caught

DJ Spoony was sent in some joke names on BBC Radio 2 but read them out loud without realising.

The Radio 1 and 2 legend was sitting in for his mate, Trevor Nelson, when he ran a competition asking people to guess a song after playing only one second of it.

After reading out some of the guesses from listeners, he followed up with their names and where they’re from, as per radio tradition.

The next guess was Joe Dolce’s hit Shaddap You Face, with Spoony saying, “Someone always guesses Joe Dolce.”

He then added that the guess was from, “Ben Down and Phil McAvity.”

Thankfully, Spoony mispronounced the two surnames and saved himself the embarrassment of having read two very rude prank names.

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The Radio 2 star has been filling in for Trevor Nelson over the past two months after he was diagnosed with a brain tumour,

Trevor suddenly stepped away from his weekday radio show in June and returned to social media to update fans on why he was absent.

The dad-of-two said he felt he wanted to share more details due to the outpouring of love he had received.

He said: “I was minding my own business and then it was discovered I had a brain tumour.

“As you can imagine, I was shocked. In fact, my world was turned upside down.

“Quite literally, my head was all over the place. I knew I had to stop work because I couldn’t be that guy on the radio knowing I had that going on.”

After confirming his surgery was a success, Trevor said he’d been at home “recuperating and resting” and having post-op treatment.

He went on: “I can only tell you the truth, and the truth is I feel great right now.”

Trevor added he was back playing golf and in the gym and living his old life, except for the radio and gigs.

The veteran DJ hosts the afternoon show on Radio 2 between 2 and 4pm.

The latest episode of Olivia Atwood’s The Price of Perfection took an unexpected turn

The ITV presenter caught a mystery man’s eye.

Olivia Attwood briefly paused her ITV2 show, The Price of Perfection, to address a flirty encounter. The former Love Island star, 35, returned with the latest episode of her hit show on Tuesday (August 18) night.

This instalment focused on all things face lifts, and followed Olivia as she journeyed around London trying to uncover what treatments are available for young women looking to transform their faces.

But the presenter was interrupted when she visited a clinic where one surgeon was performing a full face and neck lift.

As she explained the procedure to the camera, a man with his face blurred walked by and seemingly shot a flirtatious look at Olivia.

Spotting his lingering look, the ITV host turned back to the camera and joked: “In your dreams, do you know what I mean?”.

She went on to add: “That’s honestly what it’s been like since I took my wedding ring off. It’s actually, it’s just like let me [live].”

The former TOWIE cast member was married to footballer Bradley Dack for just over two years, before they called it quits in January.

She has since found romance with fellow reality star Pete Wicks, with the pair publicly launching their relationship back in July.

Season 3 of The Price of Perfection is now streaming on ITVX, and the just-aired third episode features a cameo from TOWIE star Dani Imbert.

A synopsis for the instalment teases: “With so many techniques and brands offering to slice and sculpt our face, Olivia looks at the options the under fifties are looking at.

“At just 28, TOWIE’s Dani Imbert has a brow lift but is left unhappy with the results. Newly single Sophie tries a thread lift for a ‘snatched’ look. Amy, exhausted by the cost of facial maintenance having spent £150,000 on fillers, opts for a short scar mini facelift, a procedure with mixed online reviews.

“Olivia also joins a surgeon performing a full face and neck lift on business owner Brit, learning the real differences between SMAS and deep plane approaches, and what may have delivered Kris Jenner’s headline grabbing result.”

Olivia Attwood: The Price of Perfection is available to stream on ITVX

OFFICIALS in Italy are cracking down on anyone attempting to bag themselves the best beach spot by leaving items on the sand all week.

From sunloungers to parasols, those caught trying to reserve a space in the morning or late at night could receive a fine over £400.

On a coastal suburb in Naples called Torre del Greco, officials like coastguard staff and police have been removing ‘reserved’ spots.

Tourists have been leaving items on the beach overnight in order to keep their place.

During a morning sweep of one of the beaches called Laghetto, authorities seized up to 40 items, as reported by The Guardian.

Others have complained that items like sun umbrellas and small tables have been left unattended for days by tourists reserving the space to use later on.

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The port authority said: “It is a practice that recurs each summer, but it is expressly prohibited.

It added that “occupying the beach in this manner violates the regulations governing the management of maritime public domain areas.”

Anyone caught leaving belongings on the beach after sunset to keep their spot will be fined up to €500 (£425).

Beaches in Torre del Greco include Spiaggia libera Il Laghetto and Moon Beach.

This isn’t the only spot to crack down on sunlounger hogging.

These rules are being enforced by the Calpe Town Council, which affects the Costa Blanca.

Local authorities in the Spanish resort have the right to remove sunbeds, towels and parasols put on beaches before 9.30am.

Anyone whose belongings taken away will have to pay to get them back and could face a fine of up to €250 (£216).

Across Europe, other crackdowns include smoking on beaches and wearing swimwear in public spaces that aren’t the beach.

Kuwait has since the beginning of the Iran War in February been targeted by Iranian drones and missiles 1,400 times. Why has this state—smaller than the US state of New Jersey—been targeted more than any of its larger neighbors including Bahrain, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates?

A military node

This question takes us all the way back to 1991 when the US intervenes when Iraq under Saddam Hussein invades Kuwait. In return, Kuwait has since hosted one of the the largest US armies in the Middle East of 13,000 troops, and has the fourth biggest deployment of the US military globally. Furthermore, Kuwait is one of five U.S. Army Prepositioned Stocks (APS) sites across the world— a cornerstone of the US’ global military strategy as it allows for rapid deployment and display of influence. And not only does Kuwait not charge the US for its land use, or restrict US troop movements on its territory—unlike most other host countries—but indeed pays the US for its troop presence, and subsidies energy and water costs for the military bases.

A geostrategic asset  

In exchange, Kuwait’s geostrategic location on the Arabian peninsula and along the air corridor between Asia and Europe makes the country an important location for the US to secure its interests and exert influence in the region and beyond. Indeed, the US has designated Kuwait as a Major Non-Nato Ally since 2004, and has located its biggest air logistics facility in the Middle East in conjunction with Kuwait international airport. Thus, Kuwait has proven a key logistical hub for US military operations in the region including against the Islamic State and during the withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021.

Furthermore, Kuwait holds 7% of the world’s oil reserves, reinforcing its importance for the US and other oil consuming countries, while also making it strategically vulnerable to Iranian attacks on energy plants in late July, as this adds to the ongoing energy insecurity created by the closure of the key oil trade route through the Strait of Hormuz.

The end of diplomatic balancing?

Despite these far-reaching strategic links with the US, Kuwait has long maintained a diplomatic balancing act, refusing to normalise relations with Israel while simultaneously refraining from condemning the Iranian regime. Moreover, Kuwait has often assumed the role of neutral mediator in the Middle East. For example, Kuwait mediated the 2021 rapprochement between Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, the United Arab Emirates and Egypt, and has contributed to peace efforts in Yemen. In addition, Kuwait has been much more cautious in its statements concerning the Iranian regime, unlike its vocally critical, yet less targeted neighbors such as the United Arab Emirates, and has even refused to allow the US to use military bases in Kuwait for launching attacks on Iran.

Geographic liabilities

Even so, Kuwait has fallen prey to its geography. For one, its geographical proximity to Iran makes Kuwait a comparatively cheap and easy target for Iranian missiles, while its lack of naturally occurring fresh water and consequent reliance on desalination provides Teheran an additional pressure point, as illustrated by Iranian attacks on desalination plants in late July. Furthermore, its proximity to Iraq has exposed it to attacks by Iraqi Shia militias, allied with Teheran.

And the risk of further attacks in the future is high. On 1 August, Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi declared that it would react ”decisively” against any US strikes, and warned Gulf states against permitting the US and Israel to use bases on their territories to launch attacks against Iran. Similarly, Iraq announced that its military forces stood ready to ‘thwart any attempts at targeting neighbouring countries within our regional sphere.’ Thus, recent developments suggest that Kuwait might no longer be able to remain an independent diplomatically oriented actor that can stay out of the conflicts in the Middle East.

Ideology

While Iran’s official rationale for the attacks has been to target US military targets and assets, the attacks on energy and desalination plants are neither; these are civilian infrastructures. Hence it is Kuwaiti civilians—not the US military capacity—that bear the brunt of the attacks. This suggests that Iranian attacks have not only immediate military objectives in context of the current war, but also underlying psychological and ideological motives, as these attacks can be seen as a way of scaring countries that go against Iran’s exhortations—reiterated since 1979–to its Gulf neighbors to cut ties with the US. In addition, the attacks expose the limitations of US security guarantee, and undermine the credibility of the US promises of stability and protection to its allies.

A change of strategy

Consequently, Kuwait may pivot toward building up more national military defence capabilities, as the deterrence guarantee that the well-accommodated US presence was supposed to provide has ostensibly failed, while Kuwait’s lack of domestic military resources to retaliate further enticed Iranian attacks.

Hence, it appears that the security order in the Middle East is set to become even more fragile, with the US increasingly proving incapable or unwilling to ensure what has long been considered a stabilising presence, and with regional actors increasingly divided and polarized, making neutral mediation harder.

A magnitude 5.4 earthquake struck Egypt, north of Suez early on Monday, startling a content creator during a livestream. Tremors were felt as far as Gaza, prompting residents to evacuate homes and hotels. No casualties were reported.

A HUGE US influencer has revealed her husband’s face “caught on fire” during a BBQ, and has left him with “second-degree burns”.

Rebecca Zamolo, 41, left her followers concerned after she shared the horror accident that left Matthew Yoakum, 46, badly injured.

The social media star shared a slew of photos which included how her husband’s face looked after it had been burned.

Posting the pics on Instagram, the mum-of-two penned: “For those who don’t know, Matt’s face caught on fire at our BBQ and it gave him ‘2nd degree superficial burns’.

“It was hours before our flight to Hawaii to celebrate his birthday so he has been healing here. (He still wanted to go).

“It was a scary incident for all of us, and a reminder how precious life is.

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“Thank you to everyone that has reached out and friends that are in the medical field and put him on a good path to heal.

“He’s extremely lucky as it could have been a lot worse, but we are taking it day by day. We love you Matt.”

Rebecca’s followers immediately rushed to share their concern, with one writing: “Omg. That is horrible. So happy he’s okay.”

While another added: “Sending love & prayers.”

A third worried fan wrote: “This is awful! Get well soon Matt!”

Rebecca is a huge influencer, with 3.3million followers on Instagram and over 30million on YouTube.

The star is known for her family orientated content, which often includes Matt and their two kids, Zadie and Xander.

A NEW passport rule introduced earlier this year has already caught out a number of families.

As many as 1.2million people can no longer use their foreign passport to enter the country.

These passport rules came into play in February and mean that British nationals have to carry a valid British passport to return to the UK.

They can no longer use their foreign passport to enter the country.

An alternative is to have a “certificate of entitlement” costing £589.

Despite being in place for five months, the new rules have been catching people out.

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In one case, a British student was stuck in Rome and missed six weeks of school – she was unable to return home for over a month.

The 15-year-old girl had been visiting her grandmother in Italy in April of this year.

When it was time to return home, she was turned away at the airport because she didn’t have a valid British passport.

The girl’s father sought help from the Home Office and the Foreign Office.

He told The Guardian: “The embassy, the Home Office and the Foreign Office bounced us from one to another.

“They are playing with people’s lives, a child’s education. It is loathsome.”

Eventually, she was issued with an emergency travel document.

In another case, one British woman was caught out when she was trying to travel from Copenhagen to Manchester with her two children.

Colette Bjorn-Alderson, who has lived in the UK for 28 years, had been in the Danish country since April, but was returning to the UK with her six-week- old and 23-month-old for a wedding.

However, her two children only had Danish passports which meant they didn’t have valid travel documents for returning to the UK.

She told The Times that she felt “unwelcome in my own country” after being turned away from the flight.

Colette sent photocopies of her documents to the Home Office – but ultimately the decision was made that the family could not fly.

In June, dad-of-two, Kyle Harris, was refused boarding onto his flight from Kefalonia in Greece back to the UK due to only having an American passport.

The 39-year-old had been on holiday with his wife and two sons and the family has had to extend their time away as a result.

This important question can easily cost holidaymakers extra cash

People going on holiday this summer should know this simple money mistake to avoid as it could needlessly cost you more without realising. The ‘rule’ to remember is very simple, according to money and travel experts.

Travel specialist Kate Donnelly (@Thedonelleyedit) claims that all British people heading abroad this summer should remember one important thing that could result in hidden fees when on holiday. She said that we all have the option to avoid these, even if the choice seems clear and convenient.

She said: “When you are abroad, you should always pay in the local currency. Whether that’s euros or dollars, depending on where you are, and you should never select the option of paying in Great British Pound (GBP).”

Why does it matter what you choose?

Whether you’re buying a meal or using a cash machine, you should always have the option to pay in local currency instead of DCC. Nobody should choose on your behalf.

Kate confirmed: “When you’re abroad, and you choose to pay in pounds, you are allowing the ATM or the shop to do the exchange. Within this, there will also be a conversion charge, which is notoriously a really poor rate, meaning you will end up paying significantly more if you pay in the local currency.

“It’s your bank or the card provider that does the exchange. Even if they add on a transaction fee, you are still going to be getting a better rate if you choose to pay in pounds.”

Choosing dynamic currency conversion (DCC) means the amount is converted from the local currency to pounds at the point of sale. But, “DCC usually costs you more”, according to HSBC.

The bank said: “You might choose DCC and pay in pounds because it’s a currency you’re more familiar with. It could give you a better understanding of how much you’re spending. But there are extra fees, and the exchange rate is usually higher.”

Kate added: “The best thing to do when going on holiday is to invest in a fee-free card, such as a Monzo or a Starling. They add no transaction fees, and they also offer the best exchange rate.”

Martin Lewis previously appeared on ITV’s This Morning to talk about this exact issue. He said that the best thing to do, wherever you are in the world, is to pay in local currency to avoid inflated fees.

Anyone who’s jetting off this summer will want to know about a fairly new safety rule that you must follow when you’re on board.

Going on holiday is always an exciting time, but there’s a lot of reasons that they can be stressful too. For many people, the flight itself is a source of anxiety, while others aren’t keen on the packing, the security process or the bag regulations.

I love a trip abroad, and although I can sometimes get nervous during takeoff and landing – as I’m sure many people do – I try to push it aside because I know there’s a holiday waiting for me at the other end.

If I can afford it, I’ll go on two or three holidays a year, so I like to think I’m pretty savvy when it comes to knowing what to pack, how big your bag can be, and just having a general know-how about the process. But on my most recent holiday, I was shocked to hear a safety announcement onboard that I’d literally never heard before, and it really threw a spanner in the works.

Picture the scene – it’s 5.30am, I’ve had three hours of sleep, two coffees down in Manchester Airport and I’m about to board my flight to Bilbao. Because I’ve desperately been trying to keep myself awake, I’ve been scrolling endlessly, so by the time I’m sat in my seat, my phone battery is looking a little unhealthy.

Luckily I’ve got a portable charger in my bag, ready to give my phone a much-needed boost. It’s been a rule for a while now that you can’t pack these in your checked luggage due to the potential danger from lithium ion batteries, but it’s always handier to have them in your hand luggage anyway.

But as the safety announcements kicked off, I was very surprised to hear that on this easyJet flight, you couldn’t use portable chargers at all.

Why can’t you use portable chargers on flights?

This was the first I’d heard of power banks being completely banned from use onboard flights. However, it’s clear to see in the ‘dangerous goods’ section of the easyJet website, which says they can’t be used to charge other devices.

They also must be ‘individually protected’ like placed in original retail packaging or a plastic bag, and customers are only allowed a maximum of two each.

Explaining why the rules are so strict, Jonathan Nicholson from the Civil Aviation Authority told BBC News that compared to the likes of digital cameras and laptops, “power banks have a much bigger battery, much stronger and get a lot hotter”.

“These things, when they catch fire, they go – they really go – they are big, big issues and big fires,” he added.

This makes total sense, and it obviously explains why most airlines have banned portable chargers in hold luggage – it was only a matter of time before they were banned from being used on planes too.

It’s worth noting that they are not outright prohibited – you just can’t use them, on easyJet flights anyway. So it’s definitely worth making sure you’re fully charged before you board, and don’t make the same mistake I did.

Which airlines have banned power banks?

As well as easyJet, several other airlines have started to enforce strict rules surrounding power banks. British Airways recently tightened its regulations – they must display the capacity rating information, they can’t exceed exceed 100Wh and they must be stored either in the seat pocket or in a bag placed under the seat in front.

Emirates has outright banned the use of power banks on all flights, nor can you plug the power bank into the seat’s power supply to charge it.

Most other airlines, such as Ryanair, Jet2 and TUI, do allow you to use them on board – just not during taxi, takeoff and landing, and restrictions can apply on the wattage. And you’re definitely not allowed to pack them in your hold luggage under any circumstances.

It’s recommended to check with the airline you’re flying with if you’re not sure, but always better safe than sorry.

Built in 1875 and modelled on the Chapelle Saint-Marc in Lyon, the church was originally intended to be the chapel for St Joseph University, which was opened by French Jesuits as part of France’s colonial-era “civilising mission”.

Its pale stone facade rises above a busy Beirut street. Today, it remains under Jesuit stewardship, with Father Michael Petro leading the parish.

“It’s an interesting space, because it is on the edge of Ashrafieh, a predominantly Christian, francophone area, which has plenty of wealthy Lebanese people living in it. But it also has their domestic workers. From the start of the first waves of migrants in the 70s, this place became known as a place for them,” he tells Al Jazeera.

Every Sunday, during peacetime, the gravel car park is transformed into a cricket ground. Indian and Pakistani migrant workers play softball cricket while families sit on the sidelines sharing home-cooked food, catching up with friends and enjoying one of their few days away from work.

Today, the atmosphere is very different.

Instead of the crack of a plastic bat and Bollywood music spilling across the church grounds, rows of mattresses line the floors, and laundry hangs from railings. Men slouch on plastic chairs littered around the church, scrolling through their phones. Women carry blankets and washed clothes in plastic tubs. Only the children seem able to break the subdued mood, darting between adults and filling the space with bursts of laughter.

“When the war escalated, we immediately had large groups of Sudanese and South Sudanese come here,” Father Michael says. “They showed up because they would ask community leaders what to do, and were told to come here, as it is the first place they trusted.

“On one hand, that’s very beautiful, because people thought they would be welcome here, and they were.”

However, the strain of being a first port of call for so many displaced migrants is beginning to show.

Supplies are low, and tensions occasionally flare among those sheltering at the church. Father Michael says the church reached its capacity of 250 people on just the second day of the war.

“We’ve turned away more than 100 people in the last few days,” he says. “It’s a disaster.”

Mohammad says daily life has become increasingly difficult, particularly since the arrival of their son.

“We do not have enough clothes, especially now that the baby is growing. Also, my wife’s nutrition is not great. Sometimes she gets constipated, and then the baby becomes ill. We need more protein and vegetables. The diet is a huge concern.”

Living in crowded conditions, surrounded by uncertainty, has taken a toll on people’s mental wellbeing, Rufaida says.

“Because of the atmosphere and mental health problems, small problems become big ones. I said good morning to someone, and they didn’t like it. There are no big fights, but there is an underlying tension.”

Both say they understand why tempers sometimes fray. Many of those sheltering at the church have fled war, lost homes and spent months or years living with uncertainty.

Small problems become big ones.

by RUFAIDA, DISPLACED SUDANESE MOTHER

Their gratitude is rooted partly in what happened when Rufaida sought maternity care.

At Karatina Hospital, they say they were repeatedly overlooked by doctors in favour of Lebanese patients. “We were there to get papers so she could give birth in that hospital, but we were ignored, and Lebanese people were allowed into consultations first,” Mohammad says.

After waiting for three hours, a worker from the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS), who had accompanied them to the hospital, intervened and helped ensure they were seen.

Through support coordinated by JRS and partner organisations, the entire cost of Rufaida’s pregnancy was covered, including prenatal care, the cesarean delivery and Ahmad’s vaccinations.

“It gave me comfort and peace that I was able to deliver in a safe environment,” Rufaida says.

Their experience is increasingly common among Sudanese migrants in Lebanon, many of whom have found themselves uprooted more than once — first by war in Sudan and then by conflict in Lebanon.

Rufaida’s story is far from unique. According to figures published by the International Organization for Migration (IOM) in August 2025, there are 164,097 migrants living in Lebanon, of which 14,854 are Sudanese nationals.

That number represents only a small fraction of the 4.4 million Sudanese who have fled their country since the outbreak of civil war in April 2023.

Some, like Rufaida, arrived on tourist visas. Others found jobs as concierges or domestic workers, under Lebanon’s kafala sponsorship system, which ties a migrant worker’s legal residency to their employer.

Human Rights Watch has described the system as, at its worst, a form of modern slavery.

About 3,800 Sudanese have also found asylum in Lebanon as registered refugees with the UN Refugee Agency.

For refugees in Lebanon, a UNHCR registration card can mean far more than a piece of paper. It offers a measure of protection from detention or deportation, can unlock access to aid and education where services exist, and, for many, represents their best hope of one day being resettled in another country.

Among them is 30-year-old Roudaina Mustafa.

A leopard storms into a store in Rajasthan, India, attacking an employee and causing panic. The leopard was trapped, tranquilised and returned to the wild.

Chris, 34, was holidaying in Salou when he filmed the video. He said that some people had been in the queue for an hour

Holidaymakers were filmed in a “manic race” for the prime sunbeds surrounding the pool at a Spanish hotel — after queuing for an hour. Chris, 34, was on holiday in Salou, Spain, last week when he witnessed the spectacle unfold on June 24, as over 40 tourists rushed out.

The holidaymakers had been standing by the doors for an hour before the pool opened at 9am. Chris, from Glasgow, Scotland, said he observed the sun-seekers lining up at the doors on each day of his week-long break.

He said tourists would dash out, reserve a sunbed with their towel and belongings before heading back inside for breakfast. Chris found the spectacle amusing but thought it was somewhat unfair that nobody else would manage to get a sunbed for the entire day.

Chris, from Glasgow, Scotland, said: “It was a manic race and scramble for the sunbeds surrounding the pool at the hotel. I don’t judge but found it funny so had to film it.

“Some people just rolled out their bed, queued up, mad-dashed to secure the bed then they were seen going back to their hotel rooms or off for breakfast.”

“It doesn’t leave room for those who don’t queue for an hour.”

It was midnight on April 12 when Modu Baluye woke to the sound of gunfire.

He was asleep with his family inside a classroom at Government Girls’ Secondary School (GGSS), in Monguno, Borno’s north, in northeastern Nigeria, which now serves as a temporary displacement camp, when the first shots rang out. Then came another burst, and another, cutting through the night in rapid succession.

“These people are attacking again,” he remembered saying.

He whispered a prayer and stayed awake. Around him, other displaced families were stirring as well. In the darkness, people listened without speaking, measuring the distance of the violence by the sound of the guns. The attack went on for hours.

By Modu’s account, the gunshots lasted about four hours. He later learned it was a gun battle between terrorists and military officers at the nearby Sector 3 base. As the troops pursued the terrorists along the exit route between Gana Ali, another displacement shelter, and the GGSS, they drove over buried explosives, which detonated and killed the commanding officer and six other soldiers.

By morning, fear had settled over the communities.

The military, residents said, became suspicious of the settlements around the base. The attackers had entered on foot under the cover of darkness, and the communities were not far from the military formation.

“They suspected we were hiding some of them,” Modu said. In the days that followed, soldiers raided Gana Ali and the GGSS camp. Residents told HumAngle that five suspected informants in the communities were arrested, and weapons were recovered. Then came an order for the communities to leave.

“They told us: leave or we will kill you all and burn down your houses,” Modu recounted. Within two days, families began dismantling their makeshift shelters. They packed what they could carry and left. Some were moved to a government settlement on the outskirts of Monguno, along the Monguno-Gajiram road, which is about a 30-minute walk from town.

“It is two weeks today,” Modu said when he spoke to HumAngle on May 10. “The place was torched after we left. I am not sure who torched the buildings.”

For Modu, displacement is not new. He fled Ala, his village in the Marte Local Government Area (LGA) of the state, in 2016 as insurgent violence spread across northern Borno. At the time, he was unmarried and found refuge with his parents at the ‘Water Board’ displacement camp in Monguno, where they lived for about six months. He later moved to the GGSS settlement after securing his own shelter and spent nearly a decade there. In 2024, he got married. By the time soldiers ordered residents to leave the community in April, he had begun building a mud house on a piece of land he purchased the previous year. It was there, in the unfinished house, that he and his family began rebuilding their lives after years of displacement.

A war returning to the bases

The Monguno attack came during a renewed wave of terror assaults on military formations and rural settlements across Borno.

In recent months, terrorists from Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad (JAS), commonly known as Boko Haram, and the Islamic State West Africa (ISWAP) have repeatedly targeted troops, bases, weapons, and supply routes. The attacks have killed soldiers, including senior military officers, and Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) members. 

In Nov. 2025, terrorists ambushed a military convoy along the Damboa-Biu road. Two soldiers and two CJTF members were killed. Brigadier-General M. Uba, commander of the 25 Task Force Brigade, was abducted and later killed.

On Jan. 26, terrorists attacked a military base in Damasak, killing seven soldiers and capturing 13 others, including the commanding officer. Eleven later escaped. Five days later, on Jan. 31, another terror attack on an army base in Sabon Gari killed nine soldiers and two CJTF members; about 16 injured security personnel were evacuated for treatment.

On March 10, a military base in Kukawa came under attack; the commanding officer, Lt. Col. Umar Farouq, and several of his soldiers were killed. 

On April 9, three days before the Monguno attack, terrorists launched a joint assault on the headquarters of the 29 Task Force Brigade in Benisheikh, killing its brigade commander, Brigadier-General Oseni Braimah.

The attacks have already weakened the military formations in rural areas. In some places, troops have withdrawn or consolidated around larger garrison towns, leaving smaller settlements more exposed. But when soldiers are killed, residents say the anger does not end on the battlefield. It returns with the troops.

The trails of suspicion

In rural Borno, civilians are often trapped between two armed powers. Terrorists demand information about troop movements, military positions, and security operations. Soldiers, in turn, demand information about insurgent hideouts, movements, and informants. Refusing either side can be deadly.

Those suspected of helping the military may be abducted or killed by the terrorists. Those suspected of helping terrorists may be arrested, detained, displaced, or punished by security forces. As a result, civilians often face impossible choices, with serious consequences regardless of whom they cooperate with.

Despite these risks, communities have at times provided intelligence to the military. In March, for example, residents of Doro, a rural community in Kukawa LGA on the shores of Lake Chad, reportedly alerted troops after observing suspicious insurgent movements, helping security forces prepare for an attack.

The consequences of such actions can be severe. In March 2022, ISWAP executed four civilians in communities within the same local government area after accusing them of spying for government troops. Residents said the killings were intended to deter others from sharing information with security forces. For many civilians, the message was clear: speaking to the military could carry a death sentence. 

The Chief of Defence Staff (CDS), Gen. Olufemi Oluyede, recently argued that residents in Borno and Yobe knew some of those behind the attacks during an operational visit to Maiduguri in March, reflecting a long-held security assumption that residents in affected communities often know more than they admit. The CDS said communities must take ownership of the crisis, citing Kukawa, where he claimed two of the attackers were from within the village.

But for many civilians, knowing does not mean consenting. They say  in places where terrorists move freely, buy food, collect supplies, and threaten residents, silence is often a currency for survival.

Professor Abubakar Mu’azu, former director of the Centre for Peace, Development, and Diplomatic Studies at the University of Maiduguri, said this suspicion has existed since the early years of the insurgency.

“Right from the start, there was suspicion by the security agencies that the people who are living in areas where these terrorist activities were happening are also supporting the terrorists,” he said. “They never considered the fact that there is a majority of people who disagree with these terrorists’ activities.”

Mu’azu said the reactionary nature of security operations has prevented the military from building a reliable system of trust with local communities.

“They assume that the locals are giving information to the terrorists willingly,” he said. “But they keep saying they want the people to give them information about the terrorists.”

For him, this contradiction is at the heart of the crisis.

The military needs civilian intelligence to fight terrorism, but if civilians fear that any contact with terrorists, even under duress, will be treated as collaboration, they may stop speaking altogether.

Life under duress

In Monguno, residents say terrorists still move in and out of town despite the presence of security forces.

Koso Abubakar, a displaced farmer, said the terrorists often enter on motorcycles, buy food items, and leave.

“They come and leave at will,” he said. “Sometimes, they come to kidnap people. They don’t attack the military, and the military does not confront them. But on other days, they attack the military. That is when the military retaliates.”

According to Koso, most residents live with the knowledge that they can be accused by either side at any time.

“People are living in fear because everyone is a potential target,” he said.

In many rural communities, even work has become dangerous. A farmer going to his field, a fisher heading towards the water, or a trader moving goods through bush paths may first have to pay those who control the routes. The payments are called taxes, levies, or sometimes simply “settlement”, but residents understand what they are: money paid under fear. To refuse is to risk punishment, in lighter cases, or killing and abduction, in extreme cases, from terrorists. To pay is to risk being seen by soldiers as someone sustaining the insurgency. In this way, even the small acts people perform to feed their families can become evidence against them.

Professor Mu’azu said this fear terrorists use violence to discipline communities.

“They are very good at setting a very deadly example by killing or eliminating people, with or without evidence,” he said. “If they are attacked by security agencies and they did not hear anything from people living in these settlements, they would assume the people gave information about their positions.”

This was what many residents believe happened in Ngoshe in March, when terrorists attacked the community, killed many residents, and abducted others, including women and children. The attack was suspected to be retaliation for a previous military operation in the Mandara Mountains that killed some terrorist commanders. The terrorists reportedly believed residents had given up their location.

For civilians, the lesson is brutal: giving information can kill you. Not giving information can also kill you.

When protection becomes punishment

The military has long accused some civilians of aiding terrorists.  In the early years of the war, many young men were arbitrarily detained. Some disappeared. Some were killed. In April 2014, soldiers arrested 42 adult men from Gallari, a village in the Konduga LGA of Borno, on suspicion of links to the insurgency. They were taken to the Giwa Barracks detention facility in Maiduguri. Twelve years later, only three have regained their freedom after years in detention and alleged torture. Through months of on-the-ground investigation and analysis of satellite imagery, HumAngle has also previously reported on disappearances and mass graves linked to military operations, while the wives of detained and disappeared men later formed the Knifar Women movement to demand justice.

For communities already carrying the memory of those years, new raids and forced evacuations reopen old wounds.

Mu’azu said security forces should approach communities with more care, especially when allegations of collaboration arise.

“One would assume that when security forces are dealing with situations like this, they would not come with the mindset that the people are sympathetic to the terrorists, or that all the people are giving information to the terrorists,” he said.

He added that soldiers have a difficult job and deserve sympathy for the burden they carry. But he argued that this does not justify indiscriminate punishment.

“They are the ones who are supposed to protect the civilians,” he said. “If there are people they suspect, they should arrest them and hand them over to the police for proper investigation, without compromising the little support they have in the community.”

When communities are burned or displaced after attacks, the consequences go beyond the immediate loss of shelter. Food stocks disappear. Children are pulled out of school. Families scatter. People who had already fled violence once are forced to flee again.

In resettled or displaced communities, where people have spent years coping, another displacement can mean the collapse of everything they had slowly rebuilt.

A dangerous silence

After the Monguno raid, Koso said some residents became so afraid of the military that they fled into the bush.

“Many people, about 30, also left for the bush,” he said. “Most of them fear the military. The military does not trust them.”

Mu’azu warned that this kind of fear can damage counterterrorism efforts.

“They will lose trust, respect, and block chances of receiving information,” he said. “This could also push them to be recruited by the terrorists.”

For Mu’azu, the solution is not to abandon intelligence work, but to make it safer and more systematic. He said the military should cultivate trusted informants within communities, create secure channels of communication, and protect residents when terrorists retaliate.

“This is the gap,” he said. “Oftentimes, communities are attacked after successful military operations. The patterns should be studied. They should do a statistical analysis. They should be mindful of the time and be prepared against such actions.”

He also called for stronger collaboration among the military, DSS, police, civil defence, and intelligence agencies in neighbouring countries such as Cameroon, Chad, and Niger, because terrorists move across borders.

But for Modu and others displaced from Gana Ali and the GGSS, these policy questions remain distant. What they know is simpler: they fled one danger and met another. They were told to leave the place they had made into a home. Then they watched, or heard, that what remained had been burned.

In Borno’s war, civilians are often asked to prove their loyalty to the state while surviving under the shadow of terrorists, and in that narrow space between fear and suspicion, many are losing everything.

The last time Abdullahi Alabi heard from his friend, Oluwafemi Adeyemo, it was a voice note. “I dey Terminus… I sey make I update you,” his friend said in Nigerian Pidgin. He was restocking his foodstuffs at the market, but he never came back.

Abdullahi and Oluwafemi had been friends and coursemates since they came on campus. “We became brothers, I knew his family, he knew mine,” Abdullahi said.

Two days before that, on March 29, terrorists had opened fire on residents and passersby at Angwan Rukuba, a busy roadside community in Jos, Plateau State, North Central Nigeria, killing at least 30 people. The Plateau State government immediately clamped a 48-hour curfew on Jos North, the kind of precaution the city has learned, through painful experience, to take, given how quickly such attacks can tip into ethno-religious reprisal violence.

When the curfew lifted on April 1, Oluwafemi, a final-year Quantity Survey student at the University of Jos (UNIJOS), had just received his upkeep allowance from the Nigerian Education Loan Fund (NELFUND). He headed to Terminus Market that morning, a 15-minute tricycle ride from where he and Abdullahi lived, to buy foodstuffs.

What made Abdullahi check his phone that morning was hearing that something was happening around Terminus. He wanted to know if his friends were alright. That was when he saw the voice note.

“I actually did not take it that seriously,” he said. But as the updates on social media got worse, he started calling. Oluwafemi’s number was not going through. He and other friends kept trying.

By evening, Oluwafemi had not returned and was still unreachable. Abdullahi called the family, who said he had not been in touch with them either. “I took permission from the family to file a missing person report, and we also made a post on social media,” he said.

Then another of Oluwafemi’s friends reached out. She sent Abdullahi a screenshot of her last chat with him. He had told her there was a fight at Terminus, that he had escaped, and that he had made it to Bauchi Road, near the university’s Main Campus. After that, nothing.

The next day, Abdullahi and other friends went from one police station to another. On the third day, they started checking mortuaries. That afternoon, a call came asking them to come to the Jos University Teaching Hospital to identify a body.

“When we got there, it was his body,” Abdullahi said, with a sigh. “He was attacked at Bauchi Junction. According to the autopsy, he sustained a gunshot wound to his back and was macheted as well.” He added that they were told that the police officers who brought his corpse to the hospital had intervened. The identities of the perpetrators remain unknown.

Oluwafemi was one of at least eight people killed in reprisal attacks that swept through Jos on 1 April, after the night of terror at Angwan Rukuba took on an ethno-religious colouration.

“Femi was ready to make a change in the world,” Abdullahi said. “A few days before his death, he sent a voice note in a group lamenting about how Nigeria is bad and what he thinks needs to be done to fix the challenges.” He never got the chance.

In that same voice note, obtained by HumAngle, Oluwafemi turned his frustration toward the government’s response to the recurring violence. Precautions like curfews, he said, were not enough. “What has curfew done?” he asked. “Make we speak up, abi na until dem kill everybody finish.”

Oluwafemi is not the first UNIJOS student the city has claimed. With over 40,000 students – according to its website – living and studying in Jos’s most volatile neighbourhoods, the university community has, for more than two decades, been one of the most consistent casualties of the city’s recurring violence. And with no meaningful change in how students are protected, many fear it is only a matter of time before the next name is added to the list.

Caught in harm’s way

To understand why Oluwafemi’s death is not an isolated tragedy, it helps to know the city he was living in. To outsiders, the speed with which violence can spread across Jos often appears bewildering. Yet the city has endured recurring cycles of conflict for more than two decades, fuelled by a complex mix of ethno-religious tensions, disputes over indigene-settler identities, political representation, land ownership, and access to resources. While many incidents are framed as clashes between Christians and Muslims, residents and researchers have long argued that the roots of the conflict run deeper than religion alone.

“…as is often the case with identity conflicts in Africa, these are socially constructed stereotypes that are manipulated to trigger and drive violence in Jos,” said Prof. Chris Kwaja, a Researcher at the Centre for Conflict Management and Peace Studies at the University of Jos, Nigeria, who also serves as the Plateau State’s Special Envoy on Peace and Security. 

“The ethnic or religious dimensions of the conflict have subsequently been misconstrued as the primary driver of violence when, in fact, disenfranchisement, inequality, and other practical fears are the real root causes. Capitalising on such conditions, many political rivals have instrumentalised the ethnic and religious diversity of Jos to manipulate and mobilise support. Each outbreak of violence worsens suspicions and renders communal reconciliation more difficult, deepening the cycle and further incentivising polarisation,” he noted. 

Over the years, many neighbourhoods have become identified with particular ethnic and religious communities, creating a city that is deeply polarised along social and geographic lines. Areas such as Angwan Rukuba, Terminus, Bauchi Road, and other mixed communities often function as fault lines where residents from different backgrounds live, trade, commute, and study side by side. When violence breaks out, fear, rumours, and reprisals can quickly travel beyond the immediate scene of an attack, drawing in people who had no connection to the original incident.

For students of the UNIJOS whose campuses, hostels, and daily routines are woven into these communities, that vulnerability is particularly acute. A journey to class, the market, or a friend’s place can suddenly become dangerous when the city descends into unrest.

Jos North is where most of the university’s campuses sit, including the Township Campus, Bauchi Road Campus, Naraguta Campus, the Jos University Teaching Hospital, staff quarters, and other facilities. Student hostels, both university-owned and private, are scattered all across the area. Angwan Rukuba, where the March 29 attack happened, is one of the neighbourhoods with the highest concentration of students. Meanwhile, Terminus Market, which borders it, has long been an epicentre of violence in the city.

Several residents and students who spoke to HumAngle said the university community is always caught in the middle when violence breaks out, which is hardly surprising, given how deeply the campuses and student hostels are woven into those areas.

Although no comprehensive data exists on the total number of students killed across incidents, HumAngle’s research — drawing on interviews with students and staff, as well as archival news reports — indicates that at least five students have died in every major episode of violence, and often significantly more.

In 2018, Shedrach ‘Kums’ Fenan, a 300-level Law student, was shot and killed by a stray military bullet near the Students’ Village Hostel during a similar crisis. That same year, the bodies of several students were found floating in nearby rivers. 

Plangna’an Daor, who studied law at UNIJOS and now works as team lead of the post-conflict rehabilitation and recovery desk at the Plateau Peacebuilding Agency, knew Kums personally. 

“I still remember how we were all glued to social media, checking on friends in different parts of Jos, asking questions and trying to understand what was happening,” she told HumAngle. “Imagine finding out that the student was someone you knew personally, someone with immense potential.” As an executive leader of the National Association of Plateau State Students at the time, she travelled with other students for the burial. “It was a stark reminder that students are not merely observers of conflict; they can become direct victims of it,” she said.

Aondona Kwaghaondo, a medical student at the university, almost lost his life when a mob attacked him in August 2021, along the Bauchi Road near the Naraguta Hostels, which sits between major university communities. “It was a very traumatising experience; till this day I am a bit triggered by similar sights and sounds,” he said. Aondona survived, but he sustained several injuries from the attack. 

During one of the crises, while she was a student, Plangna’an lived off campus near Dariye Park, barely 100 metres away from the main gate of the Naraguta Campus. “I remember the tension of that period vividly,” she said. “We could hear gunshots at night and constantly monitored developments around us.” 

The fear was not abstract. During that same period, Plangna’an narrated that a young man attempting to reach Bauchi Road Junction was stabbed after ignoring a neighbour’s warning and was brought to her compound, where a medical student provided first aid before he could be taken to the hospital. “The atmosphere was one of constant fear and uncertainty,” Plangna’an recalled. Her roommates told her, “This is not the time to sleep in a nightie. Wear trousers. Wear something that, if we have to wake up and run, you can simply get up and leave.”

She also highlights a dimension of the crisis that is easy to overlook: the particular vulnerability of students like Adeyemo, who are from outside Plateau State. “Those of us from Plateau State at least had some understanding of the context,” she said. “But imagine students who came from other states and had no understanding of the local dynamics. They arrived expecting a safe learning environment and suddenly found themselves navigating fear, insecurity, displacement, and uncertainty.” Many students, she notes, are simply unfamiliar with which areas are considered high-risk during periods of tension, and which routes should be avoided. 

Prof. Lazarus Maigoro, former chairperson of the Academic Staff Union of Universities (ASUU) UNIJOS chapter, said the pattern has left the university community exasperated. “We have suffered untold damages in relation to loss of lives and property… each time there is a security breach in Jos, and as a union, we have tried to understand how the university community is always at the receiving end of each crisis in Jos,” he said. 

“In spite of all the provocations, we have continued to offer community service to all, irrespective of religion, culture and tribe; the university administration has, over the years, made overtures to host communities in terms of undergraduate admissions and staff employment, yet our students and staff are killed at the slightest provocation, however far the epicentre of the crisis from the institution.” 

Plangna’an, who now works on post-conflict recovery, points to structural factors that compound the danger. The communities surrounding the university include areas with high concentrations of informal settlements, illegal structures, motor parks, and markets. “Some of these spaces have become hideouts for criminals, street gangs, drug users, and other vulnerable groups susceptible to recruitment into violence and extremism,” she said. Students living off-campus must pass through these environments daily.

As Prof. Maigoro noted, the attacks not only threaten the security of life and property within the university community but also disrupt the academic calendar, causing students to spend more than the stipulated number of years to complete their programmes. “Some who were meant to spend four years will end up doing six, that is, if there are no labour union strikes,” said Liamhuan Akpenmo, a student of the university’s Faculty of Education. 

For instance, Adeyemo got admission in 2019, but by the time of his death, he had spent seven years on a five-year programme, his progress interrupted by the COVID-19 lockdown and the 2021 crisis that forced the university to close.

The evacuation

When the situation following the March 29 incident worsened, the university management rescheduled the semester examinations and placed academic and related activities on hold.  Prof. Ishaya Tanko, the vice-chancellor, also announced the evacuation of students from hostels, in collaboration with the Plateau State government.

In the days that followed, specifically from April 2, other state governments and private individuals began sending dozens of buses to evacuate students who were indigenes or residents of those states. More than 1600 students were reportedly evacuated by about seven state governments, including Benue, Delta, and Kaduna. Such arrangements are often collaborations with state student union groups and relevant state government ministries.

“It was all familiar,” said Liamhuan, a student who first experienced a similar evacuation in 2021. She and her younger sister, who is also a student, left for Benue; other students travelled as far as Lagos.

Then, even as the crisis was still unfolding, the university management announced that examinations would go ahead. “It was abrupt,” said Liamhuan. The city was not yet safe. A 6 p.m. curfew was still in effect. In one press statement issued around that time, the Student Union Government advised students to either split their journey into two legs or arrive early enough to beat the curfew. Social media was still full of missing-person posters.

“Let me state clearly that since the beginning of the crisis, no single breach of the peace was recorded on any of our campuses,” the Vice Chancellor said at a press briefing. But students like Oluwafemi, who died during the incident, were attacked in areas immediately surrounding the university, a distinction that offered little comfort to those who had lost someone.

For instance, in August 2021, at the peak of a similar crisis, a 100-level microbiology student of the university was murdered by a mob at a filling station, near Dariye Park – where Plangna’an lived – which is located adjacent to the university. 

HumAngle reached out to Emmanuel Madugu, the university’s Deputy Registrar for Information and Public Relations, for comment on how the university intends to prevent casualties among students and staff. Madugu acknowledged the request and indicated that he would respond after consulting the relevant units, but had not done so at the time of publication.

An alumnus of the university with knowledge of security matters, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said there is only so much the institution can do. When students and staff are attacked outside the university environment, he noted, the university’s hands are largely tied. The responsibility, he argued, falls primarily on the state and federal governments to secure the city.

For Liamhuan, the management’s decision to continue with the session reflected a pattern she had seen before. “I prefer to leave because the school environment does not feel safe, and everywhere feels threatened. So, home is where I feel safe, and if anything happens to you, it is you and your family that will bear the burden.” She added that the situation is even more difficult for students like herself who live off campus, largely due to a lack of sufficient student hostels.

“Even those on campus are not protected,” Liamhuan added. She once lived in one of the student hostels at the Naraguta Campus before moving off campus. “Students are still attacked by mobs when they are close to the school facilities.” Aondona’s testimony confirms this. Additionally, a viral video during the recent incident showed a man who was attacked right at the entrance of the university’s Naraguta Campus, which houses the administrative building and most of the faculties and student residences.

Although armed security posts existed near university campuses around 2017 and 2018, HumAngle observed that most of those posts no longer exist, and security is now mostly provided by unarmed officers of the university’s Security Division. More recently, through the Tertiary Education Trust Fund, a police station was constructed at the Naraguta Hostels Gate, along the Jos-Bauchi Road, but students say it is insufficient.

When HumAngle visited the campus in June, no police officers were seen on the grounds, but an unarmed Security Division security guard was at the gate.

For Abdullahi, authorities do not need to wait for violence to break out before they start mapping how to protect the students and the rest of the university community. “If there are checkpoints at flashpoints like Bauchi Road, when a crisis starts, there will be an immediate response, ensuring that killings are avoided,” he said, adding that surveillance cameras can also be installed.  

During a condolence visit to Plateau State after the March 29 attack, Nigeria’s President, Bola Tinubu, disclosed that the Federal Government would deploy an artificial intelligence-enabled network of over 5,000 digital cameras to help law enforcement agencies combat insecurity in the state. At the time of this report, the project had yet to commence. 

The General Officer Commanding of the 3rd Division, Maxwell Khobe Cantonment, Major Gen. Eyitayo Oyinlola, visited the university during the recent incident “to assure the Vice Chancellor of the Division’s high priority of securing the University in the face of threats to the lives of its community”. But students who were on campus during the incident said little to no security was actually provided.

Younglan Taylong, the university’s Student Union Government president, did not respond to requests for comment. However, students who spoke to HumAngle, including Abdullahi, say the union was supportive during the crisis, providing information, aid, and evacuation support to students.

In the absence of protection, students have had to fend for themselves. Another student, a recent graduate who declined to give his name for fear, recalled that during tense periods, particularly in 2021, students would mobilise to act as a vigilante force around the hostels at night. 

“Sometimes, we will just carry kitchen knives, I do not even know what we were thinking,” he said.

What can be done?

For those who have spent years studying or working on the crisis, the frustrating reality is that the recommendations are not new. The Greater Jos Master Plan already includes provisions to relocate illegal motor parks, markets, and informal settlements away from critical public institutions, such as the university. Similar proposals have appeared repeatedly across various commissions of inquiry. “Many remain unimplemented,” Plangna’an said. “There is a need for greater political will to translate these recommendations into reality.”

Among the measures she and others who spoke to HumAngle advocated for are: the establishment of a Mobile Police barracks or dedicated security formation near the university; the construction of additional student hostels to reduce the number of students living off-campus; the strengthening and securing of perimeter fencing at the Permanent Site to control access and deter encroachment; and the provision of secure shuttle bus services for students living off-campus. “While no transport system is completely immune to attack, organised transportation would significantly reduce students’ exposure to risk,” she added. 

The post-conflict rehabilitation and recovery expert also calls for dualising major roads around the university and constructing an interchange at the Bauchi Road junction — a congested gateway into the state that regularly creates both mobility and security problems. Beyond infrastructure, she argues for sustained investment in peacebuilding programmes that directly involve students, university staff, and surrounding communities, including support for those living with the psychological aftermath of violence. “There are many students who continue to live with trauma from experiences they have had as victims or witnesses of violence,” she said. “These experiences can affect academic performance, mental health, and overall well-being.”

Plangna’an insists the approach must shift from reactive to preventive. “Every time violence occurs, similar recommendations are made, yet implementation remains weak,” she said. “Early warning without early response has limited value.” 

Until that changes, students and experts who spoke to HumAngle say that the university community will remain, as it has been for more than two decades, caught in the crossfire. 

George Russell’s admission after qualifying that he has been struggling to maximise the Mercedes car all season felt like a seminal moment in the championship fight.

Russell pointed to driving style, saying Antonelli had struggled in last year’s car and now he was struggling in this one.

Until then, Russell had looked for external reasons to explain his difficult start to the season.

There have, indeed, been many.

He suffered a gearbox problem and then a front-wing issue in qualifying in China, which may well have denied him pole.

The safety-car timing in Japan handed the victory to Antonelli, and vaulted him ahead of Russell.

It’s a bit of a stretch, however, to claim Russell would have won in Japan without that, because McLaren’s Oscar Piastri led the first stint, and stopped in the same window as Russell before the safety car, and Russell didn’t pass the Australian all race.

And in Canada, Russell was leading when his MGU-K failed to cause his retirement.

At the same time, the reason Russell’s admission felt important is the impression for some time is that he has been struggling to keep up.

In China, Antonelli had the same front-wing issue as Russell on his final run – albeit his session was not disrupted in other ways, as Russell’s was – and still claimed pole.

And after both dropped behind the Ferraris at the start, Antonelli’s race-craft was much more decisive in passing them.

In Japan, Antonelli was on pole, and dropped back only because of a poor start. And such was his pace on medium tyres in the first stint of the race that Mercedes felt he was on target to run longer and claim the lead anyway, even without the safety car.

In Miami, there was no argument, Antonelli was simply faster. And although Russell took pole for the sprint and grand prix in Canada, won the sprint and was leading the grand prix when he broke down, Antonelli was all over him in both races and looked faster. The destiny of the win in Montreal was far from certain when Russell retired.

In a way, Russell’s decision to finally admit he is struggling might be a good thing.

Last year, Lando Norris was in a similar position at McLaren. Having beaten Piastri convincingly in 2024, and so entered 2025 as favourite, Norris struggled with the characteristics of the car in the early part of the season.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

With assiduous work from Norris himself, and also from the team – both technically in terms of making changes to the car, but also psychologically in helping Norris get on top of his situation mentally – he bounced back and won the title.

Russell is in a difficult place, 68 points behind Antonelli, but it is far from unrecoverable.

As he put it on Sunday: “I want to get racing now. The season has been disjointed. I still very much believe in myself and know what I can do. I think we’re not even 30% of the way through, but there’s a lot of points down the drain.

“When I look at things objectively, if things were balanced out a little bit more, I still think it would have been very, very close. He’s doing an amazing job, but I think I’d have at least two more victories to my name.

“I still very much believe in myself. I still believe we’re going to be fighting for race wins for the end of this year.”