governance

Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan says Hamas is ready to transfer the governance of Gaza to a committee made up of Palestinians.

Chinese President Xi Jinping places great importance on environmental protection and sustainable development, distinguishing him from previous Chinese leaders who focused solely on economic and social development. It’s worth noting that Xi’s concern for the environment and climate change predates his rise to power in China. From 2000 to 2007, while serving as Party Secretary of Zhejiang Province, he published approximately 232 articles in the provincial newspaper, 22 of which addressed the importance of environmental conservation. This was exceptional at the time, as no other provincial party official routinely promoted environmental protection and sustainable development, and the topic was not a topic of political debate within the Communist Party.

 China is working to maximize its benefits from the global trend toward a green economy by enhancing its image as a global leader in combating climate change. This was evident in China’s establishment of the South-South Climate Cooperation Fund in 2015 and its pledge of approximately 20 billion Chinese yuan (3.1 billion US dollars) to enhance international climate cooperation through the “10-100-1000” initiative. This initiative aims to support developing countries in addressing climate change by developing 10 low-carbon industrial parks, 100 climate change mitigation and adaptation projects, and implementing 1,000 climate-related capacity-building activities.

 In addition, China has announced several initiatives to deepen climate change cooperation through infrastructure projects implemented through the Belt and Road Initiative. For example, in 2022, China announced increased engagement in green transformation efforts with Belt and Road Initiative countries, particularly in the areas of infrastructure and energy.

   A public opinion poll conducted by China’s People’s Daily in February 2021, which included more than 5 million people, showed that climate issues ranked fifth in terms of interest among Chinese social media users, an important indicator of the growing importance of climate change in the consciousness of the Chinese people.

   Air pollution and water scarcity are among China’s most pressing environmental issues. Now, three Chinese government departments are monitoring the climate change, which are the Ministry of Emergency Management, the State Forestry and Grassland Administration, and the China Meteorological Administration. In this context, China has relied extensively on cloud seeding technology to generate rain and reduce pollution levels in the capital, Beijing, ahead of the centenary celebration of the Communist Party on July 1, 2021. This confirms that the Chinese Communist Party has begun to sense the danger of environmental deterioration.

  Faced with some countries going against the trend and withdrawing from the Paris Agreement, China, as a responsible major country, is determined to make arduous efforts in this regard. I think that China should continue to lead by example and further promote global climate governance by raising many Chinese initiatives from various perspectives, such as technology transfer, investment cooperation, multilateral trade, talent cultivation, infrastructure construction, etc. Here, a favorable and open international environment is an essential factor for China’s leadership for global climate governance.

  China affirms its support for global climate governance by committing to achieving carbon neutrality before 2060 and setting ambitious targets for 2035, including reducing greenhouse gas emissions, expanding clean energy use, and deepening international cooperation in green technology and industries. China supports multilateralism and calls for genuine global cooperation to address the challenges of climate change and achieve sustainable development, strengthening its leadership role in efforts to protect the planet.

–            China’s 2035 Climate Goals:

1)       Reducing Greenhouse Gas Emissions:

 Through reducing greenhouse gas emissions by 7-10% from peak levels.

2) Expanding Non-Fossil Energy:

Through increasing the share of non-fossil fuels in total energy consumption to more than 30%.

3)       Promoting Renewable Energy:

Through increasing installed wind and solar power capacity sixfold compared to 2020 levels, reaching 3,600 gigawatts.

4) Enhancing Forest Reserves:

Through increasing the total forest reserve to more than 24 billion cubic meters.

5) Shifting to New Energy Vehicles:

Through making new energy vehicles prevalent in new car sales.

6) Expanding the Carbon Market:

 Through expanding the National Carbon Emissions Trading System to include key high-emission sectors.

7) Building a Climate-Resilient Society:

 Fundamentally establishing a climate-resilient society.

·       The principles and efforts supporting China’s global climate governance efforts are:

1) China’s call for genuine global multilateralism on maintaining climate balance:

 Reaffirming commitment to the principles of multilateralism to enhance international cooperation in addressing climate change.

2)       China’s call for common but differentiated responsibilities on climate change for the developing global South and the international community:

Adhering to the principle of common responsibility while recognizing the different capabilities and circumstances of each country in addressing climate change.

3) China’s Leadership in International Climate Cooperation Efforts:

 Through China’s call for deepening cooperation in green technology and industries to enable all countries to achieve green development.

4) China’s Confrontation with US and Western Unilateral Climate Protectionism:

China warns that unilateral practices weaken the global economy and hinder the sustainable development agenda.

–            China’s Role in Global Climate Governance, through:

1) China’s Leadership in Global Climate Efforts:

Through its commitments, China aims to play a leading role in advancing global efforts toward a sustainable future.

2) China’s Partnership with the United Nations to Maintain Environmental and Climate Balance:

China aspires to play a greater role with the United Nations in addressing global challenges such as climate change and the governance of artificial intelligence.

3) China’s Contribution to a Just Global Climate Order:

Beijing contributes to building a more just and equitable global order and expanding the representation of countries of the Global South in multilateral climate mechanisms.

  Accordingly, we understand that climate change has become one of the most important issues of concern to China at the governmental, popular, and even international levels, and that climate change has become a significant factor in the Chinese political arena. Therefore, China is working to launch numerous international, regional, and local initiatives to contribute to reducing greenhouse gas emissions, thereby improving the environmental conditions of its citizens and developing countries of the Global South in particular, and fulfilling its international commitments in this area.

Yusuf Abdullahi stood beside the only well left in his town, its rim ringed with rust and water tinted a cloudy brown. For decades, the people of Bultu Briya, a village in Nigeria’s northeastern Adamawa State, had pulled their lives from this liquid in the ground, whether drinking, cooking, or watering their animals. But now, he said, the well has turned against them.

When the rains came last year, children who drank from the well fell sick with diarrhoea and clutched their stomachs in pain. The community had no choice but to abandon it forever. 

In Bultu Briya, desertification has seeped into the very veins of the villagers’ lives. Runoff washes through the encroaching sand each rainy season, leaching minerals like potassium into the water and leaving it contaminated, according to villagers, who claim it has made the water poisonous. More than 2,000 people once relied on this well, but many have already gone to nearby towns, across the border into the Niger Republic, and even as far as Libya, chasing survival in places where the sand has not yet stolen the water.

Behind Abdullahi, the desert stretched out in ridges of sand where millet fields once ripened and acacia trees once stood. The land that fed generations is now barren, and its people scattered. 

Bultu Briya was not always like this. Half a century ago, the Sahara Desert stopped far to the north, and life here followed the rhythm of the rains. In the 1980s, families could still fill their granaries with millet and sorghum. Children herded goats through pastures that turned green after the storms, and wells ran deep enough to sustain people and livestock.

That world has since vanished. 

Over the past four decades, the Sahara has expanded by nearly 10 per cent, pushing its southern edge steadily into the Sahel. In Nigeria alone, desertification currently threatens 11 of the country’s 36 states, with dunes advancing at an estimated 0.6 kilometres per year. In Yusufari, a local government area of Yobe State, satellite analysis shows that between 1984 and 2021, vegetation cover shrank by over 90 per cent, while surface water declined by more than 70 per cent.

Land cover change in Yusufari from 1984 to 2021

Graphics by HumAngle/CCIJ (2022), Data: Landsat Landcover analysis

By the early 2020s, the shifting dunes had crept so close to Bultu Briya that fields that were once heavy with grain were reduced to ridges of sand, and the acacia trees that anchored the soil were uprooted one by one.

The sand has already consumed neighbouring villages. In Tulo-Tulo and Bula-Tura, dunes pressed so close that families abandoned their homes. In Zakkari, a town 30 miles away, residents say they have not harvested a whole crop in more than seven years.

“When we were growing up, there was no desert here,” said Mohammed Bukar, 51, who has lived in Zakkari all his life. “As children, we cut grass for our livestock. Now farming is finished. Before, we filled a granary. Now we can’t even fill a sack.”

Scarcity of resources like food and water forced many of his neighbours to leave long ago. Some boarded buses bound for Lagos or Abuja, while others slipped quietly into the Niger Republic, hoping for better soil. Those who remain survive on what little their goats can graze. “We sell our animals just to eat,” Bukar said.

As armed conflict, extremist violence, rural terrorism, and economic despair uproot locals in the heart of the Sahel, a catastrophic climate collapse is accelerating transnational mobility. A HumAngle investigation, involving cross-border reporting and interviews with climate refugees in Nigeria, Cameroon, and the Niger Republic, reveals that the phenomenon driving families away from home is beyond just war, as climate crises toughen up. Matched with open-source analyses and satellite imagery investigation, the on-the-ground reporting shows how desert encroachments, poisoned or vanishing water resources, and extreme weather are making communities unlivable across the Sahel, sparking a refugee crisis driven by a hostile climate.  

The exodus

In many villages across northeastern Nigeria, the story is more chilling: As the desert advances, the farms collapse, the water dries up or becomes contaminated, and people leave. Some journeys are short. Families in Yobe, for instance, walk across the border into the Niger Republic, where relatives have settled in refugee-like encampments. Others are longer and more perilous. In Bultu Briya, 31-year-old Sani Bagira was preparing for his third attempt to reach Libya.

In his first attempt, he walked through Niger to Agadez and then paid smugglers for a ride north. It took him a week to reach Libya. He worked for two years as a farmhand, harvesting tomatoes and melons, before returning home with his savings. But the money was gone. His second journey lasted four years. He says he had no choice but to try again this time. But it was not rosy at their destination either.

“In Libya, they don’t love us,” he said. “They cheat us, they shoot us. You work three months and they throw you out without pay. But at least there, you can eat. Here, nothing.”

He rubbed his palms together, dry and cracked from years of farm work that no longer yields gain. “If we had food and water, we would never go,” he said, sitting on a low stool outside his mud-brick home, referring to his home town in Nigeria, “but here, we would die.” 

In 2022, the United Nations Refugee Agency predicted and warned that countries across the Sahelian states might face a new wave of conflict and mass displacements driven by rising temperatures, resource scarcity, and food insecurity. These predictions are turning into a dangerous reality as described, and the human toll is devastating, as many communities live in ruin or are devoid of human existence.

“Rising temperatures and extreme weather in the Sahel are worsening armed conflict, which is already destroying livelihoods, disrupting food security, and driving displacement,” said the global agency’s Special Advisor for Climate Action, Andrew Harper, in the report. “Only a massive boost in collective climate mitigation and adaptation can alleviate the current and future humanitarian consequences.” 

The report examined 10 Sahelian countries, including Nigeria, Cameroon, Niger, and Senegal. It stated that unchecked climate emergencies like floods, droughts, and heatwaves will force more people to leave their homes for a saner world. 

HumAngle interviewed scores of locals trapped outside their homes, desperately searching for food and water sources, fertile lands and safer places to trade and thrive. While some showed interest in returning home to re-establish their lives, others said home was not a place to return to, as it reeks of ruins and devastation. 

Lukmon Akintola, the knowledge associate at the Global Centre for Climate Mobility, elaborated on the UN Refugee Agency’s predictions, stressing that transboundary climate migration is not the real problem but the lack of management on the part of authorities. The climate mobility expert believes that the best way to contain the climate-driven refugee crisis is to have conscious policies, such as planned relocation and climate adaptation schemes. He said that transboundary crises might emanate from these movements without conscious efforts. 

“Why are they moving? The lack of water? Build boreholes for them. Why do they want to move? There is desert encroachment. How can we build trees? But while we are trying to do that, do we have some sustainable solutions? Building trees is a nature-based solution,” he advised, noting that the government can adopt short-term solutions while planting trees for the long term.

“One way to manage people moving in and out is to help them adapt to their current location. Invest in adaptation strategies, starting from a blueprint or a policy, but also, like I said, engage with them. What do you want? Would you like to migrate? So I’m saying that even if they want to move, it will be because their agency decides to, and they are moving with the right knowledge.”

‘Without water, there’s no life’

Water is the difference between staying in one’s place and leaving in much of the Sahel; in Yobe State, it is the difference between life and death.

At the abandoned well in Bultu Briya, 45-year-old Yaana Mohammed pointed to the empty shaft. Built decades ago with World Bank funds, the well is now condemned. Villagers stopped using it after the water killed four animals: a ram, a cow, and two goats.

The well is located beside a potassium-contaminated pond, which leaves its water tinged with potassium. 

“It is not good to drink,” said Mohammed. “But that’s all we have.” He raised his voice, as if speaking to an unseen official. “We have called the government many times. They came, they assessed, but nothing happened. For the sake of Allah, give us a borehole. Without water, there is no life.”

Locals told HumAngle that they now trek five to seven kilometres in search of safer water. Some walk to Kuwaska and Bula Modu, nearby villages with solar-powered boreholes and hand pumps. Those with motorcycles, cows, or camels carry jerry cans. The rest go on foot, trudging under the sun with plastic containers balanced on their heads. 

“We are in dire need of this water,” Abdullahi said.

While Mohammed and hundreds of his fellow villagers struggle for water, billions of naira earmarked for environmental protection, including projects meant to halt desertification, continue to vanish without accountability.

At the centre of this story is the National Ecological Fund, established in 1981 as Nigeria’s flagship program to confront erosion, flooding and desert encroachment. It was meant to be a lifeline for communities like Bultu Briya, but it has become a cash cow for political elites over the decades. Billions flow into the fund each year. In 2023 alone, more than ₦8 billion (about $5 million) was directed to the three northeastern states most vulnerable to desertification: Borno, Adamawa, and Yobe. However, audits have repeatedly shown that the money rarely reaches the ground.

Yobe offers a unique case study. In 2020, state officials announced a three-million-tree planting scheme, budgeted at ₦3 billion ($2 million), to create green shelterbelts around towns like Bultu Briya and Zakkari. Such belts, if implemented, could have slowed the encroaching dunes.

While the plan looked ambitious, on the ground, there was nothing.

Villagers remember a brief appearance and launch of the project and a token distribution of seedlings to officials present for the launch. The government dubbed the place Dasuwa forest, giving hope to the community of a new expanse of forest area in the Lawan Kalam community in Yobe State. But most of the plants dried up during the dry season without water. 

When we visited what was supposed to be the Dusuwa Forest in August 2025, we confirmed that the project had effectively disappeared. Except for a handful of dried seedlings in sight, the supposed forest is without trees. 

“The government has a way of launching the project during the rainy season so that the seedlings can survive with human efforts. But as soon as it’s the dry season, nobody monitors the plants and they quickly dry up,” says Usman Adamu, a youth leader in Yobe state.

In Bultu Briya, where dunes have contaminated the water, villagers said the tree planting scheme never reached them. Yusuf, a community member, explained that while they heard of trees being planted in other villages, Bultu was left out entirely. 

Despite this, Yobe secured an even bigger climate project in 2024. The African Development Bank gave the state a $50 million loan to plant 40 million trees, more than ten times the scale of the failed scheme. The announcement infuriated communities that had never seen a grove since the first project.

“If they cannot plant three million trees, how will they plant forty million?” asked Adamu.

When asked about these failures, Yobe State’s Ministry of Environment insisted the government is taking steps to combat desert encroachment. Officials pointed to partnerships with the United Cities and Local Governments of Africa, the UN Development Programme, and World Bank–backed initiatives like ACReSAL and the SOLID project. They also cited an advocacy tour to desert-prone LGAs and a tree-planting competition to reward residents who nurture seedlings.

However, the ministry did not address the central question of accountability, especially the one asking why the 2020 tree-planting project was left unmonitored, why the seedlings dried up, and who, if anyone, was held responsible.

On the question of water, the Ministry of Water Resources distanced itself from responsibility. “Only the Ministry cannot solve the issue,” a message forwarded to our reporter from a Ministry of Water Resources official read. “However, the local government council is responsible for solving the issue. As I am speaking to you now, no complaint from that village has reached us.”

But villagers say they have been calling for boreholes and clean water for years, and that officials came to “assess” the situation without bringing relief.

Speaking on the mishandling of climate financing in Yobe state, Lukmon of the Global Centre for Climate Mobility, a US-based organisation, found a gap in how the tree-planting schemes were funded. He noted that it is clear some funds channelled to tackle climate shocks in Yobe took the top-down approach, meaning that the funders only engaged the state actors and ignored affected locals.

“I would say the agency of local actors is vital to address climate mobility. You don’t just pass it from top to bottom. You need to work with people on the ground, a bottom-up approach. This is highly intersecting with existing challenges, and one of the ones that we have mentioned is that there is a big problem of ungoverned spaces, a big problem of poor socio-economic realities, and the climate change issue is just exacerbating these existing issues,” he stressed.

A sea of sand

The Yusufari local government is primarily arid, with agricultural activity limited to its southernmost regions. The predominant vegetation is Shrub/Scrub, a low-growing, woody plant community that includes grasses and herbs, adapted to the dry conditions. Trees are sparse, consisting of individual, drought-resistant desert species found in patches within the shrubland. Satellite analysis indicates vegetation covers less than 10 per cent of the land surface.

What villagers describe in Yusufari is visible from space. Satellite data shows that the northern part of Yobe has become one of the most fragile environments in the Sahel.

NASA’s GRACE satellites, which measure underground water, reveal that while some parts of the Sahel region have gained water in recent years, Yusufari has not. Its groundwater levels have stayed flat for two decades. That means wells are not being replenished the way they are in nearby areas.

On the surface, the story is the same. A land cover analysis by the European Space Agency shows that Yobe has about 12 per cent of its land dedicated to cropland, the highest share in the entire corridor. But satellite records reveal that Yobe, unlike its neighbours, is losing much of the farmland that sustains its people. 

Over the past 20 years, vegetation in Borno, Yobe’s neighbour to the east, has actually increased, and even Diffa and Zinder across the border in Niger have shown signs of improvement. Yobe, however, has gone in the opposite direction, with satellite data indicating a loss of nearly a quarter of its vegetation cover in just two decades. This makes the state especially vulnerable to desert-induced land degradation, since most of its population depends directly on farming for food and survival. 

“From above, the view is unmistakable,” said GIS analyst Mansir Muhammed, who led the study. “Yusufari is an island of villages in a sea of sand. In this kind of condition, environmental displacement is just inevitable.”

Pressure across borders

The effects of environmental collapse in areas like Bultu Briya and Yusufari are an exodus. But most are leaving the frying pan for the fire. 

Farmers in Adamawa’s Ganye town are now crossing into Cameroon, where they clash with local communities over land and water resources. In Yobe, villagers who flee into the Niger Republic face hostility from hosts who are also battered by drought. Migration flows in both directions. Cameroonians, fleeing their climate shocks, are moving into Nigeria’s Adamawa state. The influx has strained schools, markets, and water sources. The competition for resources is feeding suspicion between neighbours.

In Niger, desertification is close to a permanent threat, with over 50 per cent of the land showing signs of degradation, according to environmental assessments. A World Food Programme report noted that the country loses nearly 100,000 hectares of productive land to erratic rainfall, rising temperatures, and frequent droughts and floods yearly. The human toll is that about 2.2 million people are acutely food insecure, while an estimated 1.5 million children suffer from moderate acute malnutrition and 400,000 more from severe malnutrition.

Cameroon, too, is feeling the pressure. Communities in the northern regions bordering Nigeria and the Sahel face declining rainfall and increasingly erratic seasons. Competition for water, pasture, and arable land is intensifying and leading to localised conflicts that echo across the porous national borders.

Satellite imagery shows that those who flee Yusufari into neighbouring areas of Chad and northern Cameroon are likely to meet with advancing aridity and competition for land. Data from the Living Atlas’s World Atlas of Desertification, analysed using United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) metrics, classifies the entire Yusufari belt, stretching across Nigeria into Niger, Chad, and Cameroon, as an arid zone highly “susceptible to desertification.” In other words, migration along this corridor often leads people from one fragile landscape into another that is equally at risk.

Even where conditions look slightly better, the relief is often short-lived. Diffa and Zinder in Niger have shown some signs of greening and water recovery, but their soils remain fragile and dry. For instance, satellite imagery indicates that Diffa alone is nearly 80 per cent bare land. And the northern regions in Cameroon struggle with the same aridity as Niger. 

Hostile sky, horrible land

When Abubakar Mohammed of Borno state decided to move to Cameroon, the climate of drought and dune crises was at its peak. The season carried a smell of scorched earth, he said, but beyond that, repeated sounds of gunfire from Boko Haram terrorists were enough reason to leave. Mohammed had been a farmer in Borno all his life. But the rains grew erratic over the years, the lake receded, and the soil cracked under the sun’s relentless glare. Then came Boko Haram.

“They came at night,” Abubakar recalled, his voice low. “We heard the shouting, the shots. They burned the storehouse. We ran with nothing.” His family joined a stream of neighbours heading east, toward the border with Cameroon. The journey was long, the air thick with fear and the uncertainty ahead. The culprit for this mass exodus is a deadly combination of climate and conflict, two intertwined forces setting families apart and homes shattered in the northeastern region of Nigeria.

Abubakar’s forceful migration is a macrocosm of this deadly crisis, but he’s obviously not the only one moving with the violent climatic wind toward the Cameroon border. Farming was once stable back home, but that changed with a noticeable shift in the weather. “The water we had the previous year was not the same this year,” he lamented, pointing to a severe change in rainfall patterns. This water scarcity wasn’t just a natural phenomenon; it was exacerbated by massive tree felling, a direct contributor to desertification and drought. As the land dried up, the competition for water and viable grazing land turned deadly.

This is where the conflict began. The drying farmlands of the north pushed herdsmen south, forcing them to trespass on cultivated lands to feed their cattle. “They will come and put their cattle in people’s farms,” Abubakar said, describing a situation where dialogue was no longer an option. When farmers like him tried to protest, the response was swift and violent. “If we talk, they fight us. And some were killed as a result.” 

The conflict wasn’t a minor inconvenience; it was a full-blown crisis that cost Abubakar his two brothers and his elder brother. This brutal violence, coupled with a breakdown of law and order where “even soldiers know about the situation,” left him and his family with no hope for safety or justice. Their home was burned, and they were forced to flee for their lives. The six-day journey to Cameroon was a desperate escape from a land that no longer supported them.

For 25-year-old Christiana Yusuf, the decision to leave was not made in a single night of violence, but over years of watching the land betray her. In Adamawa State, her small plot had once yielded enough maize to feed her children and sell at the market. But the rains had shifted, arriving late and ending early. When they did come, they came in torrents, washing away seedlings in muddy floods.

“First the drought, then the floods,” she said. “We could not plant in time. We could not harvest enough. And then the fighters came.”

The Boko Haram fighters turned already fragile livelihoods into impossible ones. Markets closed. Roads became dangerous. Even tending to a field became a gamble with life. By the time Abubakar and Christiana reached the Cameroonian frontier, they were part of a much larger exodus. In the Far North Region of Cameroon, local authorities and aid agencies were already struggling to cope with the influx. Many new arrivals came from Nigeria’s Borno, Adamawa, and Yobe states, areas hit hardest by the twin crises of climate and conflict.

In Cameroonian villages like Fotokol and Kousseri, Nigerian families found shelter in makeshift camps or with host communities. But the welcome, though warm, was strained. “We share what we have,” said a Cameroonian farmer interviewed by aid workers, “but the land is not enough for all of us now.”

Now in a camp in Cameroon, Christiana still clings to her identity as a farmer, growing small patches of maize and onions. “My body is used to farming,” she said. Even in a new country, the scars of climate-induced conflict and loss of livelihood run deep. Abubakar learned to live in the camps with ration cards and water queues. Christiana tried to keep her children in school, but classrooms were overcrowded, with few teachers. The host communities, affected by erratic rains and climate disruptions, struggled to absorb the newcomers. Back home, competition for land, water, and grazing intensified. In some areas, especially in Yobe state, disputes between farmers and herders, fueled by climate-driven scarcity, erupted into violence, displacing even more people.

We spoke of scores of Nigerians who fled to Cameroon, especially in the Adamawa and Far North regions. All of them echoed one fact: The twin forces of climate and conflict driving them away from home persist. Although their host communities might be hostile to them, they said, going back home is never an option. For both Abubakar and Christiana, Cameroon was not an end, but a pause. They dream of returning to Nigeria, to a land that can once again sustain them. But they know that return is a dangerous fantasy without peace and a climate they can depend on.

“I want to go home,” Abubakar said, “but home must be safe. And the land must live again.”

Until then, they will remain among the thousands whose lives have been reshaped by the collision of two forces, one born of human conflict and the other of a changing planet. In the Lake Chad Basin, neither shows signs of relenting.

From frying pan to fire

Interestingly, the Niger Republic is both a transport hub and a destination for many migrants fleeing climate hostility in northeastern Nigeria. When most locals from Nigeria flee to Niger, they find the place not quite different; the climate shocks in the country terrify its citizens, just as in Yobe, Borno or Adamawa. While many have resorted to starting their lives all over again in Niger, others, like Sani, will only stop where the grass is greener. Sani would stay for a few months in Niger before finding his route to Libya, through Agadez. His reason? “Niger’s extreme weather is not any better.”

Many young Nigerian climate migrants have ventured into illegal gold mining in the Djado area of Nthe iger Republic. They would labour for days under the hellish weather before touching a gold cut. The terrain is hazardous, as terrorists exploit it, and host communities are not exactly welcoming. Water resources are the bone of contention, even on the Djado mining site. In rural communities, water is scarce, just as in villages in the Yusufari axis of Yobe state. This condition puts migrants in a tight situation, competing with local Nigeriens for limited resources. 

“We were working in atrocious conditions,” said Mahamadou Ibrahim, a local miner from the Maradi region, who claimed to have worked with dozens of Nigerian climate migrants on the Djado gold site. “I’ve never seen a site as difficult as Djado.” According to him, the main difficulty was the lack of water. Najib Harouna, another miner in Djado, described the situation to our correspondent: “First of all, you have no shelter. These are makeshift sheds, built with straw reinforced with plastic.  If it rains, all the rain pours down on you, and you can always hear gunfire in the vicinity. And then, there are the abuse and exploitation.

“Some well owners take people to drive them into the bush, do a week or two weeks digging, if you haven’t found anything, you can’t leave, unless you pay them what they spent on you.”

The gruelling conditions of working on the Djado mining site forced Sani to Libya, but when he got there, a more appalling situation brought him back to his home country. But there is more to the danger of moving to another man’s land in the name of climate hazards: continual communal clashes.

Locals in the Niger Republic told our correspondent that they often brawl with Nigerians seeking greener pastures over land and water resources. Ironically, Nigerian climate migrants are moving to communities in Niger facing similar issues to what pushed them beyond borders. What the locals told HumAngle matched a 2021 study by the International Organisation for Migration on how climate change is driving internal migration within towns in the Niger Republic and even beyond the country’s borders.

IOM’s investigators interviewed over 350 rural households in Niger and 147 internal climate migrants who had moved from different areas to Niamey. The study showed that rising temperatures (75.5 per cent), droughts (63.9 per cent), and strong winds (34.6 per cent) are the climatic drivers of forced displacements and migrations in the country.

“85 per cent of the population of Niger depends on the environment for their livelihood. Unfortunately, environmental and climate shocks such as droughts, floods, wildfires, erratic rainfall, and desertification are intensifying and impacting the livelihoods of communities. This is causing a growing number of people to leave their homes,” said Barbara Rijks, IOM Chief of Mission in Niger.

Way forward through COP

Sahelian states have been spotlighted as hotspots for extreme climate crises. During COP29 in Baku, African leaders tried to negotiate immediate climate financing to contain the region’s hostile climate shocks and environmental setbacks. Although a New Collective Quantified Goal (NCQG) was established to raise $300 billion annually by 2035, the conference failed to deliver effective mechanisms to support the Sahel in combating climate hostility.

According to UNHCR, over 129.9 million people are forcibly displaced worldwide, with the Sahel contributing significantly due to compounding climate shocks and governance failures. The report noted how weak institutions, corruption, and limited capacity to manage conflict have hindered effective climate response, exacerbating forced migration and instability. Climate analysts reviewing the outcome of COP29 have urged the summit to prioritise African-led resilience strategies and transboundary climate adaptation risks (TCARs). Ahead of COP30 in Belém, Brazil, the analyst said the stakes for the Sahel are higher than ever, as African leaders call for binding standards for transparent governance and inclusive climate finance.

Climate mobility expert Lukmon said COP30 must confront the widening climate reality gap by scaling adaptation and financing resilience using a bottom-up approach. For the Sahel, the expert noted, this means investing in community-led solutions, strengthening governance frameworks, and ensuring that climate action translates into tangible protection for those most at risk.

“At the core of COP is the ability to discuss various aspects of climate change and forge partnerships. It is crucial to highlight that human mobility in the context of climate change is a growing reality, encompassing more than just forced displacement. Those of us working in this space prefer the term ‘mobility’over ‘migration’ to address related issues, including planned relocation,” he said.

Dorcas Ekupe and Amma Mousa contributed cross-border reporting/research. Mansir Muhammed analysed satellite images and illustrated maps. Satellite imagery was sourced from Google Earth Pro.

This story was supported by the Pulitzer Centre.

Last year, the party committed to widen public access to major sporting events by ensuring more are available to view without subscription TV packages. It says it favours a similar approach to one taken in Spain where La Liga must offer one free game a week to fans after a change in the law in 2022.

Max Wilkinson MP, Lib Dem spokesperson for Culture, Media and Sport said: “I’m urging MPs of all stripes to back our amendment to tear down the paywall and make Premier League games available on free to air channels.

“For too long, the jewel in the crown of British football has been locked behind an expensive barrier that keeps fans out while lining the pockets of broadcasters.

“That must end today – with a free-to-air revolution that gives the Premier League back to the country.”

A spokesperson for the Department of Culture, Media and Sport said: “The government has no plans to review the listed events regime.”

The Premier League declined to comment.

The legislation has now reached the report stage in the House of Commons.

A similar amendment was tabled at the committee stage last month.

At the time, the Sports Minister Stephanie Peacock said: “The listed events regime have protected key moments such as the FA Cup Final while ensuring that the Premier League, EFL & FA are able to raise billions of pounds annually, which is invested back into the pyramid.

“We all want to see more matches being televised free-to-air, but that must be balanced against that investment and not risk it… It would not be appropriate for the regulator to intervene in commercial decisions between the relevant broadcasters and rights holders.”

The Lib Dems claim analysis of subscription prices shows that to watch each available Premier League game live next season fans will have to pay £660 a year.

Last month, it was revealed Premier League television viewing figures on main live rights-holder Sky Sports were down 10% last season, while TNT Sports had a 17% reduction in its year-on-year figures.

The spate of insecurity in Nigeria is turning many local communities into ungovernable spaces. As the secular government withdraws from these communities, terrorist groups expand their influence, consolidate authority, and accumulate illicit wealth. Traditional leaders—once the primary link between the people and governance—now operate under the coercive control of armed factions, which have established parallel administrations and seized the reins of the local economy.

North East

The government’s absence is nearly absolute in northeastern Nigeria, around the Lake Chad basin. Here, the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) and remnants of Boko Haram terrorists operate not as fugitives but as rulers. Their authority is layered, structured, and chillingly effective.

ISWAP has organised its territory into mantikas (localities), which are regional districts aligned with Nigeria’s federal structure. These mantikas oversee taxation, zakat (alms-giving), farm levies, education (Qur’anic schools and ideological reprogramming), security, courts, and patrols.

Several communities in Abadam, Guzamala, Kukawa, Marte, and Mobbar no longer wait for state forces; they negotiate directly with insurgent-appointed administrators. The group’s brutality is, for many, accompanied by a disturbing sense of order within a context devoid of hope.

North West

While ISWAP’s rule is ideological, in North West Nigeria, it encompasses a chaotic mix of economic, ethnic, and religious factors. In Zamfara, armed groups now operate like proto-states. The forests of Maru, Bakura, and Anka are home to well-defended camps with command hierarchies, blood-draining tax systems, and armouries supplied via Sahelian trafficking routes and after raids on military positions.

HumAngle investigations found that communities like Tungar Doruwa, Maitoshshi, Chabi, and Kwankelai—once protected under the Dankurmi Police Outpost—are now under the firm control of Kachalla Black and Kachalla Gemu. Further south, Kungurmi, Galeji, and Yarwutsiya are governed by Kachalla Soja and Kachalla Madagwal. Up north, Kango Village and Madafa Mountain serve as fortresses for terrorists like Wudille and Ado Aleru, who command loyalty through a combination of fear and patronage.

Here, terrorism is no longer sporadic. It is systemic. It is territorial governance without borders, aided by the region’s gold trade, deep forests, and a broken justice system. Entire LGAs now function as autonomous war zones where Nigerian laws hold no sway.

The little-known Lakurawa terror network is enforcing a form of stealth insurgency in the areas of Isa, Sabon Birni, and Rabah in Sokoto State. Schools are shuttered, roads are mined, and civilians pay levies for survival. The group’s cross-border tactics, using the Niger Republic as a tactical fallback, make them elusive and resilient.

Many villages with large populations, like Galadima, Kamarawa, and Dankari in Sokoto, now survive on whispered warnings and ritual bribes. Lakurawa’s governance is less visible but equally firm, with taxation, curfews, and brutal retribution. Residents say sporadic military raids offer little relief; the terrorists return hours later, more vengeful than before.

The fractures in Kaduna State mirror the broader problems in Nigeria. In Chikun, Giwa, and Birnin Gwari, attacks by Ansaru factions and criminal warbands have pushed out state institutions. Southern Kaduna adds another layer, with ethnic violence fused with terror raids, leaving villages like Jika da Kolo and Tudun Biri in ruins.

Katari, once a symbol of Kaduna’s transport link to Abuja, is now a ghost zone, haunted by the memory of the 2022 train attack. Trains now pass, but the residents remain missing, displaced or dead.

North Central

In Niger State, rural districts like Shiroro, Mashegu, and Borgu are steadily slipping from state and federal control. After attacks such as the 2021 Mazakuka mosque massacre, entire villages fled, leaving behind ghost towns. ISWAP and affiliated terror cells have since moved in, using dense forests to launch ambushes and collect tribute.

In Rafi, Allawa, Bassa, and Zazzaga, residents speak of “government by gun”, which is enforced through nighttime raids and extortion rackets. What began as raids has metastasised into permanent displacement. Farming has ceased. Children grow up never having seen a police officer.

Niger State is next to Abuja, Nigeria’s federal capital territory.

South East

The secessionist group known as the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB) has transformed parts of Imo and Anambra States into shadow states. What began as ideological agitation has evolved into fragmented shadow governance, particularly in Orsu, Oguta, and Nnewi South, where IPOB’s Eastern Security Network (ESN) now operates checkpoints, enforces lockdowns, and levies informal taxes. Police presence is almost nonexistent; courts are shuttered; schools function sporadically.

This pattern is not isolated. As Mgbeodinma Nwankwo reports for HumAngle in Onitsha, “Southeast Nigeria has greatly changed from a region with historical landmarks and trade centres to areas of gunfire that make life deadly for civilians and law enforcement officers.” States like Anambra, Imo, Abia, and Ebonyi have become centres for violence. Non-state armed groups routinely block roads and attack police stations. Businesses close early, travel routes are avoided, and fear governs daily life.

IPOB’s camps, hidden in forest belts, serve as training grounds and operational bases – funded by diaspora networks and sustained by black-market arms. The state’s coercive apparatus has collapsed in these ungoverned interiors, like Ihiala and stretches of rural Imo. Local vigilante outfits like Ebube Agu and Operation Udo Ga Chi strive to maintain a fragile order, often overwhelmed by better-armed non-state actors.

As Nwankwo describes, uniforms have become “magnets for attacks.” Police and military personnel are hunted, ambushed, kidnapped, or executed. One soldier, attending a party in Imo while off duty, was identified and found dead the next morning. 

“Wearing a uniform here is like painting a target on your back,” said a police officer in Imo, speaking anonymously. “We go to work in mufti and only change when necessary. Even then, we operate in groups, as solo patrols pose a significant risk.”

The psychological toll is immense. Morale among security forces is at an all-time low. Many seek transfers, and while some still consider the southeastern region postings financially rewarding, the life-threatening risks overshadow any incentives.

The violence is driven by a volatile mix: separatist agitation, criminal opportunism, and state withdrawal. IPOB and ESN are often suspected to be responsible for many of the terror attacks, though they frequently deny involvement. Criminal gangs, exploiting the chaos, further destabilise the region.

State response has focused on increasing highway checkpoints, leaving interior communities exposed. Critics argue this reactive approach exacerbates tensions. “Deploying more soldiers is not enough,” warns Dr Chioma Emenike, a conflict resolution expert based in the southeast. “There must be dialogue, economic empowerment, and trust-building between security agencies and local communities.”

Ultimately, the region faces a dual crisis of security and legitimacy. As uniforms vanish from the rural southeast, so does any semblance of state authority. What remains is a precarious state of fear and survival—residents trapped between hostile non-state actors and a disengaged state, teetering on the edge of anarchy.

Nigeria’s unseen frontlines

Nigeria’s forests have become its most telling metaphor. Once tourist destinations and biodiversity treasures, they are now frontlines of insurgency. No-go zones include Kamuku, Kainji, Falgore, and Sambisa. Dumburum and Kagara are insurgent capitals.

Even southern states are not spared. In Ondo, Edo, and Lagos, the forests harbour kidnappers and traffickers. In the Niger Delta, mangroves shelter oil theft rings bleeding billions from the national treasury.

These green belts mark the outer limit of Nigeria’s practical sovereignty. Beyond them lies another Nigeria: unrecognised, ungoverned, and rapidly growing.

Kabir Adamu, a seasoned security analyst and the CEO of Beacon Security and Intelligence Limited–a security risk management and consulting firm– expressed concerns over the scarce presence of governance and secular leadership in territories overrun by terrorists.

“Where they exist, they typically include poorly staffed and under-resourced police posts, non-functional or abandoned local government offices, dilapidated schools, and health and medical centres with little to no medical personnel or supplies,” he told HumAngle, noting that, in some locations, especially in northern Borno and remote areas of Zamfara and Katsina, such structures have been destroyed or taken over by terrorists, further eroding state presence.

Adamu added that, as the state recedes, communities have been forced to adapt in ways that challenge conventional notions of governance. He said many communities have resorted to local self-help mechanisms, including forming or reviving armed vigilante groups, with support from traditional rulers or local elites in some cases.

“These groups often serve as the first and only line of defence against armed groups, conducting patrols, manning checkpoints, and gathering intelligence. Unfortunately, the formation of the vigilantes continues not to reflect the communities’ diverse residents,” the security analyst noted.

Forest guard corps

The federal government’s response to these problems offers a glimmer of optimism, as it established the new Forest Guard Corps to reclaim these wild spaces. Trained in guerrilla warfare and intelligence, these units, drawn from local populations, are tasked with intercepting armed groups and restoring order.

However, without systemic reforms such as real policing, honest governance, and economic renewal, the corps risks becoming merely a temporary solution to a persistent problem. These affected communities nationwide need more than just soldiers; they need schools, courts, trust, and opportunities.

Although Adamu admitted that the Nigerian government has taken various actions in and around ungoverned spaces to reduce the influence of armed groups, he insisted that these approaches remain fragmented and often lack the institutional follow-through needed to fill the broader governance vacuum.

“There are clear signs that the ungoverned spaces in Nigeria are expanding, consolidating, and in some cases, connecting across local government and state boundaries in mostly the northern regions but also affecting some of the southern areas,” he said, adding that although military operations have resulted in the arrest or killing of militants, and recovery of weapons, the gains are often temporary in the absence of sustained civilian governance.

The rise of an economy of fear

As formal taxation collapses, ransoms rise in northwestern Nigeria. In Dansadau, HumAngle found that farmers trade goats and sorghum to retrieve kidnapped relatives. In Zugu and Gaude, families pay monthly levies to criminals to avoid attacks. Pay tribute is the only way to ensure public safety in some places.

A breakdown of ransom payments made in Nigeria between May 2023 and April 2024, according to the National Bureau of Statistics. Infographics: Damilola Lawal/HumAngle>

Project 2025 became a flashpoint during the 2024 presidential campaign. The sweeping conservative policy blueprint aims to overhaul the federal government and reshape United States society.

How closely is President Donald Trump following its direction? And how much does it test the limits of the Constitution?

Marc Lamont Hill talks to Paul Dans, the former director of Project 2025 at the Heritage Foundation.

The Nigerian military’s quest to reclaim the North East from the brutal grip of Boko Haram over the past decade has been a turbulent journey. The region was a tapestry of terror; towns like Baga, Bama, and Gwoza in 2014 and 2015 had become grim reminders of the country’s vulnerabilities. Yet, the Nigerian military, bolstered by regional allies in the Multinational Joint Task Force (MNJTF), wrestled control of these towns, turning them from insurgent safe havens into battle-scarred victories.

The Sambisa Forest Offensive of 2016–2017 was a turning point, a brutal dance through a dense jungle of death, where Boko Haram’s leadership once thrived under a thick green ecological canopy. The military’s seizure of “Camp Zero,” the so-called fortress of terror, amounted to an audacious triumph. Hundreds of insurgents fell, their weapons seized, a testament to the military’s ability to breach even the most fortified sanctuaries of bloodshed.

Though what followed that victory was a cat-and-mouse race between the military, who could dislodge the insurgents, but do not have the numbers to stay back and lay the guard, and Boko Haram who employ a retreat strategy when faced with superior fire, only to return to the areas that the military has abandoned until the next fight.

In the years that followed, from 2019 to 2023, the military turned its focus on ISWAP, a more powerful splinter of Boko Haram, by surgically eliminating a lot of the group’s leaders and dismantling camps that once hummed with the machinery of war. In the North West, Operation Hadarin Daji, and in the North-central, Operations Safe Haven and Whirl Stroke, have pushed organised armed groups into retreat, forcing criminals to burrow deeper into the forests.

Even on the high seas, the navy has scored victories against oil thieves and pirates by destroying illegal refineries. These significant achievements are the result of the tireless efforts of soldiers who are committed to safeguarding Nigeria’s sovereignty; yet, this hard-won ground remains dangerously fragile.

The Dasukigate arms scandal robbed frontline troops of essential gear, turning the fight into a test of sheer will against an enemy armed not only with bullets but also with a government’s betrayal. HumAngle has also documented how corruption and a lack of accountability negatively impacted the welfare of security officials on the frontlines. These soldiers, who have prevented every Nigerian from becoming a refugee, live in some of the most deplorable conditions along with their families. 

Though the military itself didn’t do too well, reports of torture and extrajudicial killings cast long shadows, eroding public confidence and breeding a dangerous cynicism.

Corruption, the most persistent adversary, flourishes. According to a PwC report, if Nigeria’s kleptocratic elites continue to enrich themselves, the country’s GDP could plummet by 37 per cent by 2030. That’s $2,000 ripped from every Nigerian’s pocket, a future mortgaged by greed.

Nigeria has already lost over $550 billion to corruption since 1960, says the World Justice Project. In 2019 alone, Nigerians paid ₦675 billion in bribes. The theft of these monumental figures is as destructive as the acts of terrorism committed against innocent citizens by Boko Haram and other similar groups.

The adaptive enemy

Meanwhile, the insurgents continue to adapt and evolve, capitalising on the governance vacuum. Driven from urban centres, they’ve slithered into rural areas, away from the spotlights of many news platforms, to rule over these populations. The borders, a frayed edge where fighters dart in and out, are also important. Weapons from Libya’s collapse and Mali’s war zones bolster them. These ungoverned spaces are the oxygen that fuels the fires of terrorism across Nigeria.

In many rural communities, the only governance they have known is by a brutal armed group that leaves them with only one option: comply or die.

The free-for-all ransom economy 

Between May 2023 and April 2024, an estimated 2.2 million people were kidnapped across Nigeria, according to data from the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS). During this period, families and communities paid roughly ₦2.2 trillion in ransoms. The North West accounted for the highest payments, totalling ₦1.2 trillion, while the South-East recorded the lowest, with ₦85.4 billion. Rural areas bore the brunt of these abductions, with 1,668,104 reported cases compared to 567,850 in urban centres.

These ransom figures are conservative estimates, reflecting less than half of the total money that changes hands between families and non-state actors in grisly exchanges. Accurate data is scarce because there is no functional system in place to prevent abductions or to track and regulate ransom payments. Despite efforts to curb kidnappings, families, driven by desperation and love, often pay ransoms directly to secure the release of their loved ones.

The so-called “ransom economy” is not only vibrant and fast-growing but also an unchecked, chaotic, and lucrative sector that operates without oversight. This lack of regulation fuels the expansion of kidnappings and enables militant groups and criminal gangs to thrive. Given the military’s critical role in counterterrorism and counterinsurgency efforts, it is imperative that it track every ransom payment, every penny that ends up in the hands of its adversaries.

A dedicated, trained, and multi-agency unit should be established to track and monitor every ransom transaction. This unit must ensure that every negotiation is carefully aligned with the broader military and counterinsurgency strategy to avoid inadvertently strengthening the enemy or undermining ongoing security operations.

The accountability problem

Pre-trial detainees languish in Nigeria’s overcrowded cells, their fate suspended in a limbo that mocks the very notion of justice. High-profile cases of notorious terrorists and violent criminals, especially those who once sowed terror and death, remain unresolved, further deepening public despair. Worse still, many of these fighters are offered amnesty deals, returning to communities they once ravaged, where their victims now live with trauma and betrayal.

The Knifar Movement is a stirring example. HumAngle has tirelessly documented the plight of women whose husbands were whisked away by the military under vague suspicions of insurgency, many of them never to be seen or heard from again. Their demands for truth and justice highlight the release of a thousand of them with no compensation and further create a system that prides itself on “winning the war”, yet cannot even account for those it detains in the name of that victory.

Meanwhile, in places like Giwa Barracks in Maiduguri, disturbing allegations of torture and extrajudicial killings fester in the shadows. Human rights groups have decried the treatment of detainees, where beatings, starvation, and summary executions appear to be the grim tools of interrogation, a chilling echo of the very brutality the military claims to fight.

A broken justice system

Beyond the barracks, justice in rural Nigeria is too often a distant rumour. Communal disputes and cattle rustling, particularly in the North-central and North West regions, have become chronic afflictions. Villagers watch, disillusioned, as security forces fail to resolve their grievances. In the absence of real justice, people turn to self-help: vigilante groups rise from the ashes of neglect, meting out their brand of “law” with machetes and hunting rifles. 

The Administration of Criminal Justice Act (ACJA) of 2015 was meant to reform these dismal realities — to inject some semblance of speed and fairness into a system that moves with all the urgency of a snail in a marathon. Yet, despite its lofty promises, the ACJA has struggled to take root, hampered by state-level inertia and a persistent culture of impunity.

In this climate, the real business of justice is still little more than a distant ideal. Without meaningful reform, these injustices will continue to fester, infecting every corner of the nation’s already fragile peace.

A fragile peace — and a stark choice

Nigeria’s National Security Adviser, Nuhu Ribadu, reported that military and intelligence operations have significantly advanced counter-terrorism efforts, killing 13,543 insurgents and criminals nationwide over the past two years. Ribadu added that at least 124,408 insurgents and their families have surrendered and are now in the government’s deradicalisation and reintegration program. 

The military works hard to recapture towns and forests, but fostering trust within the people remains a gap. Unfortunately, victory on the battlefield holds minimal significance if young people perceive their future solely through the lens of violence, if their sole option is to don a uniform, jeopardise their lives, and return to communities still plagued by hunger, fear, and injustice.

At the heart of this cycle lies a grim truth: bad governance and corruption are not just the enemies of good policy or a good fighting military force; they’re the quiet architects of endless war. 

The final battle, it seems, is not in Sambisa or the Lake Chad islands. The real enemies are corruption, indifference, and political expediency, all conspiring in the echoing halls of Abuja to mock every military triumph. Young men and women in uniform are traumatised and are merely pawns in an endless battle.

Without accountability at all levels, from the barracks to the boardrooms of government, these military victories risk being as fleeting as they are bloody, quickly undone by the same rot that has haunted Nigeria’s past. The choice, then, is stark: to demand more from those in power or to continue burying the hopes of a generation under the rubble of bad governance.

Authors: Andi Mohammad Ilham and Andi Mohammad Johan*

In the midst of global trade confusion, especially following Trump’s machinery tariff back to the global stage, Asian countries have been compelled to reassess their positions, even in the post-tariff war era. Although Trump’s tariff list prominently targeted both well-established and emerging Asian economies, they still chose to not retaliate against Trump’s tariff, in particular ASEAN. Moreover, Asian emerging economies are fundamentally aware and strategically minded amidst the era of economic security and geopolitical shifts. Therefore, many economists believe that rebalancing growth, meaning growth away from exports to strengthening domestic and regional demand with diversification, is a key for Asia’s bargaining power in the global trade regime.

According to the McKinsey Global Institute data, from 2015 to 2021, the Asian region reached its shared number for 57% of global GDP growth. Additionally, this evidence demonstrates that Asian countries host 49 of the world’s 80 largest trade routes. Facing this reality, Asia will be joining “the world’s new majority” through five pillars. It consists of capitalization, resources & energy, demographic composition, technology forces, and world order. In other words, Asia’s power penetration, in these metrics, makes a potential synergy and energy between them to endure in the age of economic security. One spectacular finding in this report, conducted in collaboration with the Asia Business Council, reveals that nearly 80 percent of surveyed Asian business leaders expressed optimism about the new era while still emphasizing a need for profound transformation.

In terms of regional transformation, the Asian region must pay close attention, beyond investment and trade, but equally vital for rebalancing growth, to the collaboration for fiscal and tax policy. As noted in the IMF Asia-Pacific Department’s commentary, recently after the emergence of tariff war 2.0, Asia is one of the regions facing the highest US tariffs. Simultaneously, the IMF’s Asia-Pacific Department also voices the importance of a balancing act for policies, especially for fiscal and tax policy. Given this situation, Asia is essential to not only strengthen tax reform at home for all emerging markets and developing countries but also undertake the consolidation of credible strategies in long-term fiscal and tax sustainability cooperation. 

In recent years, the politics of global tax governance has culminated in the geo-economic consideration due to the implementation of two pillars of the OECD-led multilateral tax regime and the emerging initiative of the UN-led multilateral tax regime. Indeed, both frameworks have already introduced a necessary agenda for regional tax governance, but the latter grants a bold political decision to regions in contemporary global tax governance. Unfortunately, Asia’s position on the contemporary politics of global tax governance is widely different depending on each country’s geo-economic interest. This diversity is not a new analytical observation, as the foundation of Asia’s economic development has long centered on complementary comparative advantages.

In line with this development, the rationale for regional collaboration is not novel, as it has long been a theme in Asia’s international political economy discourse. However, regional collaboration in tax, which is markedly different from other incentives for regional cooperation, is crucial as the dynamics of global tax governance now touch upon intensified regional political coordination.

Based on functional characteristics, there are only two distinctions, which are tax policy and tax collection. One finding highlights three key prospects for why regional tax governance is needed, including concerning tax capacity building or technical assistance, regional political coordination, and regional engagement with international institutions. From the function of tax capacity building, it is about promoting regional cooperation concerning national tax administration and ensuring its technical assistance maintains productive relationships among members in the region. Meanwhile, both political coordination and regional engagement with global institutions relate more to the spheres of tax policy. 

Furthermore, the EU is frequently referenced as a well-established model of regional tax governance, through its EU Tax Policy. But, on the global stage, the EU still remains as a rule-taker because the position for rule-makers is handed over to the OECD. In contrast, the ATAF, African Tax Administration Forum, has progressively positioned itself as a rule-shaper due to its influential role not only in regional but also in global tax order. Subsequently, the emergence of the UN Tax Framework Convention further justified its position as a rule-shaper in contemporary global tax governance. 

Responding to these dynamics, Asia—as home to major economic powerhouses—must conceptualize its strategic position in the area of regional tax governance. Indeed, in 2021, the Asian Development Bank launched ADB’s initiative for regional tax governance, the Asia Pacific Tax Hub. Using a regional development bank model, this platform was expected to stimulate reflection debates to consolidate Asia’s economic strength in global tax governance. Despite the presence of the regional development bank model, the room for regional tax governance in Asia remains largely untapped and must be strategically leveraged by all Asian stakeholders. 

In essence, this finding also indicated that Asia’s corridor in regional tax governance still leaves room for development. Aligned with the broader objectives for Asia’s sustainable growth in the age of economic security and global trade uncertainty, it is imperative to ensure Asia’s regional tax governance framework appropriately fits in with the region’s expanding economic influence.

*Andi Mohammad Johan holds a Master’s in Fiscal Administrative Science at the University of Indonesia. He is a Partner at MMStax Consulting, Indonesia. He is also a member of the Indonesian Tax Consultants Association (ITCA).