims. Tanko Wabba, a Facebook user, wrote: “We didn’t see the election [ballot] box in our street,” reflecting frustration over missing polling units and highlighting a gap between official claims and citizens’ experiences.

Weakened local governance 

For more than a decade, local council elections were not held in Borno State due to the Boko Haram insurgency. During that period, councils were administered by caretaker committees appointed by the state government. Elections resumed in 2020, with another round held in January 2024. 

While those elections were described by the media as largely peaceful, turnout was characterised as average at best. Analysts cited voter fatigue, lingering security concerns, and persistent doubts about the relevance and autonomy of local councils.

Under Nigeria’s Constitution, local governments constitute the third tier of government, operating under the state’s supervision. Democratically elected councils are mandated to manage basic services such as roads, markets, sanitation, health clinics, business and vehicle licensing, local fees, education, and support for agriculture and health in coordination with the state.

Executive authority at the local level rests with the chairperson and vice chairperson, who implement council policies through supervisory councillors and the civil service. In practice, however, councils often have limited autonomy. State governments frequently override their authority by appointing caretaker committees—often ruling party loyalists—and retaining control of local government finances through joint state–local government accounts.

Autonomy debates and unresolved tensions

In July 2024, Nigeria’s Supreme Court ordered that allocations from the federation account meant for lo­cal governments must be disbursed to them directly, rather than the joint account created by the state government. The court restrained governors from collecting, withholding, or tampering with these funds, declaring such actions unconstitutional, null, and void.

The Minister of State for Defence, Bello Mohammed Matawalle, welcomed the ruling, saying it would allow local governments to manage their own finances, strengthen accountability to voters, and improve service delivery and development.

However, the Nigerian Governors’ Forum opposed the decision. The governors argued that full local government autonomy does not align with Nigeria’s federal structure and said the ruling failed to address longstanding issues of weak administration and executive excesses at the council level.

“The desire for decentralisation must be backed by a commitment to delegate resources, power, and tasks to local-level governance structures that are democratic and largely independent of central government,” said Victor Adetula, a Professor of Political Science at the University of Jos.

Against this backdrop of contested authority and fragile credibility, the conduct of Borno’s local government elections raises deeper questions—not just about electoral integrity, but about whether local democracy in the state can meaningfully deliver the governance and development it promises.