Lives

As a pariah child in search of Islamic knowledge, Goni Abubakar has no clue what it means to hold a gun and pull the trigger. He is just an almajiri who runs errands for his cleric master in Bama, a town in Borno State, northeastern Nigeria. He learns to recite Quran verses by heart; he is one of the brightest pupils under the cleric’s tutelage. In the beginning, the messages are clear: have faith in Allah, the Prophet Muhammad, and the Day of Judgement. Every pupil carries these heavy words around and keenly believes in them. They say the Quranic verses that match those words by heart: “O you who have believed, fear Allah and believe in His Messenger; He will [then] give you a double portion of His mercy and make for you a light by which you will walk and forgive you; and Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.”

The preaching is pious until peril pierces the heart of the preacher. 

The teacher sells groceries, and Goni doubles as his shop assistant. Detached from his parents as a child, he was now a teen, tending only to the bidding of his mentor. Dozens of children are on this path to seek knowledge, but Goni is the teacher’s delight: fierce, smart, and completely loyal. Their earliest form of education is the Tsangaya, a traditional Quranic education in northern Nigeria, and most of them have not attended any formal secular school before they are thrown under the control of a man they all call “mallam”. The morning and evening classes are held in the shade of a tree and are led by the teacher, who preaches to them the ways of Islam.

Kids like Goni know what it means to grow up in a local community. A child can sing through the neighbourhood, begging anyone there for food and water. Local farmers prosper in peace after months of tilling and cultivating the land. People sleep at night without fear of being raided by assailants or militants. Fear and terror consumed the town when Boko Haram’s strange ideologies spread like wildfire into the communities. Goni’s teacher is among the first to embrace the ideologies propagated by Boko Haram’s founder, Mohammed Yusuf. As his preaching changed, his way of life changed too, beaming terror and extremism infused into the hearts of children under his mentorship.

In 2009, when Boko Haram went underground before re-emerging in 2010, Goni was already a 12-year-old. Too young and naive to ask questions, he and dozens of children followed their tutor to join the insurgent group that would later destabilise Nigeria. Now, in the northeastern region, the Boko Haram insurgency has uprooted over three million people and killed over 350,000, with government authorities failing to rein in the deadly scourge. Armed violence has spread beyond the region’s borders into parts of the northwestern and north-central regions.

Goni would become a grown man, swallowing the rulings of terrorists until he could no longer bear them. He now seeks redemption and reintegration through the state-backed deradicalisation programme. While it appears he has left a life of violence and attacks for good, it’s not that simple. For him and many other men in his shoes, post-Boko Haram life presents some puzzles that test the true efficacy of the deradicalisation scheme.

Are the terrorist deserters genuinely seeking redemption or only trying to survive? For months – between November 2025 and May 2026 – HumAngle probed the complexities of the former insurgents’ lives, documenting their journeys from the past to the present, their struggles to become civilians again, their secret frontline deals with the military, and the fragile peace their reintegration poses to the civilian population.

Snaring the cat

When Goni joined Boko Haram as a teen, his master’s preachings had switched from admonishing children under his watch to have strong faith in their religion to brainwashing them into a life of violence. They embraced it, truly believing that spilling the blood of people who don’t believe in their ideology was the clearest pathway to paradise. Elsewhere in Borno, in the Malam Fatori area, Ali Bukhar also listened to the sermons of Boko Haram’s jihadists. Those sermons summoned the beast in him and took away the best of his humanity. He joined them convinced that true salvation was immersed in the ideology of killing and maiming.

“In the preachings, they’d emphasise that if you died in the cause, you are a martyr. That you are going to paradise straight,” Ali recalls. He joined as an adult in 2014 during the peak of the Boko Haram emergence. About five months after joining the group, he was asked to attend training. His handlers took him to a riverine area and gave him a gun. “They have a specific instructor whose job is solely to train new intakes. You’d train for about four to five months. After the training, they’d return you to the Markaz [Arabic word for headquarters or centre]. And when it is time to go out for a fight, they’d give you guns.”

Suleiman Mohammad tells a slightly different story. He joined Boko Haram in 2013, during the first Baga attack. The militants and the military had been locked in a fierce battle that cost hundreds of civilians their lives and thousands their homes. A retaliatory raid after a military base was attacked in Baga took a bloody turn for mostly civilians, brewing a trust deficit in the operational methods of Nigerian forces in their fight against terrorism. The insurgent group took advantage of the situation to recruit young people into its unholy ways. Suleiman was among hundreds of people brought into the system after the Baga bloody saga and the uprising that followed. He was a herder in Malam Fatori and had grown up through the local Tsangaya education system.

“So after the Baga attack, I was contacted by the fighters who turned out to be from my village,” Suleiman reminisces. “We studied together when we attended Tsangaya and Islamiyya a long time ago. They told me how the other brothers were with them. They told me stories of how they recite the Quran collectively and also wage ‘holy war’ together. Then they invited me to join them. So, we made an appointment to meet at Mairari.”

A week later, the terrorists came as agreed and met with Suleiman’s father in his home. 

“Your son is joining us in the cause of Allah. He’d work for Allah,” the terrorists say. 

“Allah’s cause?” the father wonders. “Jihad is mandatory for all muslims. And since he has agreed to go with you, I have no objections.” 

The terrorists had come with guns and machetes, Suleiman notes, suggesting that his father was made to agree under duress. “That was how I joined them. We had carried out several attacks ever since. From Mairari, Tungushe, and others. In fact, we held Mairari – under Magumeri – captive for quite some time before it was recaptured by the military.”

People joined the Boko Haram insurgency for different reasons. For Goni and his cohorts, it was a case of misguided faith rooted in brainwashing and psychological manipulation. The story is different for many others. The fire of the burning insurgency started from the charismatic oratory and radical sermons by the founder of Boko Haram, Mohammed Yusuf, between 2002 and 2009. Since at least 2021, HumAngle has interviewed dozens of defectors who revealed why they joined the deadly group before surrendering to a deradicalisation scheme organised by the government. Mohammed took advantage of the dysfunctions within the Nigerian state to campaign against a secular system of governance and, by extension, democracy.

Testimonies from defectors and custodians of Boko Haram’s history reveal that the post-2009 state repression, especially the actual brutality of the Nigerian military and police against civilians, and the uprising that trailed it, were among the factors that drove young people into insurgency. At the time, “Tura Takai Bango” was the mantra for the agitation, literally meaning “they had been pushed to the wall”. The era and the ugly events that unfolded encapsulate the desperation that leads civilians to affiliate with insurgents. When the state’s counter-insurgency tactics involve collective punishment, the civilian population often finds itself caught in a “double jeopardy” where both the state and the insurgents are viewed as existential threats. 

Isa Alamndiri, one of the victims of the state repression, told HumAngle how he witnessed the summary execution of young people in 2016, in the Marte Local Government Area (LGA), on the grounds that they were shielding terrorists. “They came and gathered all of us in the village. They then separated the elderly and killed all the youths. They shot over 30 youths that day. Their reason was that we were harbouring Boko Haram in our midst,” Isa says. 

Another witness of what many believe pushed youths in the state to the wall, Musa Kurama, recalls that the Nigerian military invaded his village in Meleri, also in Marte, to burn his house, among many others, to the ground, saying that the entire community was a hideout for terrorists. The cycle of violence forced young adults and naive teenagers to take the insurgents’ offer of “protection”, which was a predatory alternative to state-sponsored destruction.

Boko Haram also targeted schools for attacks, deliberately conducting mass kidnappings such as in Chibok and Dapchi to enforce their radical ideology by making secular educational institutions unsafe. This insurgent tactic strategically provides a supply of young captives who were groomed as fighters or forced into “marriages” that facilitate the group’s long-term sustainability. The state’s failure to secure these environments has led to the closure of over 600 schools in the region, creating a lost generation of children who are more susceptible to recruitment because of the absence of alternative futures.

Jihad: ‘Pathway to paradise’

Goni has grown up knowing nothing but violence and bloodshed, and now claims he’s out of the messy circle. He smiles as he speaks, but when he remembers how he joined other terrorists to pillage villages, uproot people from their homes, farmlands, and abduct scores, he furrows his brow. 

“Before we go out, we would prepare. They’d mobilise 100 to 200 fighters, give them arms, and say, ‘We are going out to wage a holy war’.  Then we would charge into military barracks,” he tells HumAngle curtly. “I believe we were deceived by our masters because they don’t practice what they preach and twist religious verses to suit their evil acts and intentions.”

Regardless of how and why they joined, newly recruited insurgents are made to believe that killing and spilling the blood of anyone not following their templates of violence has only one name: jihad. Most defectors we spoke to corroborated this during separate interviews in 2025 and later in 2026.

Experts and scholars in political science, human rights, and peace and conflict studies argue that Boko Haram weaponised the concept of jihad to manipulate its followers into believing keenly in killing and destroying those who disagree with their ideology. In the 2021 issue of the Al-Hikmah Journal on Social Sciences and Education, for example, Issa Muhammad-Jamiu, a researcher at Kogi State University in North Central Nigeria, notes that Boko Haram’s ideology contradicts Islamic injunctions. The most disturbing aspect, he states, is the condemnation of any scholarly verdict that falls short of their view. 

“How could they attribute Islam to the prohibition of Western education, which has become a necessity, if not compulsory, to Muslims in the contemporary world? Do they mean that they are more knowledgeable and more committed to Islam than those Companions and Tabi’un who studied foreign cultures and sciences for the interest of Muslim communities?” Issa ponders.

Two sides of the coin

As Goni speaks, his lips look pale and peeling. He’s been battling typhoid and malaria and is still receiving treatment. He carries a gentle demeanour that betrays the terror he had perpetrated, and wears a blank face wrinkled with emotionlessness. For him, peace is a no-brainer when violence is pervasive.

He quips, throwing on a long, tedious smile when asked what he thinks of the concept of peace. “Peace tastes good,” he says. “Living peacefully among loved ones is greater than any other thing. I was in Njimia before leaving. I had worked in several places, including Gazuwa, my birthplace. What made me leave was recent developments. The conflict between the factions and the injustice. So, I took my weapon and left. I arrived at Konduga, where I was received. They then brought us to Bama and then to Hajj Camp.”

Goni believes that embracing peace simply means walking away from a life of pain, violence, and gnashing of teeth. Dwelling in the forest with terrorists means dining with the devil, he says. His moral postulation and spiritual freedom were destroyed in the terrorist camp. He had access to the Quran and understood its teachings, but every verse he read had to be interpreted in accordance with the sect’s teachings. He had no freedom of thought or understanding of whatever he read from the scripture. He had no meaningful life in the forest, he says, apart from destroying people’s lives.

He and many of the terrorist deserters we spoke to said they experienced pain in its most extreme form. Whenever they sustained gunshot wounds during field battles with the military, they returned to the forest almost dead. They were being treated by their locally-trained doctors, whom many of the ex-combatants described as quacks. Most times, they gave them dangerous, addictive opioids such as Tramadol and Refinol. They became addicted to these drugs to escape their daily ordeals, even after healing from the wounds. 

“They punished us for taking hard drugs they introduced to us in the first place,” Goni complains. “Sometimes a fighter could be killed just because he takes hard drugs. When they knew it was bad, why did they use it to treat us?”

Many terrorists decided to surrender to the military for different reasons. One major cause of mass defections from the terrorist camps was the sudden demise of Abubakar Shekau, the Boko Haram gang leader who took over the mantle of terror from Mohammed Yusuf. There had been cracks within the insurgent group, leading to the rise of the Islamic State for West African Province (ISWAP), which was formed as a rebel group against Shekau’s camp. Another thing that followed the death of Shekau in 2021 was disease and hunger outbreaks. 

The Nigerian military took advantage of Shekau’s death to launch several offensive attacks on the terrorist dens in northeastern Nigeria, destroying their logistics bases. That year, the military said it recorded thousands of defections from terrorists who surrendered to embrace peace. Once they submit themselves to the military after years of committing criminal atrocities, they are subjected to deradicalisation through the Borno Model.

HumAngle interviewed several Boko Haram deserters to examine their understanding of peace after committing grave crimes against the human population in the region. Many of them curiously oversimplified the concept, reducing it to simply switching sides and moving from deadly armed violence to living an average civilian life.

“From my understanding, peace is us leaving the group,” Ali simply says and goes ahead to recount how he joined other fighters to enslave girls for sex after kidnapping them from their homes, schools, and farms. He had been through hell as a former Boko Haram member, and now seeks solace in embracing peace by surrendering to the military. He had been imprisoned by his superiors in the terror camp and asked to surrender his arms, but he refused. “I buried it where they could not see it. I was locked up for three months. When they released me, I went and dug up my gun and left them,” he recalls.

For him and several defectors, returning to the civilian community is an exciting prospect. Despite the horror they inflicted on civilian communities as terrorists, they consider living with ordinary locals again, especially close to their families, as a peaceful reconciliation of their horrible past. “We were ignorant when we did those things in the past. But now we know better,” one of them, Abubakar Saleh, says. He was a Boko Haram commander who led dozens of fighters to dislodge communities, rape women and girls and subjugate civilian communities under terrorist control.

He has now returned to Maiduguri with his family. His wife had just given birth when we spoke to him, and he has settled well into the civilian community. To him, peace is relief from the pain that comes with being a terrorist leader. Although he enjoyed authority as a commanding fighter, his life in the forest was miserable, as he was always on the move to evade military operations and surveillance.

“Life here is better,” he affirms. “It is more comfortable and peaceful. In the forest, there is no rest. You’d hunt daily like a lion. Always changing locations. But here, no attacks.”

For civilian casualties of the terror perpetrated by many of these terrorist deserters, however, peace doesn’t come easily. For years, victims of insurgency in the northeastern region have longed for peace and reparations. Thousands of displaced people not only lost their homes, but also lost hope in ever rebuilding their lives or returning to their settlements. In parts of Borno, especially at the Shuwari displacement site, displaced people feed on the leftovers from former terrorists undergoing the government’s deradicalisation programme, a situation that has created an atmosphere of distrust and inequalities. When the Borno State government began a resettlement scheme for displaced people, they were promised protection and stipends to rebuild their lives. Many of them ended up being re-displaced by terrorists and would not get the opportunity to rebuild their lives.

Ensuring peace and justice in the North East is far more complicated than many terrorist deserters have assumed, says Ndubuisi Ani, a Senior Researcher at the Institute of Security Studies. The transitional justice expert told HumAngle that the defectors’ curious understanding of peace undermines the pains and level of destruction civilians have witnessed at the hands of terrorists. He argues that peace and justice cannot be achieved in tackling violent extremism unless there’s inclusivity, good governance, and stability.

“The state must understand that there are basic needs to be responded to (on the side of victims),” Ndubuisi explains. “A lot of communities need a lot of social contracts on the ground.”

The security expert further explains that any transitional justice scheme by the government must be victim-centred. He advised that the state must go back to its original duty of protecting citizens and ensuring peace and tranquillity in society.

“You’ve not psychologically prepared actors. How do you let the victims understand?” he asked, stating that the government can’t successfully reintegrate terrorist deserters back into society without proper public engagement. “The intent is good, but the approach is the problem.”

Seeking peace and redemption

Like many terrorist deserters, Goni accepts that he has lived a complicated life of violence and horror. This is not the time for regret, he says. It’s a moment to seek forgiveness, to retrace his steps, and perhaps to wash the blood from his own hands. When he arrived at the Hajj Camp in Maiduguri after surrendering to the military and going through the process of deradicalisation, he struggled with the guilt of the atrocities he had committed, and, to prove to the military that he had backed off from a life of bloodshed, he agreed to work in the field with soldiers fighting terrorists. He’s not alone in this. Several former combatants we spoke to said they decided to work as auxiliary operatives to fight alongside the military against Boko Haram, the same sect they once belonged to. Several other defectors noted that when they chose to work with the military – as a way to seek redemption – they were handed rifles, loaded onto the backs of patrol trucks, and sent directly into the marshes and forests they had recently fled.

Asked whether they were coerced into joining the military, Goni laughed before saying the escapade was never mandatory. 

“It is a choice,” he replies. “I may decide not to work with them again.”

It is a hard nut to crack, but the terrorist deserters say the military operatives have learned to work and walk with them.

“They arm us and take us with them. If, for instance, a Commanding Officer is going out for an operation, he’d request a certain amount of “repentants” from the Hajj Camp officials. And the officials would assign like 50 or 100 persons to him, depending on the scale of the operation,” Goni says.

By fighting the same people who recruited him into the monolithic Boko Haram camp as a teen, Goni says, he has freed himself from a lifetime of guilt. During his time with the killers, he recalls asking many of the fighters if they loved what they were doing. Those fighters feel trapped, he says; they’re homesick, but even their families have rejected them. Now that he has freed himself from the shackles of terrorism, he says he begs God for forgiveness. But while he seeks forgiveness for the atrocities he has committed, he would use every knowledge he has about the group to fight them back. That’s his way of seeking redemption.

“They give us food and allowances, and we give them intelligence. We show them the hideouts. Because we know the terrain better than they do. We know their fighting styles,” Goni brags, smiling and looking directly at the reporter. “We know their escape routes. Isn’t this helpful enough? Also, we lead the way. They’d follow behind. We charge in.”

Redemption through revenge

Ali’s life after Boko Haram is even more thrilling: he seeks redemption through revenge. He had fallen for peer pressure to join one of the most brutal terrorist organisations in existence, and his life had since remained terrifying. For years, he was a cog in the Boko Haram machine, serving with vim and vigour. He learned to repair military vehicles in the forest and became renowned as the sect’s mechanic. He would repair heavy military patrol vehicles seized by the insurgents or those stuck in the mud within the forest during ambushes.

Despite his servitude for Boko Haram’s cause, he says, his entire life with the terror group was a lie. He grew to realise that behind the Boko Haram ideology was a hail of deceit and human manipulation. Bamboozled with distorted interpretations of verses from the Quran, Ali recounts how he had joined hundreds of other fighters to trigger plague, tears, and horror in civilian communities in the name of holy war.

“The practice violates the preachings. My biggest reason was that the practice was not what the Prophet truly teaches,” he claims. “The commanders would usually stay behind, leaving a comfortable life, while the foot soldiers are left starving and fighting day and night.”

For Ali, the deal breaker with Boko Haram was during a chaotic raid in the Tungushe town of Borno. He had come under a heavy burst of military gunfire, which tore through his arm, shattering the bone. He had expected that the sect’s medical team would give him some extra care due to his critical condition, but they treated him like disposable property. 

“I was so humiliated by the sect’s medical team, as treatments were handled haphazardly,” he laments. “If it were the commanders, they would treat them swiftly with maximum care. But for fighters, there is usually no medical attention.”

For two straight years, he nursed the pain alone and grew bitter resentment for the sect and its ideologies. He realised he was nothing but a tool for achieving the commanders’ personal hunches and interests. One night, he slipped away, through the scrublands, trudging northward until he found himself around the military garrison in Monguno, where he fell flat on the ground and surrendered.

“After surrendering in Monguno, they took us to Hajj Camp in Maiduguri,” Ali tells HumAngle. “Days later, they brought forward an opportunity where you could help in the fight. You may decide to follow the military during attacks or provide them with intelligence. Whatever you think you can do. So, I said I want to fight. I have a friend who also fights alongside the soldiers. I chose to fight because I have realised that we were deceived by the group.”

Repentance or survival?

Unlike Ali and Goni, repentance has an entirely different meaning for Suleiman: it is an illusion or a political statement made by people in government. Calling him a “repentant Boko Haram” is an insult, he says. To him, that word is a subtle qualifier for a coward. With a cold voice and a sour look, he describes how he worked with ground troops to attack Timbuktu, Sambisa, and other terrorist hideouts.

His case is more of just switching sides than actual repentance. He dreads the term “repentant Boko Haram” and doesn’t hide it. As a terrorist, he lived for violence, pillaging villages and destroying people’s lives and properties. Following the rise of Abu Mushab al-Barnawi, a factional leader of the Boko Haram sect, Suleiman came under his command, joining over 100 fighters under his control. He had fought fiercely against the Nigerian military on many occasions, and he was feared for his precise brutality amid battles.

His cruelty had no bounds, as he had fought against top Nigerian military leaders, as he states, like Captain Bala, Manga, and Abu Ali, leaving scars on the town that are still visible today. He had also raided beyond Nigeria, maiming locals in the Niger Republic, especially in Diffa, Maine-Soroa, and Chabbal.

When factional infighting turned truly brutal, Suleiman chose to be on the safer side. Exhausted by the tireless internal slaughter, he left and surrendered to the military. Now, he does almost the same thing on the other side. The activity is the same, he notes, only the targets are different. 

“I am not comfortable with that name [repentant]. I don’t like it,” Suleiman says. He would frown and then laugh during the interview to convey the complexity of the terror drowning him. “In the forest, I followed someone’s commands. Here too, I am commanded and still branded repentant?”

He wears a worn Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) uniform during the interview with HumAngle, bragging about following soldiers to the battlefield against terrorists in Geidam, Marte, Kala-Bridge and Malam Fatori. Despite his defiance, however, he seems to have taken bullets for the military during counterterrorism raids in northeastern Nigeria. His four fingers are chopped off, and there are scars all over his body. It was during a joint offensive with Chadian forces in northern Monguno. An artillery explosion had torn through the military ranks and killed several soldiers and terrorist deserters fighting by their side. He would follow the forces into the fortified hideouts of Timbuktu and Sambisa, giving on-the-ground intel to navigate the terrain.

“I got this arm scar, and my fingers were chopped off while digging out a planted landmine about five months ago,” he says of another military raid he participated in. “The explosion killed two other ex-combatants and nine soldiers. When the engineer scouted and identified a planted bomb, he refused to dig it out. None of the soldiers did. So they asked me to do it. One of the wires sparked. Then it exploded. It also affected my leg.”

The deradicalisation scheme

The term “repentance”, which Suleiman and several other defectors loathe, is one of the modus operandi of the Operation Safe Corridor, a military-led deradicalisation and reintegration programme across northeastern states. Established in 2016, the programme has witnessed both criticism and appraisal from experts and affected citizens. The quest for transitional justice, following the mass atrocities committed by Boko Haram against the people and the government of Nigeria, pushed authorities to come up with peacebuilding efforts.

The federal government had introduced the judicial approach of mass trials of Boko Haram figures captured on the battlefield, but systemic failures of the legal system derailed the processes. With a conviction rate of less than 10 per cent after conducting mass trials of thousands of fighters between 2017 and 2020, public distrust in the judicial system grew rapidly. These efforts also faced hurdles due to limited resources and circumstantial evidence, as well as a massive backlog of approximately 10,000 suspected fighters awaiting trial. 

Following deficiencies in the judicial and military mechanisms, the government provided non-judicial options, such as the Operation Safe Corridor (OPSC) and, later, the Borno Model, a scheme designed to handle the mass defections of thousands of insurgents.

HumAngle reviewed at least two research studies that confirm our on-the-ground reporting on the deficiencies and the public misgivings against the counterinsurgency initiative. The independent studies, one led by Idayat Hassan, then of the Centre for Democracy and Development (CDD), and the other by Hassan-Taiwo Adebayo of the Institute of Security Studies (ISS), noted a systemic imbalance that seemed to favour the rehabilitation of perpetrators over the survival and justice of their victims. The disparity in the attention given to terrorist deserters also fueled widespread community resentment and birthed a narrative that terrorists are being pampered at the expense of their targets. The security and transitional justice experts also assert that a flawed public appeal and information management have sparked outrage and a trust deficit on the government’s side.

One concern Taiwo’s research raised is the persistent challenges in providing sufficient economic support to Boko Haram deserters once they leave the camps. Several defectors HumAngle interviewed raised the same concern. Although they vowed to live civilian lives again, they claimed their lives in the forest were more prosperous, and they’re now facing economic hurdles after defecting. The former insurgents, now working as assets to the military, also complained of constant failed promises. When they’re called upon for operations against the terrorists, the military would pledge mouth-watering financial gains only to offer them an amount far less than what they had promised.

“Then they’d say they’ll pay us each ₦1 million or ₦1.5 million for every crucial piece of information and operation. But after a successful mission, they’d go back on their words and pay ₦100,000 or below. Whereas we have families to cater for. Wives, children, and parents,” Suleiman recounts, a claim substantiated by other former combatants we interviewed.

Wayward ways

As many defectors struggle to settle into communities, civilians also struggle to embrace them. The reason is not far-fetched: the villagers have grown resentful of former Boko Haram members who have raided their settlements, stripping them of their homes and stable lives, only to come and live next door. The moment they leave the rehabilitation camps, they escape the military’s watchful eyes. Many times, this escape means defectors choose what they do with their lives, including displaying violent tendencies against civilians. The villagers call them “repentants”, but insist their ways are wayward.

Locals, including displaced people, say so-called repentant terrorists re-terrorise them, making them relive the terror they had inflicted on them. During separate interviews, civilian villagers accused security agents of shielding defectors when they commit offences against the people. They say this has triggered a climate of silence within the Maiduguri metropolis, where everyone is scared of speaking ill of a former Boko Haram fighter, even when they’re guilty of wrongdoing. When HumAngle visited the Bama displacement camp in 2025, for instance, we saw dozens of defectors moving around aimlessly with guns and other weapons. Camp officials claimed the armed defectors were protecting displaced persons, but when we requested to speak with them, they denied us access. Displaced persons also refrained from discussing their situation, fearing persecution.

In Shuwari, a peri-urban area just outside Maiduguri town in Borno, a few locals agreed to talk to HumAngle on the condition that their identities would be concealed. Villagers say these defectors incite violence, rob civilians, and harass women. When they complain or try to fight back, they brag about having ruled the forest for years and having the power to do whatever they want within the civilian communities. Displaced people also live side by side at the Shuwari IDP camp with men they believe are responsible for their displacement. Living with them at the camp comes with fear and mistrust, IDPs say.

When Salihu Garba briefly returned to Bama, following the Borno state resettlement programme, threats from former Boko Haram fighters forced him back to the Shuwari IDP camp, he says. While some defectors seem to be living without fighting their neighbours, others, especially those working as assets for the military, move around brandishing rifles, spurring terror, and instilling fear among locals. Simple communal disputes often degenerate into violence. Salihu tells HumAngle that, two months ago, a quarrel spiralled into stabbing a villager. A former insurgent had stepped on bricks laid by a villager to build part of his compound, and that escalated into an exchange of blows and domestic weapons. Both the civilian and the defector were arrested, but the latter returned the next day to stab the former, who was later rushed to the hospital to fight for his life.

Rural criminality also adds to the tension that comes with forcibly reintegrating terrorists into civilian communities, locals say. One repentant terrorist was recently arrested for theft after breaking into shops and stealing six bags of beans. Before being sent to the police cell and later prison, he threatened the shop owner: “I will return and kill you after serving my term.”

For Isah Kamsulum, another resident of Shuwari, the fear is deeply personal. In 2015, he witnessed a man named Ba’ana slaughter fifteen people in Bama. Years later, Ba’ana resurfaced as a repentant, working with soldiers in the community. Isah’s nephew confronted him, enraged that someone who had killed his sibling now lived comfortably among them. Ba’ana killed the nephew. He was arrested, held briefly, then released. Today, he fights alongside the military in Gamboru. Residents say they were never consulted before repentants were resettled among them. “We just saw them,” he complains. “The government brought them out of the forest and kept us here, too. We are all under their control.”

Ibrahim Adam of the Zajeri community in the state says he had an even more concerning experience. Over a year ago, about ten former insurgents got an apartment for themselves within the community. They were at first unarmed, but some of their friends, who worked as auxiliary fighters with the military and were armed, would frequently come visiting them daily. Their presence, especially in large numbers, unsettled the villagers. The former insurgents started asking young women to marry them. One divorcee selling food by the roadside was told she must marry one of them. Scared to the bone, the woman abandoned her trade and fled the area.

Villagers say they have grown alarmed living with the repentants, with Ibrahim recounting that they have witnessed about 30 of them crammed in an apartment, talking recklessly and loudly about their past and bragging about their atrocities before surrendering to the army. The community demanded their eviction, but the landlord refused because he’s afraid. While older repentants in the community maintain some decorum, the younger ones, accompanied by armed companions, remain a source of fear.

For Goni, Ali, and several terrorist deserters HumAngle interviewed, relapsing into terror is not an option. They also said they’re not among the young repentants instilling fears into the civilian community. They say they’ve chosen the path of peace and would never return to a life of violence.

GEMMA Collins spent years convincing the world she was living her best diva life – but behind the designer handbags and larger-than-life personality, there was a time when the empire she had worked so hard to build started crumbling around her.

Incredibly, the GC pulled herself back from the brink and banked more than £1.4 million last year. But friends say the feat would have been nearly impossible without the help of one very special man.

Those closest to Gemma have revealed the secret to the Romford-born star’s success is her dad, Alan, who is credited as the only person who can keep Gemma grounded.

A source tells us: “People see Gemma as this unstoppable force of nature, but behind the scenes, Alan has always been her rock.

“When things got difficult financially, he stepped in and took control.

“Gemma trusts him completely. There aren’t many people she would hand that responsibility to.”

For years, Gemma has openly admitted that Alan is effectively the gatekeeper to her fortune.

In one interview, she confessed: “My dad controls all my money. Seriously, I have to ask him if I want to upgrade my car.”

It’s a remarkable admission for a woman who has built a reported £4million fortune and can command up to £75,000 for a single sponsored Instagram post.

But those who know the family say it perfectly sums up their relationship.

Another source tells us: “Alan has always kept Gemma grounded.

“She’s the star, but he’s the sensible head behind the scenes.

“When she gets excited about a new project, he’s often the person asking the difficult questions.”

The latest figures suggest that the approach is paying off.

Accounts for her personal brand, Gemma Collins Ltd, show the company landed profits of around £1.4 million last year.

For fans who remember the financial turmoil of previous years, this is a huge turnaround.

Back in 2017, Gemma Collins Boutique Ltd was forced into liquidation owing around £88,000 to creditors.

The problems continued when she was disqualified from acting as a company director for three years in 2020 after repeatedly failing to meet VAT return deadlines, with HMRC pursuing claims worth more than £71,000.

A separate clothing business was later voluntarily dissolved, while her cosmetics venture, GemmaCollagen Ltd, survived for just a matter of months before disappearing altogether.

One insider tells us: “There was a period where it felt like every business venture came with a headache.

“Gemma never stopped working, but there were definitely lessons learned.

“That’s when Alan became more involved.”

It is perhaps fitting that Gemma’s biggest supporter is also somebody who understands business himself.

Alan built a successful career in shipping and has long been regarded as one of the most influential figures in his daughter’s life.

Fans caught a glimpse of their bond on her reality shows, where Alan frequently offered advice, not just about money but about life itself.

During one emotional conversation about her turbulent romance with James Argent, he told her: “You’ve just got to find some stability in your life when you find the right person.

“As much as we all like Arg, you’ve got to decide if he’s the right person.”

He later added: “For my daughter, I want somebody who’s top dollar.”

Those close to the family say that attitude explains exactly why Gemma places so much trust in him.

One source tells us: “Alan isn’t interested in celebrity.

“He cares about Gemma being secure and looked after. That’s always been his focus.”

Their relationship has only strengthened in recent years.

Gemma has spoken emotionally about her father’s devastating battle with Covid in 2020, when he spent weeks fighting for his life in intensive care.

She has also supported both Alan and mum Joan through a series of serious health scares, including Joan’s breast cancer diagnosis and terrifying hospitalisation last year after she stopped breathing.

The ordeal brought the family even closer together.

These days, Alan and Joan live with Gemma in her £1.3 million Essex home alongside fiancé Rami.

Speaking previously, Gemma said: “They live with me now. They’ve moved into my home, so we’re like one big Irish family.”

And remarkably, there appears to be very little tension under the roof.

Previously speaking to The Sun, Gemma explained: “Rami was absolutely fine with it.

“He loves my parents. They get on really well.

“You’ve got to remember, Rami has been in my family for nearly 15 years.”

The happy family dynamic comes as Gemma prepares for what insiders believe could be one of the biggest chapters of her career.

Later this year, she will return to screens with a new Sky reality series, Four Weddings and a Baby, which follows her wedding plans with Rami and her hopes of starting a family.

One insider tells us: “This show is incredibly important to Gemma because it’s the most personal thing she’s ever done.

“People know The GC, but this is about the woman behind the character.

“She’s genuinely in a really happy place.”

And for Gemma, that happiness feels hard-earned.

Perhaps that’s why those closest to her believe the latest financial success means far more than a healthy bank balance.

It’s proof that after all the setbacks, Gemma Collins is finally enjoying the stability she spent years chasing.

And standing beside her through every twist and turn has been the same man all along.

ZOE Ball has opened up about having an empty nest at home, after her daughter Nelly, 16, moved out to live with her dad, Fatboy Slim, full time.

The former Radio 2 DJ, 55, who recently lost out on the Strictly Come Dancing hosting job, is now living in a “quieter” house with her boyfriend.

Mum-of-two Zoe shares both Nelly, and son Woody, 25, with her ex-husband, Norman Cook, 62.

But, the presenter has revealed how her house is now “so quiet” after both of her children had moved out, as her son now lives in Bristol.

Speaking to Jo Whiley, 60, on their Dig It podcast, Zoe reflected on how empty her Brighton home was, in comparison to her co-host’s busy house.

“Mine’s so quiet, it’s like ugh! It’s less and less because Nel is based more at her dad’s now because I think she’s got to that point of, ‘Ah can I just be in one place?’” the star said.

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“All of her CSI revision notes are on the wall at her dads and it’s just [nice] not having to move from house to house, so she’s just spending more time there now.”

Zoe then revealed how Nelly was not far away, as Norman lived closed by.

“It’s great because it’s only around the corner and I can nip round at any time, which is great, and she can come here if she gets upset about anything like, ‘Mum, I need you’ but it’s less and less,” she said.

But Zoe isn’t on her own in her big house, as she moved her boyfriend Mathieu Weekes, 49, into the family home earlier this year.

The couple have been dating for a year now, with the pair completely smitten with each other.

Speaking about being a single mum and dating, Zoe previously told her podcast: “Introducing new partners, it’s a tricky one.

“You just have to go with the feeling of it. I think it’s okay to have a bit of a private life that isn’t part of the kids’ life for a little bit.

“In the past I’ve rushed that by welcoming someone in and being like ‘here’s my kids. Here’s my life. This is me.’

“And it’s all a bit much. It’s all a bit much for me. It’s all a bit much for the kids.

“Hopefully at some point there is someone where you think actually this person’s pretty cool and they’re pretty laid-back and they’re not going to come in and demand to be part of your kids’ lives.”

Meanwhile, this latest revelation comes just days after Zoe opened up to The Sun about how she REALLY feels about not getting the plum Strictly hosting job.

The star was beaten to the role by comedian Josh Widdicombe, 43, presenter Emma Willis, 50, and dance pro Johannes Radebe, 39.

The trio take over from Claudia Winkleman, 53, and Tess Daly, 57, who stepped down last year.

Zoe told The Sun: “I screen tested with Josh and he is hilarious. He is going to be so good.

“Emma is just gorgeous and I love Johannes, so they are going to ace it.

“And I don’t have to have a facelift, so I’m quite happy.”

Zoe also sent her congratulations to the trio, and thinks they will give the series a boost.

She said: “I have messaged Emma, Josh and Johannes — they are going to be brilliant.

“You know what? It needed fresh energy, and you can totally see why that’s happening.

“It’s like, move forwards, and that is great.”

Alan Titchmarsh’s comments came to light as he described a typical Saturday, which might include a shopping trip using something a BBC star has reportedly said they don’t like

Alan Titchmarsh has taken a swipe at a BBC Radio 2 star who “lives in London” over alleged comments about a vehicle he owns. Alan’s remarks came as he described a typical Saturday with his wife, Alison, following the couple’s recent move to a new home in Surrey after “living in Hampshire around farmland for 40 years”.

By 7am, the Ground Force legend is brewing up a cuppa for Alison and is “up and at ’em”, tackling a crossword to keep his mind sharp before heading outside to check his beloved garden.

Come 11am, the pair might venture out for a spot of shopping, and for that, it appears they rely on their trusty four-by-fours. However, Alan claims one BBC star is far from impressed by the vehicles.

The radio host in question apparently “slags them off”, yet Alan and Alison need them, particularly when navigating their local potholes — pointing out that the host is based in the capital.

He told The Telegraph: “Ali and I might head out and do a bit of [homeware] shopping. We’ve lived in Hampshire around farmland for 40 years, so both of us have four-by-fours. It’s all right when Jeremy Vine slags them off, but he lives in London.

“Out here, we need them! If you saw our potholes! When the two of us are driving, we’re almost always locked in conversation but I play music when I’m alone – either Classic FM, Radio 3 or Radio 4.

“The car picks up my iPhone music and I often listen to the score for the latest series of All Creatures Great and Small by Alexandra Harwood. It’s lovely.”

Keen cyclist Jeremy previously documented drivers breaking traffic laws and shared these on social media in an effort to spotlight the dangers faced by cyclists.

However, he abandoned this practice after suffering online “trolling”. He revealed on X: “I’m stopping my cycling videos. The trolling just got too bad. They have had well over 100 million views, but in the end the anger they generate has genuinely upset me.”

Indeed, it reportedly got so bad that he received death threats for posting videos of drivers, with some cruelly dubbing him “England’s biggest ***hole”.

He said: “Some of the biggest videos were actually about the smallest incidents, like someone turning left in front of me.

“People are happy to discuss it and I actually think that we’d all be safer if we all understood each other. People are going to drive 4x4s in Kensington and whatnot, but they need to have a bit of care for me on a bicycle.

“You might be in total control when you pass close by, but the person on a bicycle doesn’t know that. I just hope I was part of a dialogue about it.”

TESS Daly and Vernon Kay have left the showbiz world in shock this evening after announcing their shock split after 25 years together.

The pair released a joint statement on Instagram tonight that read: “After much consideration, and with a deep sense of care and respect for one another, we have made the decision to separate amicably.

“This has not been an easy choice, but it comes from a place of mutual understanding and a shared desire for what is best for both of us.”

“We remain great friends and most importantly, fully committed to our roles as loving and supportive parents, which will always be our priority.
There are no other parties involved in this decision.

“We kindly ask for privacy during this time as we navigate this transition together. We will not be making any further public comments.”

The Sun have uncovered telling signs that the much-loved couple had split, from living separate lives to a very frank marriage confession.

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Living separate lives

It’s clear from social media that both Vernon, 52, and Tess, 57, have been living their own separate lives for the last few months.

They’ve been individually spending time with their two daughters Phoebe, 21, and Amber, 16, rather than their usual family unit of four.

Their eldest daughter Phoebe relocated to New York in January but has been back visiting in the UK this week.

Vernon took to his Instagram on Thursday to share a snap of himself with Phoebe on a rooftop terrace as they enjoyed drinks together.

He dressed smart casual in a ribbed top and white trousers, while Phoebe looked glam in a gold top and black trousers.

He captioned it: “Ahhhhh Summer nights in London on the @thechanceryrosewood rooftop with @phoebeekay The best view on a clear blue evening sky….“

Meanwhile, Phoebe spent separate time with her mum as the ladies posed for a sweet snap on a bridge in London. They twinned in denim jeans and sunglasses as they beamed from ear to ear for the photo.

Tess captioned it: “Got my Phoebe back for a few days and making the most of every moment.”

No social media posts

The last time either of them posed for a picture together on social media was ten weeks ago.

The pair hosted an episode of The One Show back in February as they took a picture with guests, actresses Maggie Gyllenhaal and Jessie Buckley and Bridgerton stars, Luke Thompson and Yerin Ha.

She took to Instagram to share the group picture, with the guests standing in between a smiling Tess and Vernon.

The former Strictly Come Dancing presenter also posted a solo snap of herself sitting on the iconic green sofa.

Vernon also hasn’t posted Tess on his own page in months.

The last time she appears to be on his feed is during a trip to New York in February where they were visiting Phoebe.

No mention in latest interview

Tess recently did an interview with Hello! magazine and spoke about a variety of aspects about her life.

She mentioned her swimwear brand NAIA Beach and being awarded an MBE by King Charles in November, but there was no mention of Vernon.

Speaking about her brand, she expressed: “I absolutely love running our NAIA business with my best friend Gayle and our wonderful, ever-growing team.

“For a business that began life as two friends with a vision, it has evolved to something bigger than we could have imagined.

“I’m also hoping for the chance to have a bit of a girls’ trip away with my friends – that’s been a long time coming.”

Frank confession

Vernon made a frank confession in October last year when he revealed Tess had “spent a fortune” fixing his botched DIY attempts.

During his BBC Radio 2 programme, his colleague asked him if he could come over to his and fix a few shelves.

Clearly not making much of his own DIY skills, he responded: “Oh, you do not want me around your place; trust me.

“Strictly Come Dancing’s Tess Daly spent a fortune repairing what I’ve damaged.”

It was then suggested that their mishaps could rival Joe Swash and Stacey Solomon‘s BBC One reality show as Vernon joked: “I wreck it, you fix it.”

Preah Vihear/Siem Reap provinces – When asked how she spends her day, 11-year-old Sokna rattled off a list of chores.

She first fetches water, then washes dishes and sweeps the leaves and dust from around the blue tarpaulin tent her family now calls home, in the grounds of a Buddhist pagoda in northwestern Cambodia.

Sokna and her sister have stopped attending school, their mother Puth Reen said, since moving to this camp for people displaced by the recent rounds of fighting between Thailand and Cambodia.

The two sisters are among more than 34,440 people who remain in displacement camps in Cambodia – 11,355 of whom are children – as of this month, according to the country’s Ministry of Interior.

“I tried to tell them to go to school, but they don’t go,” Puth Reen told Al Jazeera, explaining how precarious life had become since returning to live in Cambodia after fleeing neighbouring Thailand, where she had worked for many years, as the fighting started.

Like Puth Reen and her family, the future looks murky for the tens of thousands of Cambodians – including many schoolchildren – who are still in displacement camps, and their lives remain disrupted months after the last outbreak of fighting between Thailand and Cambodia.

Forced to flee their homes in areas where local troops are now stationed and on high alert, or in areas occupied by opposing Thai forces, Cambodia’s internally displaced say they are surviving off aid donations, while those more fortunate are transitioning from emergency tents into wooden stilted houses provided by the Cambodian government.

But with tension still evident between the leadership in Bangkok and Phnom Penh, the tenuous ceasefire along the Thai-Cambodia border means life cannot yet return to normality.

Some areas on the Cambodian border, such as the villages of Chouk Chey and Prey Chan in Banteay Meanchey province, have become rallying points for nationalists who post on social media about the Thai occupation of Cambodian territory. Their anger is directed at the large shipping containers and barbed wire that Thai forces have used to block access to villages once inhabited by Cambodians and occupied during fighting.

The Thai military-installed containers now form a sort of new frontier between the two countries.

The Cambodian military has also prevented people, such as local farmer Sun Reth, 67, from returning to their homes in front-line areas, which are still highly militarised zones, with troops ready at any moment for a new round of fighting.

“Now the Cambodian military base is just next to [my house],” Sun Reth said, adding that she was not allowed by authorities to sleep in her modest home or pick cashew nuts from her farm to sell for a little income.

Cambodian children more focused on ‘rumours’ of war

The long-held border dispute between Thailand and Cambodia erupted into two rounds of conflict last year, over five days in July and almost three weeks in December.

Dozens were reported killed on both sides, and hundreds of thousands of civilians fled their homes as both countries’ armed forces fired artillery, rockets, and, in the case of Thailand, conducted air strikes deep into Cambodian territory. Thailand has a modern air force, a military capability not possessed by its smaller neighbour.

Cambodian and Thai officials reached a ceasefire on December 27, but the situation remains tense five months on.

For families who fled the fighting, school continues for most children in the displacement camps, but parents say education is fragmented while their lives are still so unsettled.

Mothers at the Wat Bak Kam camp for the displaced in Preah Vihear province told Al Jazeera that primary school students can join classes at a local school, but high school students need to travel daily to the provincial capital, about 15km (9 miles) away.

Now the rising cost of petrol, due to the US-Israel war on Iran, has made it even harder for teenaged students, who have access to motorcycles, to make the journey to school.

Kinmai Phum, technical lead for WorldVision’s education programme, which is providing support to the camps, said school dropout rates and children skipping classes have increased substantially among students from the displaced border regions.

Kinmai Phum said the situation is a perfect storm of problems: Displaced families have been forced to move around for shelters, schools and temporary learning spaces lack facilities, and some students have psychological trauma due to the conflict.

“Local authorities [are] concerned that many children may not return to school at all if displacement and economic hardship persist,” Kinmai Phum said.

Yuon Phally, a mother of two, said she had noticed the impact of the war on her daughter and son, who are in their first and third years in primary school.

When they return from school, Yuon Phally said, they tell her about rumours they had heard about Cambodia and Thailand resuming fighting.

“Their feeling is not fully focused on school; they focus more on these rumours,” she said.

Her children’s world was more impacted by the conflict because their father is a soldier stationed in the Mom Bei area of the border.

During the fighting in December, Yuon Phally said she could not convince her children to go to school because they all waited to see if their father would call on a mobile phone from the front line.

“I couldn’t hold back my tears, and that added more pressure onto my kids,” she said.

“They would ask about their dad and how he is doing now. Then they told me to eat rice. They understood my feelings.”

She said her children’s focus on their studies only improved after their father returned from fighting to the camp where they are staying, to rest and recover from sickness and injuries sustained in battle.

‘Who doesn’t want to have peace?’

Soeum Sokhem, a deputy village chief, told Al Jazeera how his home is located in the militarised “danger zone” along the border, but he feels compelled to return every few days to check on his house, tend crops, sleep an occasional night, and check in with other neighbours doing the same.

“I can’t just stay here”, he said of camp life.

“I have to go back.”

When asked how he felt about the border war, Soeum Sokhem said he had experienced so much war in Cambodia that he did not know how to describe his “inner feeling like I really want to”.

He then listed off all the conflicts he had lived through in Cambodia since the 1960s: The spill over into Cambodia from the US war in neighbouring Vietnam; the US bombing campaign in Cambodia; the genocidal Khmer Rouge regime, and the civil war that followed after Vietnam’s intervention to topple the regime’s leader Pol Pot in 1979, and which lasted until the mid-1990s.

Then in the 2000s, sporadic border fights with Thailand began, he said.

Cambodia’s contemporary history has been anything but peaceful, a fact which might explain why the current Cambodian government so often speaks of peace. Government buildings and billboards proclaim the government’s unofficial motto: “Thanks for peace.”

“But who doesn’t want to have peace?” Soeum Sokhem said, after charting his life and the many conflicts he had lived through.

Now the 67-year-old said he once again hears gunfire occasionally when he returns to check on his home on the front line.

“Before, when I walked there, it was normal,” he said.

“But nowadays, I walk with fear when going back there.”

Whitney Leavitt is leaving “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.”

The reality star announced the news during her final performance of “Chicago” on Sunday. Leavitt has played tap-dancing murderess Roxie Hart in the Broadway revival since February. TMZ published a video of the moment, in which a Broadway castmate shows Leavitt a newspaper mid-scene. Leavitt, in character as Hart, points to the headline and reads aloud: “Whitney Leavitt announces she’s leaving ‘The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.’” The audience is heard hollering and cheering.

Leavitt followed the big reveal with an Instagram video Tuesday morning and assured fans that, although the forthcoming season will be her last, she would still appear in Season 5 of the Hulu series.

“It’s honestly so crazy to me looking back on this journey, because I had been trying to get into theater, film, way before ‘Secret Lives’ even came into my life,” she said. “The reality show just fell into my lap organically and I said yes to it. It’s definitely not the path that I had envisioned in my mind to get to where I am today, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I have experienced so much with this group of women, and through that process, I have also learned so much about myself.”

Leavitt continued, saying that the “Mormon Wives” had been through so much together, including more extreme highs and lows than audiences have seen. “No matter what happens with our relationships, that is something that will always be a part of our life, that will always be a part of my life, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“The times I’ve walked away from ‘MomTok,’ it came from a place of anger and frustration,” she continued. “But this time, it’s significantly different, because I’m leaving with gratitude. I feel content. I feel like this is a chapter that’s closing in my life, and honestly, I believe that’s how it was always meant to be. I’m so grateful for ‘The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.’ It’s gotten me where I am today. It’s given me the opportunities that you all have seen. But I’m ready. I’m ready for the next chapter. And I cannot wait to share with you guys what’s next.”

Much like her “Chicago” character, Leavitt’s place in the spotlight has come with less-than-favorable tabloid fodder. She told “Oprah Daily” that, although she doesn’t fully agree that she’s a series “villain,” she’s embraced her on-screen persona. She’s been candid about being a “very ambitious woman” and using “Secret Lives” as a launchpad for a career in Hollywood — and this isn’t the first time she’s departed the show.

“I had walked away from the show,” she told Gayle King about her brief hiatus after Season 2. “I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. I left the show, and then they were almost midway through the season, and I got a call from the producers, and they said, ‘If you come back, we know that you really want this opportunity to go on “Dancing With the Stars,” but the only way that you would get this opportunity is to come back and film.’”

Last year, Leavitt partnered up with pro dancer Mark Ballas and competed on Season 34 of “Dancing With the Stars.” She was eliminated in the semifinals, finishing in sixth place, but her “Cell Block Tango” performance impressed casting directors of the long-running Broadway production. One thing led to another, and the reality star was headed to Broadway.

Although Salt Lake City may not be known for the excitement synonymous with the Big Apple, Leavitt has plenty of drama to keep her busy back in production on “Mormon Wives.”

The show hit pause in March amid a series of domestic violence investigations involving stars Taylor Frankie Paul and her on-again, off-again partner Dakota Mortensen. The Salt Lake County district attorney’s office announced in mid-April that it would not be filing charges against Paul, and shortly after, the Hulu series said it would resume filming Season 5.

In the comments section of Leavitt’s Instagram video announcing her departure, Paul wrote, “You will be missed. Chase those dreams my girl. I’m excited to see your next chapter.”

SOPHIA Grace and Rosie were the viral child stars who went from their Essex bedrooms to rubbing shoulders with Hollywood’s finest – landing roles alongside the likes of Ariana Grande, appearing on the Ellen Show and even bagging their own movie.

But fast forward 15 years and the cousins have traded the bright lights of Tinseltown for very different lives back home in the UK, as The Sun lifts the lid on how they coped after they were no longer the cheeky youngsters the world fell in love with, and avoided the dreaded child star ‘curse’.

Sophia Grace, now 23, and Rosie, now 19, were cousins who rose to prominence by uploading videos from their Essex bedrooms to YouTube.

In 2011, it was a video of the duo, who were then eight and five, respectively, performing a cover of “Super Bass” by Nicki Minaj that caught the attention of US megastar Ellen DeGeneres.

She invited them to fly across to the US to appear as guests on her eponymous show, which led to a regular slot for the girls and exposure to fans across the pond, who fell in love with the tutu-wearing duo and their British charm.

The girls had their own segment on the show where they would chat with A-listers, from Justin Bieber to Hugh Grant and Taylor Swift. This then led to them bagging appearances on Nickelodeon show Sam and Cat, which featured Ariana Grande in the titular role, and their own movie by the channel, Sophia Grace & Rosie’s Royal Adventure.

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However, as Sophia Grace and Rosie got older, the high-flying opportunities also came to a halt, with the young women no longer as in demand as their younger selves once were.

A close friend of the cousins tells The Sun: “People don’t realise how intense it was back then for the girls. One minute Sophia and Rosie were just kids playing dress-up, and the next they were everywhere – on TV, interviews and cashing in on big brand deals. 

“It felt like the world couldn’t get enough of them. But that kind of spotlight doesn’t really grow with you, it stays frozen in time.

“I remember when things started to shift. It wasn’t dramatic, the calls just slowed down. Not because they weren’t talented, but because they weren’t those tiny girls in tutus that the world couldn’t help but fall in love with anymore. The industry loves a moment, it’s not always about the person behind it.”

Now, Sophia Grace is a doting mum-of-two and often shares mumfluencer content with her little ones to her Instagram page, which still boasts an impressive 1.5 million followers.

Whilst Rosie, who has just shy of one million followers, is an aspiring pop star and often shares music videos and new songs to her profile.

Despite the pair still successful online, that doesn’t mean it’s been an easy transition, as they navigated being shunned from Hollywood for simply growing up.

The friend said: “They had to go through that strange identity thing a lot of child stars face. Like, who am I if I’m not that version of me everyone fell in love with? It’s not just about losing jobs, it’s about outgrowing a character the whole world still expects you to be.

“There was definitely a period where it hurt. They’d worked so hard, and suddenly it felt like they had to prove themselves all over again, but as completely different people. That’s exhausting, especially when your past success kind of boxes you in.”

This had the girls thinking about what is next as they reinvented their careers, rather than remaining stuck.

“What people don’t see is how much strength it took for them to step back and rethink everything. They didn’t just cling to what used to work. They had to start asking bigger questions like what do we actually enjoy now? What kind of life do we want outside of all that?

“They’ve had to evolve and figure out who they are without the glitz glam and cameras. And I think that was harder than actually being famous in the first place.

“There’s something bittersweet about it. Now they’re building something quieter, more personal and it actually belongs fully to them this time.”

Child stars who have been catapulted to fame so young are famously at risk of falling victim to the “curse”, which has seen numerous celebrities fall off the wagon after earning their careers at such a young age.

From Drew Barrymore to Macaulay Culkin and Britney Spears, several stars have spoken out about their struggles with mental health, addiction, financial issues and more after being put under such pressure so young.

But Sophia Grace and Rosie have managed to successfully manage becoming household names so young whilst avoiding being plagued with the curse.

“People always expect a sad ending with child stars, like it’s inevitable that something will go wrong once the spotlight fades. But that was never going to be their story,” said the friend.

Explaining how they managed to remain grounded, they said that the pair have always been “normal and down to earth”, even when things were “unpredictable” in their careers.

“Sophia was always the one with that natural warmth. Even as a kid, she had this way of making people feel comfortable around her, what you saw was exactly what you got,” said our insider.

“Becoming a mum didn’t change her either, it’s been the making of her. She talks a lot about wanting to give her child stability, something consistent and safe, because she knows firsthand how unusual her own childhood was.

“What people see online is only a small window into their world – behind the scenes she’s very careful, and very protective of her family life. She’s also been smart financially, which people don’t expect. She made sure early on that she wasn’t just spending what she earned, she was thinking about the future. She’s got investments, savings and she’s financially fine for a very long time.”

And for Rosie, it seems that music was always the long-term plan.

“She stepped back, took time to grow up outside of the spotlight, build up her confidence and then came back to it on her own terms. That’s something I really admire about her. She’s spent years working on her voice, writing, figuring out what she actually wants to say as an artist instead of trying to recreate something from the past. 

“There’s a lot of discipline there, and a kind of quiet confidence that people may have otherwise overlooked. She’s not chasing attention at all because she’s building something meaningful and long term.

“The thing that really stands out about both of them is that they never lost themselves in it. They had good people around them from early on, family who kept things steady and didn’t let the fame become everything. And they listened to that. They made choices that weren’t the flashiest, but they were the right ones for the lives they all wanted.”

The duo were also meticulously careful about money, our source says, despite having an influx of earnings so young.

“At the end of the day, they didn’t just grow out of being child stars, they grew into adults with lives that are  real and wonderful. And that’s something you can’t fake for likes.”

PATRICK Muldoon’s tragic cause of death has been confirmed after the soap star’s sudden collapse at the age of 57.

The Days Of Our Lives and Melrose Place actor died from a heart attack, according to official records, with several underlying health conditions also revealed.

New details show Muldoon suffered a myocardial infarction – more commonly known as a heart attack – on April 19, as confirmed by his death certificate.

The document, released by the County of Los Angeles’ Department of Public Health, also listed contributing factors to his death.

These included a hereditary coagulopathy disorder, which affects blood clotting, and a pulmonary embolism – a dangerous blood clot that travels to the lungs and blocks blood flow.

The actor was cremated on Tuesday, with his occupation listed as both actor and producer.

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His sister, Shana Muldoon-Zappa, had earlier shared that he died of a heart attack, posting a touching tribute alongside a final video sent to family just hours before his death.

In the clip, Muldoon is seen joking while showing a painting at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

“As always, he jokes… and yet profoundly brings all things into one moment,” she wrote.

“The joke-ster, the artist, the football player, and the intensely spiritually connected, Jesuit educated, incredible being that is Patrick Muldoon. My best friend. The best brother/son/uncle/anyone could ever possibly ask for.”

“I will have so much more to share as I know he loves this earthly realm and all he created within it,” she continued, “including all of the love and light his spirit is now receiving through all of you…. Surrounding you in light.”

Tributes also poured in from friends and co-stars, including actress Barbara Eden.

“Patrick was a sweet man who was very personable,” she said.

“I enjoyed the time we spent between takes and just enjoying each other’s company in general during the production of the film. He made the experience even more fun.”

“While the passing of a loved one is never easy,” she added, “it is especially difficult when it’s unexpected and sudden as I understand Patrick’s was. My thoughts and condolences are with his family and friends.”

Born in San Pedro, California, Patrick Muldoon shot to fame in the 1990s after launching his career while studying in the University of Southern California, where he also played football.

He first appeared on Who’s the Boss? before landing a role on Saved By the Bell after graduating in 1991.

His big break came as Austin Reed on Days of Our Lives, a role he originated between 1992 and 1995 before returning years later.

Muldoon later played villain Richard Hart on Melrose Place and starred in a string of TV movies.

On the big screen, he was known for playing Zander Barcalow in the 1997 sci-fi hit Starship Troopers.

His final film, Dirty Hands, is due for release later this year.

Away from the spotlight, Muldoon worked behind the scenes as an executive producer on a number of films and was also passionate about music, performing as lead singer of The Sleeping Masses.

Known as “Bobo” to loved ones, Muldoon is survived by his partner Miriam Rothbart, his parents, his sister and extended family.

Production on Season 5 of “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” will resume after filming was halted weeks ago amid a domestic violence investigation involving star Taylor Frankie Paul, The Times has learned.

Filming on the Hulu reality series paused in mid-March after the Draper City Police Department in Utah launched an investigation that involved Paul and her ex-boyfriend Dakota Mortensen and stemmed from an alleged incident in February. It was later revealed that Paul was under investigation for an alleged third domestic violence incident involving her and Mortensen in 2024, which was being led by police in West Jordan, Utah. The Salt Lake County district attorney’s office announced last week it would not be filing charges against Paul.

It has not been disclosed when cameras will pick back up or whether Paul or Mortensen will return to the series. In addition to Paul, the main cast includes Whitney Leavitt, Mayci Neeley. Jessie Draper, Jen Affleck, Mayci Neeley and Miranda McWhorter.

Paul was previously arrested in 2023 for another incident with Mortensen, which was partially documented on Season 1 of “Mormon Wives.”

“Here come the ugly parts of what healing actually looks like,” Paul wrote in a lengthy post Sunday on Instagram. “If you know me you know I’ll admit my parts, flaws, and faults. I’m well aware thats apart of it. We’ll get there. This public atrocity that I not only lived through once but twice now, on even a bigger scale was ultimately the cost to my freedom. I wouldn’t wish this upon my worst enemy or even the ones who publicized it. I cried on my knees in pain while also saying THANK YOU 🙏🏼”

When the investigation tied to the alleged February incident was made public, a video from the events involving the 2023 incident — showing Paul throwing barstools at Mortensen while her young daughter was present — was leaked to TMZ. It quickly led to ABC pulling Paul’s season-headlining “The Bachelorette” just three days before its March 22 premiere.

Patrick Muldoon, known for his roles on “Days of Our Lives,” “Melrose Place” and “Starship Troopers,” has died. He was 57.

The actor and producer reportedly died Sunday, his manager confirmed to Variety. According to Deadline, Muldoon died suddenly after a heart attack. The Times has reached out to Muldoon’s reps for comment.

Muldoon originated the role of Austin Reed on the daytime soap opera “Days of Our Lives.” He first portrayed the aspiring boxer and brother of Lisa Rinna‘s Billie Reed from 1992 to 1995, and returned to reprise the role from 2011 to 2012 (the character had since become a forensic accountant).

“Austin is a wonderful role,” Muldoon told The Times in 1995. The actor explained he took his “sweet time” mulling over whether to leave the show because “it was one hell of a decision to make.”

“I’m leaving for no other reason than why other people leave soaps,” Muldoon said at the time. “To take a shot at doing other things like nighttime, movies and other things. … I feel confident right now so I figured I better take the shot sooner than later. If I don’t, I’ll always wonder ‘what if.’ ”

He played the recurring villain Richard Hart on the primetime soap “Melrose Place” for three seasons beginning in 1995. Muldoon’s big-screen roles include Zander Barcalow, a pilot and rival of Casper Van Dien’s Johnny Rico, in Paul Verhoeven’s 1997 movie “Starship Troopers.”

Born September 27, 1968, in San Pedro, Muldoon’s early passions included football. He started playing at the age of 6 and would go on to play at Loyola High School and then at USC.

“I did fairly well for being a smaller tight end,” Muldoon told The Times in 2012, adding that getting run over during practice by USC teammate Junior Seau — the late linebacker who had a 20-year NFL career — was among the factors that led him to pursue acting instead. Muldoon began his acting career during the sport’s offseason, and his earliest roles were on shows such as “Who’s the Boss?” and “Saved by the Bell.”

In addition to acting, Muldoon was a producer with credits on films such as “Riff Raff” (2024), “Marlowe” (2022), “The Card Counter” (2021) and “The Comeback Trail” (2020). Most recently, he shared on Instagram his excitement of being among the executive producers for the upcoming film “Kockroach.”