HumAngle

Two HumAngle investigations were recognised at the 2025 Excellence in Journalism Awards in West Africa, winning in the health reporting category and placing as first runner-up in sexual and gender-based violence reporting. 

The awards, organised by the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID), drew 275 entries from across the region and were announced during the Media and Development Conference in Abuja, North Central Nigeria, on Wednesday, November 26. 

The top prize in health reporting went to “Amid Deforestation Scourge, Vanishing Herbal Plants Pose Health Crisis in Southwestern Nigeria”, an investigation by freelance journalist Abdulwaheed Sofiullahi published by HumAngle with support from the Pulitzer Centre. His reporting detailed how worsening deforestation threatens access to traditional medicine for rural Nigerians, deepening risks from malaria, typhoid, and other common illnesses.

Abdulwaheed, who covers environment and health issues for several local and international outlets, urged young reporters to keep pursuing impactful stories as he received his award. He has previously served as a Health Reporting Fellow at the Wits Centre for Journalism in Johannesburg and is a member of the Oxford Climate Society.

HumAngle also earned recognition in the sexual and gender-based violence category, where Managing Editor Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu’s investigation, “A Tragic Femicide Case in Northeastern Nigeria Smells Like Honour Killing”, emerged as first runner-up. 

The story exposed the killing of a young girl by her uncle in Bama, Borno State, revealing the entrenched gender-based violence and systemic failures faced by women and girls in Nigeria’s conflict-affected North East.

Following publication, the investigation generated national attention for its detailed reporting and sensitive narration, prompting authorities to declare the suspect wanted. He has yet to be arrested. 

Hauwa, a conflict reporter with bylines in multiple international publications, documents the human toll of terrorism and insurgency through long-form storytelling and documentary work. She has won several journalism fellowships, including the 2025 FASPE Journalism Fellowship and the 2024 Ochberg Fellowship at the Dart Centre for Journalism and Trauma. She is also a Pulitzer Centre grantee. 

HumAngle’s multiple recognitions underscore the newsroom’s commitment to covering the human cost of conflict and humanitarian crisis, to bear witness and also hold authorities to account, especially in communities frequently missing from mainstream narratives. 

The CJID awards honour impactful journalism across West Africa, with categories spanning investigations, fact-checking, public service reporting, climate journalism, environment, politics, and gender. 

The award’s panel of judges disclosed that the entries were graded for accuracy and fairness, originality and innovativeness of the reporter, depth of research, storytelling, and public impact, as well as adherence to standards of reporting. This year’s finalists included journalists from Nigeria and Ghana.

HumAngle Foundation officially commenced the Strengthening Community Journalism and Human Rights Advocacy (SCOJA) Fellowship with workshops in Kaduna and Jos, Plateau State, Nigeria, on Nov. 10, bringing together community journalists and human rights advocates to enhance skills in ethical storytelling and evidence-driven reporting.

The third batch of the training commenced on Monday, Nov. 17, in Maiduguri, Borno State. 

Supported by the Embassy of the Kingdom of the Netherlands in Nigeria, the fellowship aims to build the capacity of community journalists and advocates across northern Nigeria.

A total of 90 fellows from nine states — North West (Kaduna and Kano), North Central (Benue, Niger, Plateau, Nasarawa), and North East (Borno, Adamawa, Yobe) — have been selected. 

On the first day of the workshop in Maiduguri, Jos, and Kaduna, the fellows were introduced to HumAngle’s newly developed Standards of Journalism Excellence and Advocacy guide. The guide covers conflict-sensitive reporting, accountability, countering disinformation, digital safety, and solutions journalism. 

According to Abdussamad Ahmad, HumAngle’s Security & Policy Analyst, the manual was designed to support journalists and advocates working in conflict-affected regions where ethical clarity and accuracy are critical. 

The workshops also examined the role of community journalists, who often serve as the first witnesses to social issues and crises within their localities. Their proximity to affected populations positions them to capture realities that shape public understanding. Other sessions focused on data-driven storytelling, mapping community challenges, and identifying collaborative solutions.

Hassana Danyerwa, Founder of the FeelNHeal Initiative, said she found the sessions valuable. “We all need emotional hygiene, not just for our bias but also for our ego,” she said.

Through her initiative, Hassana provides psychosocial support to communities and individuals, and noted that the session reinforced the importance of maintaining emotional balance when reporting sensitive issues.

Building on this, fellows also reflected on the broader difficulties of reporting in environments shaped by insecurity, misinformation, and public mistrust. Facilitators encouraged them to approach their work with precision, empathy, and a strong commitment to verification, particularly when documenting the experiences of vulnerable groups.

As the North East workshop continues, sessions for North Central and North West fellows concluded on Nov. 13, marking the completion of training for these regions.

The inaugural SCOJA Fellowship cohort features participants from a wide range of local media and advocacy organisations, including WikkiTimes, The Middle Belt Reporters, and Voice of Arewa, among others.

Over the next six months, fellows will report on issues within their communities and execute targeted community advocacy projects. They are also expected to share their learnings within their local organisations, further amplifying the impact of the fellowship.

Nigeria’s Stolen Classrooms | RSS.com

On The Crisis Room, we’re following insecurity trends across Nigeria.

Between 2014 and 2025, at least 1,880 students have been abducted across Nigeria.

It’s a staggering number on its own, but it becomes even heavier when you realise these are children whose dreams, confidence, and sense of safety have been repeatedly disrupted.

And this tragic pattern continues. Just this Monday, Nov. 17, in Kebbi State, terrorists abducted at least 25 students of the Government Girls’ Comprehensive Secondary School in Maga.

Today on The Crisis Room, we talk about the effect of this abduction on children.

Hosts: Salma

Guests: Hauwa Shaffii Nuhu and Professor Auwal Inuwa

Audio producer: Anthony Asemota

Executive producer: Ahmad Salkida

Huzaifa Abubakar has spent years leading community dialogues on food security and malnutrition, working to support families whose lives have been shaped by conflict and neglect in northeastern Nigeria. Yet, despite his experience, he often felt unprepared for what awaited him in the field.

As Team Lead of the Scaling Up Nutrition Youth Network Nigeria in Borno State, Huzaifa said he regularly engages with individuals who have experienced deep trauma. But he lacked guidance on how to safely navigate conflict-affected areas or engage survivors in ways that honoured their experiences.

That changed after he spent three days at the capacity-building workshop for the inaugural cohort of the Strengthening Community Journalism and Human Rights Advocacy (SCOJA) Fellowship by HumAngle Foundation in Maiduguri, Borno State. 

“I am now equipped to interact with vulnerable people and survivors ethically and sensibly,” he said. “The session on trauma-sensitive reporting stood out for me; still, the whole training was an eye-opener.”

Huzaifa is one of 90 community journalists and local advocacy actors selected for the SCOJA Fellowship, held with support from the Embassy of the Netherlands in Nigeria. The fellows are drawn from nine states across three regions — North West (Kaduna and Kano), North Central (Benue, Niger, Plateau, Nasarawa), and North East (Borno, Adamawa, Yobe).

The six-month fellowship aims to equip participants with skills and knowledge that will improve how they engage, document, and support grassroots issues and initiatives. 

Abdussamad Ahmad, HumAngle’s Security and Policy Analyst, who has coordinated the workshops in the North East and North Central, reminded fellows that their work places them at the earliest point of contact with communities. 

“You remain society’s first responders; your proximity to ordinary people gives you both responsibility and a rare advantage, the ability to shape public understanding with clarity, empathy, and discipline,” he said.

He urged them to cultivate habits of verification, ethical judgment, and emotional awareness, especially when engaging people coping with displacement, loss, or trauma.

The training also featured role-playing exercises and report-writing activities, giving participants space to practise trauma-sensitive engagement, field reporting, and ethical storytelling in realistic scenarios. These hands-on sessions helped fellows translate the concepts learned into practical skills they can immediately apply in their work.

“It was an engaging and insightful session, and I admire how he shared his experiences for us to learn from,” said Mohammed Alamin from Borno Radio Television (BRTV), referring to a session on digital and field safety, which was facilitated by Abdulkareem Haruna, HumAngle’s former Editor for the Lake Chad. 

Abbas Usman, a reporter for PharmaSahel, a local platform reporting on health issues in Borno, said he now feels better prepared to identify and report misinformation, malinformation, disinformation, and fake news. 

Another SCOJA Fellow, Nathaniel Ishaya, a radio producer and presenter from SMK Radio in Maiduguri, added, “The HumAngle training is an eye-opener; it teaches us about many things we are only now discovering in journalism. Although I studied journalism, this is the first time I got this firsthand.”

The recently concluded workshops, held between Nov. 10 – 19 in Jos (Plateau State), Kaduna, and Maiduguri (Borno State), mark the first phase of the programme. The next stage will involve fieldwork, during which fellows are expected to implement community projects, document local issues, and work with their organisations to pursue practical solutions rooted in human dignity and accountability. They will also share their learnings with colleagues to broaden the fellowship’s impact.

During this period, HumAngle will continue to support the fellows with resources and mentorship to strengthen their work at the grassroots level.

Nigeria remains one of the most dangerous countries in the world for students.

Being a student in Nigeria is like life on the shifting sand. One of the victims of the famous Chibok abduction of 2014, Amina Ali, still recalls that shift: “One minute we were students, the next we were running, unsure of where safety was. What stays with me most is the fear in everyone’s eyes … that feeling that life had just taken a turn I could never prepare for.”

A decade after Amina and 275 other schoolgirls were abducted from their hostels in the country’s North East, sparking the global #BringBackOurGirls campaign, the violence that began as an extremist campaign against Western education has transformed into a multi-million-naira kidnapping industry affecting both public and private schools.

This tragic pattern repeated itself in Kebbi State on Monday, Nov. 17, where terrorists abducted at least 25 students of Government Girls’ Comprehensive Secondary School in Maga, Danko/Wasagu Local Government Area. The school’s Security Master, Hassan Yakubu, and Aliyu Shehu, a night watchguard, were killed in the attack. One of the students escaped during the abduction. 

The Chief of Army Staff has since directed troops to intensify rescue efforts — a move that highlights, yet again, how overstretched security forces currently are in responding to the surge in school-targeted abductions and other forms of criminality.

But even as the search continues, the wider picture remains grim. A HumAngle review of verified media reports and investigations by human rights organisations shows that at least 1,880 students have been abducted or killed across Nigeria between 2014 and 2025.

These attacks have devastated communities across the country, especially in the North, and symbolise the collapse of security in spaces that should nurture the country’s future. From the ideological terror of Boko Haram in Yobe and Borno to the ransom-driven criminality of terrorist groups in Zamfara, Kaduna, and Niger, schools have become soft targets in a nation that has failed to learn from each tragedy.

The forgotten beginning 

Yet before the Chibok abduction shocked the world, there was Buni Yadi — a quiet town in Yobe State that witnessed one of the most gruesome assaults on education in Nigeria’s recent history. On the night of February 25, 2014, Boko Haram stormed the Federal Government College, Buni Yadi, killing 29 male students as they slept.

HumAngle’s earlier reporting reconstructed the night through survivor accounts: dormitories set ablaze, gunmen shouting “Allahu Akbar”, and teenagers trapped in locked hostels consumed by fire and bullets. 

It was a deliberate massacre — not for ransom, not for negotiation — but to send a message that “Western education is forbidden”. The world barely noticed. Two months later, Boko Haram struck again, this time abducting 276 schoolgirls from Chibok.

Buni Yadi, therefore, stands as the forgotten beginning of Nigeria’s school-terror era — an early signal of what would follow when ideological war met state neglect. One of the boys who survived, Mohammed Ibrahim, would eventually graduate from Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University in Bauchi State. His journey underscores how survival is not an end but the start of a long struggle to reclaim education and self. Mohammed did not have an easy time going back to school after his experience of the massacre. 

“Honestly, after the incidents, I hated school,” he said. “Many things contributed to the attack. Firstly, there was a lack of security. Before the incident, there was no single security personnel in the area; they said they would provide, but none were around. They took away the ones operating in the area; people were saying that it means there was no safety since they took away the security personnel in the area.”

From ideology to industry

Six years after the Buni Yadi and Chibok incident, armed groups and terrorists in Nigeria’s North West realised that abducting students brought instant ransom, political leverage, and media attention. What began as religious fundamentalism had by then morphed into an extortionist criminal enterprise.

In December 2020, the first large-scale operation of this kind happened at Government Science Secondary School Kankara, where 344 boys were abducted from their school dormitories by terrorists. Within days, video footage surfaced showing the terrified boys surrounded by their abductors, who pledged allegiance to Boko Haram — a claim later linked to a loosely affiliated terrorist faction.

That single event inspired copycat kidnappings across the region: Jangebe (Zamfara, 2021), Kagara (Niger, 2021), Tegina (Niger, 2021), and Birnin Yauri (Kebbi, 2021).

In Birnin Yauri, the day began like any other exam morning. Rebecca James, one of the abducted students, said she was 30 minutes into writing her paper for the day, Financial Accounting, when the first sounds came — distant gunshots, shouts, and the sudden rush of feet. “I was confused because it sounded strange,” she recalled.

As the students scrambled for safety, Rebecca tried to find her sisters in the chaos, but a teacher ordered everyone back into the hall so they could be “in one place”. The gunshots, however, grew closer, and students hid in the side rooms until the main door was forced open. “They continued shooting guns — ceilings, everywhere — helter-skelter,” she said. The terrorists kicked down doors, dragged terrified students from hiding, and fired into windows, injuring at least one student in the leg before marching a group towards the gate and loading them into a white car. “Last last, we were kidnapped,” she summed up.

Unlike the ideological attacks of Boko Haram, many of these more recent operations are driven by ransom and carried out by local militia networks with deep knowledge of their terrain and communities. Yet for the children at the centre, the distinction between ideology and crass greed is irrelevant; in both cases, the classroom becomes a trap. And this trap is often sprung most brutally on girls.

Girls as primary targets

In school abduction incidents where gender data is available, girls accounted for nearly two-thirds of all abducted students. This imbalance stems mainly from the targeting of all-female schools — a pattern rooted in both ideological and exploitative motives. Key examples include:

• Chibok (2014) – 276 girls abducted by Boko Haram; 98 remain unaccounted for.
• Dapchi (2018) – 110 girls taken, Leah Sharibu remains in captivity.
• Jangebe (2021) – 279 girls kidnapped, later released after government negotiation.

For girls like Rebecca, gender was explicitly weaponised. During her captivity, she remembers being told that their abductors would hold onto the girls because they were “more important than the male” — more valuable for ransom and more painful for families to lose. “They were saying we are the female ones … they said that the female ones, if they stayed long in a place, parents will feel more,” she said. 

Rebecca and other girls were also forcefully married off during captivity. They suffered repeated sexual abuse that led to some of them, one as young as 14, getting pregnant and giving birth. Even after their release, the terror group reached out, wanting the babies returned to them.

In contrast, the Kankara and Birnin Yauri abductions targeted boys’ or mixed schools, indicating that while both genders are vulnerable, female students face compounded risks — sexual violence, forced marriage, and sex trafficking.

The gendered nature of these attacks has left deep scars on communities, where parents now weigh the risks of educating daughters against the supposed safety of keeping them at home. 

For some survivors, the experience has hardened their resolve to fight back through education itself. Rebecca, who was once an accounting student, has switched to the arts with a clear goal: “I changed … just to study law,” she explained, adding that it will enable her to defend the vulnerable, especially girls. 

Geographical spread and shifting threats

In 2014, attacks on schools were primarily confined to the North East — Borno and Yobe — under the shadow of Boko Haram. By 2020, they had shifted westward to the North West and North Central regions, reflecting the fragmentation of armed groups and the spread of insecurity.

This expansion reshaped the threat landscape:

• North East (Boko Haram and ISWAP): Attacks driven by ideology, targeting state education systems and female students.
• North West (terrorists and armed groups): Abductions motivated by ransom, tribal vendettas, and power projection.
• North Central, especially in Niger and Kaduna: Mixed motives — ransom, political signalling, and territorial assertion.

This diffusion of violence has complicated response strategies. Each zone now faces a different kind of threat, with varying ideological, economic, and criminal drivers — all converging on the same target: students. 

For many pupils in rural areas, this unpredictability shapes daily life, as rumours of an impending attack now spread as fast as exam timetables. 

“Anytime students hear about terrorists, they should not doubt whether they are coming or not,” Rebecca advised. “They should immediately leave such areas and go back to their homes for safety, not waiting until they see the terrorists  with their own eyes.”

The human cost

Every figure in the tally masks a story of trauma. Survivors of Buni Yadi, Chibok, Dapchi, Birnin Yauri, and Kuriga describe recurring nightmares, social stigma, and broken dreams. For some, school can no longer be taken for granted. 

“Education used to feel simple — just books, teachers, friends,” Amina said. “But, after the attack, I now see my future as something I must fight for … I want to prove that what happened will not destroy the dreams I still carry inside me.”

Rebecca echoes that determination, but channels it into a specific ambition. Her anger is directed at what she sees as terrorists who wield more firepower than the state. “These terrorists have guns more powerful than military personnel here in Nigeria, which makes it the government’s fault,” she said. Her response was to lean harder into school, not away from it: “The incident made me more eager to read and learn about my country.”

Many who returned found their schools destroyed or abandoned. Some struggle with reintegration, unable to sit in classrooms without flashbacks. Others, particularly girls who bore children in captivity, face rejection from their families and communities.

Hafsat Bello, a counsellor working with young students in northern Nigeria, said: “The school, which was once seen as a means to a brighter future, is now viewed to be the most dangerous place for students. Children with dreams so beautiful now fear the very garden where their dreams would bloom. The biggest gap is that the Safe Schools Initiative is still largely theoretical in many communities. Policies exist on paper, but implementation is weak and inconsistent.”

In many of these communities, enrolment has dropped dramatically. UNICEF estimates that over 10.5 million Nigerian children are out of school, with the majority concentrated in the North, where insecurity is a leading driver. 

In 2014, the Safe Schools Initiative (SSI) was launched to prevent the collapse of schools. More than $20 million was pledged by donors and had all been received as of 2o20. The initiative was managed through the Nigeria Safe Schools Initiative Multi-Donor Trust Fund, which was overseen by the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) for contributions, disbursements, and project implementation.

The funds were used for various projects, including the construction of fences, classrooms, and the provision of emergency communication tools. 

However, the implementation of these projects was uneven. While some urban and semi-urban schools benefited, many rural schools still lacked basic safety infrastructure, according to a 2021 report by the National Institute for Legislative and Democratic Studies (NILDS) and the Development Research and Projects Centre (dRPC). 

The report noted that many schools were still without perimeter fencing, trained guards, and emergency response systems. A steering committee, which included representatives from both donor organisations and the government, audited the SSI project to determine its efficacy. Although financial statements were made available, the NILDS-dRPC report revealed notable deficiencies in monitoring and accountability. The report shows that many projects did not undergo independent audits and that there was a lack of transparency regarding the allocation of funds at the state and local levels. 

“For this initiative to truly work, every school must have real physical protection, early-warning and rapid-alert systems, continuous emergency-response training, and a transparent accountability system that tracks how safety funds are used,” said Hafsat.

For Nura Suleiman, the Vice Principal (Academic) at Government Girls Secondary School (GGSS) Jangebe, Zamfara State, the scars of abduction and violence against schoolchildren are beyond emotional trauma, as it has dampened the morale of pupils towards education.

“From my experience, abduction and attacks affected students’ willingness to return to classrooms negatively,” Suleiman told HumAngle. “Especially in the rural northern communities where most of the students ran out of the school.”

The 2021 mass abduction of schoolgirls from Jangebe remains a haunting reminder of the vulnerability of Nigeria’s educational institutions. Despite the launch of the Safe Schools Initiative, Suleman believes the gaps remain vivid due to poor implementation.

“The practical steps which could make schools genuinely safer are to stop insurgency in the country by any means,” he said. “I mean either by fighting or negotiation.”

Suleiman emphasised that school safety encompasses more than just physical infrastructure. He explained that proper safety can only be achieved when students, teachers, and communities feel secure in their environment. 

The principal noted that his school has made efforts to boost students’ morale and encourage their return to the classrooms. In collaboration with the NEEM Foundation, a leading crisis response organisation working with individuals and communities affected by violence, GGSS Jangebe’s Guidance and Counselling department provides mental health support to students who have survived abduction. 

Yet the Jangebe experience also underscores a broader pattern: the support offered to survivors varies sharply from one case to another, leaving many children without the continuity of care they need.

Uneven support, unequal recovery

What happens after rescue reflects this inconsistency. For some, like Rebecca, there has been a rare attempt at comprehensive care.

On her return from captivity, she and other released students were taken to the hospital for medical treatment and meals, then eventually placed in placements in what she calls “the best and most expensive school in Nigeria”. She describes feeling “special every day because of what they have done for us,” noting that the authorities provide a pocketful of stuff and check in on their health.

Crucially, she says, they were encouraged to believe it was not too late to restart school after two lost years. Counsellors and guardians stressed that “age is just a number” and that education remained open to them if they chose it. She repeatedly cites the role of a mentor she calls ‘Brother Celine’, who helped them return to the classroom. “I cannot stop thanking the government for everything they have done for us,” she said.

Amina’s post-rescue experience tells a different story. For her, life after returning has been, in her words, “a mix of hope and struggle”. Some organisations offered counselling, tuition, or basic supplies, but she and many other Chibok survivors still feel like they are rebuilding essentially on their own: “The emotional healing, the financial challenges, the need for real protection — these things are still not fully met. We are grateful for any help, but there is still a long road ahead.” 

The contrast between these two trajectories — one shaped by sustained, structured support, the other by patchy assistance and lingering vulnerability — mirrors the broader inconsistency of Nigeria’s approach. Where you were abducted from, which government was in power, which NGO took an interest, and how much media attention your case drew can determine how fully you are allowed to rebuild your life.

Lessons from a decade of failure

The testimonies of survivors sharpen the picture that the statistics already suggest. 

The Buni Yadi massacre, for example, was an early alarm that signalled a war on education, yet the failure to strengthen school protections afterwards allowed abductions to spread with little resistance. As the crisis deepened, a ransom economy took root. Kidnappings became a lucrative enterprise in which armed groups in Zamfara and Kaduna negotiated openly, collecting payments that financed further attacks and entrenched the cycle.

These dynamics have been worsened by persistent security gaps. Response times remain slow, intelligence sharing between states and federal forces is inconsistent, and rural policing is largely absent. Former hostages notice that their captors often carry superior firepower. “How will a terrorist have a more powerful gun and bullets than soldiers in the military?” Rebecca asked rhetorically—a question that has agitated many Nigerians.

At the policy level, the gaps are just as stark. Nigeria endorsed the Safe Schools Declaration in 2015, yet implementation in the states most affected remains minimal, leaving the lessons of Chibok and Birnin Yauri largely unheeded. 

Gender adds another layer of vulnerability: female students are singled out both ideologically and practically. Rebecca’s recollection that girls were kept because parents “feel more for females” exposes the calculated use of daughters as leverage. 

All of this feeds into a profound erosion of trust. Each attack deepens scepticism about the state’s ability—or willingness—to protect its citizens, weakening the community cooperation that early-warning signals depend on. 

Even where authorities appear to have learnt some operational lessons, such as closing schools pre-emptively when threats arise, the underlying issues of rural insecurity, corruption, and impunity remain largely untouched.

And the consequences of those unresolved failures are visible not only in testimonies and statistics, but also from above. Satellite imagery shows that these classrooms were stolen. It captures a timeline of destruction, militarisation, and neglect that follow these school attacks.

FGC Buni Yadi remains a shadow of its former self. In 2010, it appeared as a modest rural school; by March 2015, the satellite pass captured the aftermath of the massacre — burnt buildings and scorched earth where children once learned. Reconstruction began around late 2018, yet the compound stands today as a restored shell, a reminder that almost everything was set ablaze.

Although GGSS Chibok was not torched, it lost its educational purpose to humanitarian needs after the incident. Over the decade, the school became a shelter for survivors rather than students. The surrounding town is militarised with defensive trenches, and the school vicinity is filled with tents

A similar fate met GSC Kagara. Satellite views show the school ringed by trenches, turning an academic environment into a militarised space.

The warning visible at FGC Birnin Yauri remains unsettling. Unlike other locations where defences appeared after the tragedy, imagery shows this landscape was encircled by trenches long before the abduction. This proves, as reported, that the community lived under the threat well before the attack happened.

For LGEA Kuriga, the view from space captures the slow impact of neglect. There are no burnt structures, but the gradual decay of roofing sheets and fading paint testify to fear-induced neglect. GGSS Jangebe reflects the same pattern: from above, the compound looks orderly, yet ground-level footage — including scenes from a BBC Africa Eye documentary — shows shattered windows, damaged doors, and stripped classrooms. It appears intact only from a distance.

A few affected schools, such as Greenfield University, GSSS Kankara, and Dapchi, bear no visible scars from space. No scorched earth or defensive trenches. Their normal appearance is misleading, showing that the most profound scars of Nigeria’s mass school abductions often lie beyond what satellites can record.

A nation still unprepared

Despite years of promises, Nigeria remains reactive rather than proactive in matters of insecurity. Officials still rush to the scenes of abductions, issue statements of condemnation, and announce task forces — only for the cycle to repeat months later.

In communities like Buni Yadi, buildings have been reconstructed, but the psychological wounds remain. Survivors grow into adulthood carrying invisible wounds, while new students study under the same shadow of fear.

The Kuriga abduction of March 2024, in which 227 pupils were taken, shows that little has changed. Although 137 were eventually rescued, the incident underscores how unprotected rural schools remain — and how quickly armed groups can strike, even with military presence nearby. 

For survivors such as Mohammed Ibrahim, simply graduating from university is an act of quiet defiance. For Amina and Rebecca, returning to the classroom and choosing careers in law or public service is a way of pushing back against those who tried to silence them.

But their determination does not diminish the responsibility of the state; it underscores it. Amina offers a clear warning to those in power: “Do not wait until it happens again … protect those schools like your own children are inside them.”

She believes Nigeria has learnt “some lessons, but not enough”. Continued reports of attacks and abductions, like the recent incident in Kebbi, reinforce this for her. “Until schools in every region are safe, until security becomes a priority and not a reaction, the risks will continue,” she said.

Na’empere Daniel, who survived the Birnin Yauri abduction alongside Rebecca after years in captivity, has similar thoughts. “Sometimes, it feels like Nigeria hasn’t fully learned from what happened to us,” she said. “Our pain should have changed things, but many students are still living through the same fear. No one deserves to experience what we went through.”

The violence has evolved, but the state’s response has barely shifted. Until education is treated as a security priority rather than a social service, the classrooms of northern Nigeria will remain haunted by ghosts of unprotected children.

The question now is not whether it will happen again, but when and to whom it will happen. Survivors like Rebecca and Amina have done their part: they remember the gunshots in the exam hall, the fear in their classmates’ eyes, the long nights of captivity — and they have turned those memories into vocal demands for justice and protection.

Whether Nigeria listens — and acts — will determine if the next generation can learn without fear, or if more of its classrooms will be stolen.

To make learning more resilient, Hafsat Bello, the counsellor who works with young students, stresses the need to adapt education to current realities. She highlights the importance of flexible learning models, noting that “in conflict zones, learning should not stop simply because the physical school is unsafe,” suggesting mobile classrooms, community hubs, radio lessons, or temporary safe spaces to keep children engaged.

Hafsat also underscores trauma-informed teaching, explaining that teachers need training to recognise signs of trauma and adjust their approach, because “a child who has witnessed violence will not learn the same way as a child who feels safe.” She emphasises that every school, particularly in high-risk areas, must have clear emergency response plans in addition to standard timetables.

Teachers themselves require protection and support, including emotional care, hazard allowances, and a sense of security, as their stability directly impacts students’ learning. She further calls for strong collaboration between schools, security agencies, and communities, stressing that education cannot operate in isolation and must be supported consistently, not only after attacks.

“Education must evolve to meet the reality of the children we serve. If we want to protect their futures, then resilience must be built into the system, not as an afterthought, but as a priority,” the counsellor added. 

HumAngle’s CEO/Editor-in-Chief, Ahmad Salkida, has been announced as a 2026 Yale Peace Fellow. One of 14 leaders selected from thousands of applications, Ahmad will be undergoing extensive training across Yale University in the United States, the UAE, and virtual long-term sessions with his cohort and faculty.

The Yale Peace Fellowship is a yearly programme hosted by the International Leadership Centre (ILC) at the prestigious Yale University. According to its website, the fellowship “brings together 16 rising leaders each year who are working on the frontlines of conflict prevention, peacebuilding, and post-conflict reconciliation. Fellows come from a range of professional backgrounds—including civil society, diplomacy, politics, religion, and social enterprise—and are selected for their demonstrated impact and commitment to reach their full potential as peace leaders.”

Ahmad has worked in the peace and conflict field in Nigeria for decades, and is most known for his role in documenting the Boko Haram insurgency in Nigeria since it first broke out. It was he who dispatched the first newspaper article on Muhammad Yusuf, the founder of Boko Haram, on July 23 2006.  He was often the first and sometimes only journalist to break major news regarding the war in its early days, sounding the alarm on various emerging threats. He was eventually exiled in March 2013 as a result of his journalism. A few years later, despite having tried to work closely with the government in addressing threats like the Chibok abduction, he was declared wanted by the Nigerian army and forced to return to the country with his family. Though it quickly became clear that there was no evidence of wrongdoing by him, leading the army to clear him of the allegations after he turned himself in, significant damage had already been done to his life and career, as he has documented.

In 2020, he founded the conflict reporting platform, HumAngle Media, and three years later, the peacebuilding advocacy arm, HumAngle Foundation. During the past five years, both organisations have worked to advance transitional justice in Nigeria, conducting in-depth investigations, reporting, and advocacy on conflict, humanitarian, and development issues. He has led HumAngle to global recognition, including the Michael Elliot Award, the Sigma awards, the West Africa Media Excellence Award (twice), the CJID awards, the Livingston awards, and many others.

Ahmad is joined by 13 other leaders from all over the world working to advance peace in their individual countries. Commenting on his selection, he said he was pleased to have been selected for the highly competitive opportunity and looked forward to taking some time away to interact with the world-class experts that Yale University is known for when it comes to global affairs and conflict studies. 

“Being selected for this fellowship validates the work I am doing with HumAngle, and I look forward to gaining more insight to improve our processes after the fellowship,” he said. “Peace is achievable in our lifetime. And fellowships like this ensure that that belief is not only a feeling, but a destination that can be reached through small incremental steps.”

Obidah Habila Albert, an alumnus of the third cohort of HumAngle’s Accountability Fellowship, is among the 15 Nigerian journalists selected for the Digital Public Infrastructure Journalism (DPIJ) Fellowship, which will run from October 2025 to April 2026. 

After receiving over 200 applications, 45 candidates were shortlisted, and 15 finalists emerged from 14 media organisations, including The Guardian Newspaper, Premium Times, Foundation for Investigative Journalism, and TheCable.

Organised by the Ghana-based Media Foundation for West Africa (MFWA) in partnership with Co-Develop, the fellowship is a flagship initiative that aims to strengthen public awareness and participation through journalism, promoting the adoption of Digital Public Infrastructures (DPIs) and Digital Public Goods and Services (DPGS).

Obidah, who is excited about his selection, said he applied for the opportunity because it aligns with his curiosity about technology’s impact on everyday life and how their stories could be more effectively documented.

“By the end of the programme, I want to understand DPI and DPGs better and tell stories about them. I hope my stories will drive conversations and help more people and policymakers in Nigeria and beyond to pay attention and take action,” he said. 

During his fellowship with HumAngle, Obidah reported extensively on conflict and peacebuilding efforts in Nigeria’s North East, as well as the rising cost-of-living crisis affecting vulnerable communities. His experience, he said, deepened his commitment to reporting stories that highlight the human dimensions of development and policy issues.

According to Sulemana Braimah, Executive Director of MFWA, the DPIJ Fellowship is a strategic investment in shaping informed media narratives around inclusive design, implementation, and the uptake of DPI development in areas such as policy, governance, and utility. 

The selected fellows and their newsrooms will receive grants to support reporting projects, as well as editorial mentorship, training, and access to resources on DPIs and DPGS. Each fellow is expected to produce at least six original stories before the end of the fellowship on issues relating to inclusive digital identification, digital payments, data exchange, and other digital safety issues. Fellows will also join a growing network of alumni across West Africa.

Last year, HumAngle’s Investigations Editor, Ibrahim Adeyemi, was selected for the West Africa cohort of the same fellowship, where he produced several stories exploring the intersection of DPIs and national security.