North-Central

Khadeejat Mohammed was only two years old when Mokwa’s gully erosion claimed her life in the Eti-Sheshi community of Niger State, North Central Nigeria. Bright, playful, and already piecing sentences together, she had just been registered for creche. “She was very smart,” Isa Sheshi, her grandfather, told HumAngle. “Even at two, she played around and was able to put sentences together. I loved her so much.”

On the day she passed away, Khadeejat had asked her grandfather for money to buy tofu, locally called awara. The tofu seller was just across the same bridge that the family had carved from felled trees. The erosion had long cut through their community, forcing residents to improvise crossings. 

“When the erosion began, we used wood to build a makeshift bridge,” Sheshi said. “But with time it got bigger, so we went to the bush to cut down 15 longer trees to create another bridge.” 

That makeshift bridge became Khadeejat’s final path. On her way back, holding the tofu in a transparent plastic bag with her elder brother, who was three years older, she slipped into the gully. 

“Her head went directly into a hollow hole filled with water in the gully,” Sheshi recounted, holding onto her picture. “She gulped that water before we could rush to the scene. When we brought her out and rushed her to the hospital, we were told she had a fractured skull.” 

She was rushed to the Mokwa General Hospital and later referred to the Federal Medical Centre, Bida. Unfortunately, Khadeejat died before the family could leave the motor park to travel to Bida.

“It’s been four years since the incident, but whenever I pass through that hole caused by gully erosion, my granddaughter’s thoughts always come to mind,” the man said.

Khadeejat’s death in 2022 was not just a family tragedy; it was a warning of what unchecked erosion has continued to do in Mokwa. 

Yet, years later, the gully remains, widening with each rainy season. Although figures of lives lost in these gullies are not publicly available, residents confirmed to HumAngle that a significant number of people have lost their loved ones in them, with some sustaining life-threatening injuries.

Despite the clear threats posed by the widening and deepening gullies, HumAngle’s investigation reveals that state and local authorities have failed to take effective action. The problem worsens with each rainy season, raising concerns among local communities. In 2024, the Niger State government secured World Bank ecological funds, specifically earmarked for erosion control projects. However, these resources have not translated into tangible solutions. 

The Federal Ministry of Information and National Orientation, led by Mohammed Idris from the Mokwa Senatorial District, announced in December 2024 that the Niger State government had secured a $10 million intervention from the World Bank. This funding is aimed at addressing gully erosion in Mokwa, an area increasingly susceptible to environmental disasters.

During his visit to the affected communities in Mokwa, Umar Bago, the state governor, confirmed that the gully erosion had posed serious threats to the communities and that “competent contractors with track records have been identified to handle the project, which will commence soon.”

The state secured World Bank funding after years of neglect to address the root causes of erosion, particularly in communities such as Eti-Sheshi, Kpege, and Anguwan Hausa.

In May 2025, just five months after receiving funding from the World Bank, Mokwa was hit by a devastating flood that resulted in the loss of hundreds of lives. This tragedy raised serious questions about why the government had not started the project, especially since they had already identified “competent contractors” for the job.

Once competent contractors have been identified, the process of publishing the contract bid is governed by law. At the state level, this is regulated by procurement laws specific to each state, which are based on the federal Public Procurement Act of 2007. Section 18 (1b and d) of the Niger State Public Procurement Law of 2020 states that, subject to exemptions allowed by this law, all public procurement shall be conducted by open competitive bidding in a manner that is transparent, timely, and equitable, to ensure accountability and conformity with the law. Based on the above, a national invitation to bid shall be advertised on “the notice board of the procuring entity, any official website of the procuring entity, at least two national newspapers, and in the procurement journal,” according to section 27(2b) of the same law. 

HumAngle did not find any instance of the state government publishing any contract bid for the $10 million World Bank ecological funds project in Mokwa regarding the gully erosion project. However, a contract bid was published in May 2025 by the state’s Ministry of Environment and Climate Change under the Agro Climatic Resilience in Semi-Arid Landscapes (ACReSAL) project, with the contract title: Construction of Storm Water Drainage Structures for Mokwa and Babban Rami Gully Erosion sites in Niger State.

They invited bidders for two contracts: construction of water-stormwater drainage structures for both Mokwa and Babban Rami, with bid security of ₦150 million and ₦200 million, respectively, for a 28-month construction period.

Further investigations by HumAngle revealed that the ACReSAL project (Agro-Climatic Resilience in Semi-Arid Landscapes) is a separate initiative from the World Bank Ecological Funds, which are commonly referred to as the Ecological and Natural Disasters Management Fund in Nigeria. Although both are World Bank projects, they serve different purposes.

While ACReSAL is a targeted World Bank loan facility for northern ecological resilience, the other is a national funding mechanism aimed at addressing nationwide disasters.

HumAngle confirmed, through field visits in February, that both the World Bank and the ACReSAL projects have not been executed. The bridge and culvert along the Mokwa-Jebba axis, damaged by last year’s deadly flood, are currently undergoing reconstruction.

When HumAngle visited the Eti‑Sheshi and Anguwan Hausawa areas in February, two of the three most devastating gully-erosion sites in Mokwa had deepened and widened, some plunging about 15 feet. Houses and even a mosque sat precariously on the edge, half‑collapsed into the earth.

Abbas Idris, the president of the Risk Managers Society of Nigeria (RIMSON), revealed that communities affected by gullies face the loss of arable land, damage to infrastructure, degradation of water quality, biodiversity loss, food insecurity, and displacement. More dangerously, erosion increases the risk of flooding, threatening lives and livelihoods.

“At the end of the day, this could give rise to conflict as a result of scarcity of land and resources, as people will be fighting over the land not affected by gully erosion,” he warned.

In March, after reviewing World Bank records for details on the Mokwa project, HumAngle submitted a request through the Bank’s information platform seeking clarification on the project and its operations.  

The World Bank responded by asking us to provide “a direct link to, or full citation of, the specific document or public reporting you referenced in your request.”  We explained that the inability to locate the specific document on its website—even after conducting a Boolean search—necessitated our request. We nonetheless provided links to public reports that referenced the funding.  

On May 4, a month after its initial response, the World Bank sent what seemed to be a generic status update, stating that the request was still being processed.

“In most cases, we can respond within twenty (20) working days from receipt of a request for information. However, we may need additional time in special circumstances, for example, if the request is complex or voluminous or if it requires review…,” they wrote.

Erosion tears school walls apart

Gully erosion in Mokwa is severely impacting the community by destroying homes and livelihoods and depriving children of the opportunity to attend school. Aisha Muhammad-Kolo, the founder of Gbastif Global Academy, the only affordable private school in the area, witnessed firsthand how erosion stripped the school bare.

“There is nobody in this house, and school is closed due to the impact of the gully erosion that has been affecting our community,” she told HumAngle. Each rainy season brought chaos. When the gullies filled with water, they burst into her compound, flooding classrooms and frightening parents. 

“People were afraid that their children were at risk, so they started removing their children from the school, which affected us greatly but also deprived the students of schooling,” she said. “This is the only private school in our community, and most parents prefer to enrol their children here because it is not only affordable but we ensure quality education as compared to our government schools.”

The collapse of Gbastif Global Academy is emblematic of how erosion has altered schooling in many Mokwa communities. Teachers struggled to keep children safe during storms, sometimes moving them into private rooms until the rains subsided. 

“Whenever it rained, and we were in session, I would have to take all the children inside my room to ensure they were safe. By the time the rain receded, it had washed off a significant part of our structures,” Aisha recounted.  

Although the school was later relocated to a safer site, the arrangement is temporary, and parents are concerned about the distance. Aisha told HumAngle that the landowner could reclaim the property at any time, leaving the school stranded. 

“I believe the impact of the gully erosion is enormous, especially on education. Also, we have been robbed of our source of livelihood and have not been able to recover,” she said. 

Her fears extend beyond the school to her own family. “I also have children, and the rainy season will soon be here. You can’t be everywhere at every time to monitor your kids. They are very young and do not understand the dangers in areas affected by gully erosion. I am afraid to lose any of my children and my house because of gully erosion,” she added.

While there are no publicly available data specific to Mokwa or Niger State, a 2024 UNICEF report reveals the scale of climate‑induced disruptions to education across Nigeria. The report found that 2.2 million Nigerian students experienced interruptions to their schooling due to disasters such as flooding and erosion, underscoring how environmental crises directly undermine learning. 

These disruptions compound existing vulnerabilities, leaving communities like Mokwa even more exposed when erosion destroys classrooms and forces children out of school.  This data situates Mokwa’s erosion crisis within a broader pattern of climate‑driven educational instability, showing that the loss of Gbastif Global Academy is not an isolated tragedy but part of a systemic emergency threatening children’s futures.  

A hospital in ruin

Mokwa General Hospital, intended to serve as an important resource for the community, is collapsing due to gully erosion and inadequate maintenance. The hospital’s buildings show clear signs of decay, including peeling paint, broken windows, and walls damaged by erosion. Some parts of the structures have already collapsed, creating unsafe areas within the compound.

Drainage channels around the hospital have fallen into deep gullies and are now clogged with waste and debris. Instead of carrying water safely away, they have become dumping grounds, worsening waterlogging and exposing patients and staff to health risks.  

The erosion has transformed the hospital environment into a hazardous zone. HumAngle observed that foundations are exposed, certain sections of the compound are unsafe to cross, and the surrounding land has eroded away. What should be a place of healing now mirrors the environmental collapse outside its walls, threatening public health and undermining confidence in essential services.

The situation at Mokwa General Hospital shows how unchecked erosion and poor ecological management are crippling critical infrastructure. 

When infrastructure such as roads, schools, and hospitals is destroyed, the consequences become catastrophic, said Abbas Idris, a risk and disaster expert, who also noted that the collapse of a hospital due to erosion could leave communities without access to healthcare, leading to preventable deaths. He stressed the importance of proactive disaster management through risk assessment and hazard categorisation.

“If there are no risk assessments, the coping capacity of the community will be very low when disaster hits them,” he warned. “Without urgent intervention, the hospital risks becoming unusable, leaving thousands of residents without access to healthcare.”  

Mokwa’s deadly deluge

In May 2025, Mokwa experienced a catastrophic flood that devastated the area, displacing over 3,000 people and resulting in more than 160 fatalities. This tragic event became the deadliest flood incident in the country that year. Entire families were wiped out as homes, schools, and farmlands vanished under torrents of muddy water. Hajara Malam Abba is one of those affected by this disastrous flooding.

For Hajara’s family, the devastation was deeply personal. “The things we lost from the flood incident in 2025 can never be recovered because we lost both lives and property,” she said. 

In their family, her elder sister bore the heaviest burden, losing 17 members of her household – 16 grandchildren and her child – in a single night of flooding. Alongside the lives lost, the family’s livelihood was swept away: six refrigerators, five grinding machines, rams, clothes, and appliances all destroyed.  

The aftermath forced them into precarious living conditions. Hajara’s sister rented another place to manage, while other family members who could not afford rent built makeshift tents on the same land where their homes once stood. 

“It’s been almost a year now, but they still sleep there in vulnerable conditions, hoping that the government will eventually intervene,” Hajara said.  “We can’t sleep in peace again because of the fear of the unknown, since the rainy season is almost here again.”

Alhaji Umar Sani, one of the flood victims, vividly remembers the morning the floodwaters came. 

“It was around 6 a.m., after we had just finished praying the Subhi [dawn] prayer, then we heard people shouting,” he recounted. “My son told us he saw people drowning in the massive flood waters sweeping through homes.”

“Before we could act, the water had reached my house. My wife, my children, and I couldn’t take anything. I was only wearing a jalabiya and trousers, while my wife wore a hijab and trousers – everything else was washed away. The water covered my house. I am grateful it didn’t claim any of our lives,” he said.

In the wake of the disaster, President Bola Tinubu approved the release of ₦16.7 billion for the immediate reconstruction of the Mokwa Bridge, which was destroyed by flooding. The Minister of Information and National Orientation, Mohammed Idris, stated this after a meeting with the Minister of Works, Senator Dave Umahi. He said the project would involve constructing a bridge with 10 spans.

As families cling to faith and resilience, scepticism lingers over government efforts as the drainage system under construction is seen as inadequate. “When the floodwater came, it was enormous. How then can this drainage contain the next flood? It ought to be bigger than this,” Hajara said.

Alhaji Umar, another victim of the gully erosion, echoed the same concern, noting that the project underway is “a culvert, not a bridge” and does not match the scale of the destruction. With over 250 people killed in Mokwa alone, residents fear the rainy season could bring another catastrophe. Idris, the risk and disaster expert, criticised the government’s reconstruction of the bridge in Mokwa, which was downgraded to a box culvert without a proper scientific assessment.

“Even in the reconstruction of the said bridge, the government failed to use experts to analyse the risk factors. The facility engineers were supposed to consider the disaster and suggest a suitable bridge model that can manage the floodwater. Instead, it was just constructed haphazardly,” he lamented.

Communities under siege

Each rainy season, the community around Mokwa General Hospital experiences severe erosion, causing families to lose their homes, crops, and peace of mind. Residents report that last year’s floods were particularly destructive, as water surged into the gullies and dangerously approached their homes. Several houses have suffered partial damage due to the erosion.

“We are not happy that this gully erosion has not been fixed,” Isa complained. “When there is heavy rainfall, the water finds its way to fill up these gullies, leaving us and our homes at risk. If the rainy season comes now, we don’t even know what will happen.”  

Ruqayyah Ismail, another resident, described how the rainy season signals fear for her and other families. “When the rain falls, the front of our house turns into a river. Everywhere is filled with water as we have to stay indoors for days with our children without crossing over to the other side of our house,” she said. 

The erosion has already destroyed her gate, and each year the water pushes further inside. Recounting a near-miss ordeal, she added: “An Okada rider had once fallen into the hole. On his way home, he slipped and fell into a ditch. He almost lost his life, but his motorcycle was found at the other end of the gully.”

Muhammed Jibril, whose family moved into their new house in 2006, told HumAngle that the erosion gradually worsened as the population grew. “From about five years ago, it became massive. Last year’s rainy season was the worst of all. We lost everything due to erosion. For more than six months, our neighbours were the ones feeding us,” he said. 

Stored food supplies, including 13 bags of maize, were destroyed alongside clothing, electronic appliances, and money. 

“Till today, we have not recovered from the disaster. I had to sell my motorcycle to build a buffer zone behind my fence to minimise the destruction,” he added.  

Over the years, the persistent erosion has reshaped the community’s daily life. For most communities, the rainy season serves as a source of growth and prosperity, but for this community in Mokwa, it signals fear and disaster.

He described climbing to the overhead tank to monitor water levels, warning his family to evacuate if the flooding became too severe. The erosion even brought down his main gate, forcing him to relocate it onto a neighbour’s property. 

“Fortunately, my neighbours understand that’s why they’ve been patient with us. Until they [government] construct a proper channel for the water to pass through, we have no choice but to remain like this,” he said.  

Jibril told HumAngle that beyond psychological trauma, the financial toll has been staggering. 

“Last year alone, if I recall the losses, it could make me cry. All of my harvests were destroyed, including sesame seeds, which were expensive in the market. In total, we lost about ₦4 million. But we were lucky not to lose any lives,” Jibril noted. 

After every flood incident, residents say people who identify as World Bank officials visited the community to take measurements and collect their details, only to remain silent afterwards. “We need assistance before the rains start. They should fix it so that we can have peace of mind. That is all we ask for now,” Jibril pleaded.  

According to the disaster expert Idris, the absence of adequate land management practices and unchecked deforestation are driving the crisis.

“Addressing gully erosion requires adequate land management practices, and if you look at Mokwa, that is absent,” Idris explained. “Deforestation has been thriving in the environment due to abject poverty, as people cut down trees for charcoal. Also, there has been little to no effort from the government to educate the community on erosion control measures.”

He called for accountability and a shift in leadership priorities.

“Unless we address corruption, unless our leaders change from their personal interests to that of the people, and unless they value the lives of those communities they are governing, we are not going to get it right.”

On April 7, HumAngle submitted a Freedom of Information (FOI) request to the Niger State government through the Commissioner for Environment and Climate Change, Hon. Alhaji Abubakar Musa. The request sought clarification regarding the $10 million World Bank-assisted fund earmarked for the Mokwa gully erosion control and also some ACReSAL projects in the LGA.  

The government has not responded to that request. This lack of response comes despite the stipulated timeframe (7 days, with an extension of another 7 days) for a reply, as outlined in Nigeria’s FOI Act of 2011.

For Ike Uche and many others looking to flee the turmoil of gang violence in Niger State, North Central Nigeria, the eastern bypass area of the Minna metropolis was supposed to be a sanctuary. After years of hard work, Ike finally finished building his house, which is located behind the M. I. Wushishi Housing Estate along the bypass.

For him, the move symbolised a fresh start, a promise of safety, and a chance to raise his family in a peaceful environment. The quiet streets, the open plots waiting for development, and the hum of a growing community gave him hope that life there would be different from New Market, an area notorious for gang violence in Minna. Within a year of moving there, that dream began to die when gold was said to have been discovered in the community. 

For about five years now, the silence of his neighbourhood has been broken not by the laughter of children or the bustle of new shops, but by the metallic clang of shovels and the chaos of hundreds of illegal miners, mostly youths. 

Illegal miners had occupied lands within the community. Armed with weapons, cutlasses, and knives, and emboldened by impunity, they dig through residential lands in search of gold, carving scars into the earth and into the lives of those who lived there.  

At first, Ike thought it was a case of young people constituting a nuisance, but when he confronted the miners who closed onto his property, his worst fears materialised. The same day he confronted them in late 2024, his home was attacked. During the attack, miners rained insults, calling him an enemy of progress and telling him to mind his own business while they focused on theirs.

“They vandalised my house,” he said, his voice heavy with frustration. “People from the ministry came to my house and told me that the government will take action. It’s been over a year now; the situation has only worsened.”

His vehicle was damaged too; his windows were shattered, doors broken, and even his ceiling ripped apart.

“I had to shoulder all the responsibilities to fix everything myself,” he said, pointing to the patched walls and replaced fittings. For him, the cost was not just financial but also emotional: a constant reminder that the safety he sought had been stolen.  

Even after the attack, the miners threatened to attack again. What was meant to be a safe haven had gradually changed into a battleground, where the pursuit of illicit wealth outweighed the sanctity of family and home.

“If you come here during the rainy season, you will see more than one thousand people digging through people’s land,” he said. “It’s because we are in the dry season that their presence has reduced, but we still feel threatened by them.”

This climate of fear has silenced many residents. “That is why a lot of people are scared to speak about it publicly because they can be attacked by these boys,” he added.

For many people living in the area, safety has become a significant concern.

“How can one be safe in this kind of environment?” Ike wondered. “If I have another means to leave here, I would because we no longer feel safe here. This is not something somebody will start asking questions about; everybody knows that on the issue of gold mining, the government is not doing anything. The three-arm zone is not far from here; they are seeing it. It’s on the expressway, and they’re not taking any serious action. That is why they are doing it without any fear.”

The damage caused by illegal mining in Minna’s eastern bypass is not limited to land alone; it has seeped into the lives of residents, eroding their sense of safety and community. During field reporting, HumAngle observed how roads once passable have been torn apart by miners digging for gold, leaving behind networks of gullies and broken pathways.

Illegal mining in Niger State’s metropolitan area remains unchecked, characterised by blatant impunity and the failure of security agencies to take decisive action. Massive pits were seen scattered across vast lands. One of the pits was so deep that it held over 15 people in sequence as they disposed of debris. This massive pit sat close to a carcass that was now covered in debris.

Locals, including Muhammad Ndagi, claim that most miners are not originally from Minna, with many arriving from Sokoto and Zamfara in northwestern Nigeria. Armed with machetes, some illegal miners in  Minna are emboldened by weak enforcement, vandalising properties, including one belonging to an army general. Beyond the damages, illegal mining sites in Minna have become arenas of violence, where weapons are now part of daily survival. 

An illegal miner who simply identifies as Rugged explained that the practice began as a response to constant power struggles among young people in the state capital.

“Miners who are stronger or have the numbers tend to attack the weak ones to collect their gold or money. So, we decided to also come with our weapons in order to protect ourselves and avoid intimidation,” the illicit miner told HumAngle.  

Over time, the weapons were not only used against rival miners but also against residents and security personnel. Confirming what residents told HumAngle, Rugged admitted that when community members tried to stop them, they were chased away with threats.

“With the weapons, they were scared, and we would chase them away. We also use them to protect ourselves from security personnel who come to disrupt our activities,” he added.  

The presence of men, women, and children at these sites underscores how deeply entrenched their activity has become. Ndagi stated that attempts by Nigeria Civil Defence Corps (NCDC) officers to intervene are often met with hostility, as the miners retaliate as a gang.

“Whenever their vehicles approach, the miners start shouting ‘ƙarya ne!’ and throwing stones,” Ndagi said. “If anyone is arrested by the civil defence officers, the miners converge as a gang to fight them, and at the end they get released before returning to continue their operations.”  

“They have left mining activity in the hands of hoodlums who you can’t dare challenge even on your property, and as a taxpayer,” Ndagi lamented.

Residents expressed concerns over the possible consequences of these illegal activities, which include devastating effects on waterways as they expand towards homes, buildings at risk of collapse, and daily clashes involving machetes.

Girls in the pits of gold

Mining activities in the metropolis have also attracted many girls, including school-aged children, who abandon classrooms for the lure of quick earnings. Hannatu Audu, a 16-year-old student of Hilltop Model School, is one of them. She told HumAngle that on some days she earns between ₦10,000 and ₦15,000, and once made as much as ₦300,000 from selling gold. But the money comes at a high cost. In her pursuit of survival, she has nearly lost her life multiple times inside collapsing pits. 

On one occasion, after returning to retrieve her pan, the soil caved in and buried her completely. 

“I went into the pit to gather materials, and when I came out to look for water to wash and separate the gold, I realised I had forgotten my pan inside. So, I went back in to get it. That was when the soil collapsed and buried me for the third time,”  she recalled.

“My friend noticed I hadn’t come out. She saw fresh soil in the pit and shouted for help. People kept digging until they reached my waist; that was when I finally got to breathe. But as they continued, the pit collapsed again. I only woke up the next day to find myself lying on a hospital bed.” 

Since the incident, Hannatu has been scared to go back.  “I want to, because that’s where we feed from. But anytime I think of going there, I feel something bad will happen to me,” she said. Beyond the physical dangers, Hannatu told HumAngle that she and other girls face constant harassment. 

At the sites, men often demand sexual favours, threatening to deny access to pits or refuse assistance with heavy tasks if these are declined.

“There are instances where you need a stronger person to help you, especially in digging or pulling out the debris you intend to wash because it is heavy. So, if you decline their proposal, they will hate you and hinder you from even accessing the pits they have dug,” she noted. 

Women and girls in northern Nigeria’s mining sites face severe risks, including sexual harassment, exploitation, and life-threatening accidents, forcing many girls into vulnerable positions, where survival is negotiated not only through labour but also through resisting exploitation. 

Hannatu revealed that sympathetic miners intervene to protect them, but the environment remains hostile. “To cope, we form girls-only groups, working together to reduce dependence on men so that we can protect ourselves from predators. 

The dangers remain constant. Hannatu acknowledged that she has lost track of how many people have perished in the pits.

“For young girls like myself, mining is both a lifeline and a trap: because it is a place where we can earn enough to feed our families, yet where every day carries the possibility of violence, exploitation, or death,” she noted.

A broader crisis 

Illegal mining in Nigeria is not only an economic drain but is also a direct driver of insecurity. According to a 2025 report by the National Assembly Library Trust Fund, unregulated mining sites in the north-central and northwestern states have become fertile ground for armed groups. 

Terror groups impose “protection fees” on miners, smuggle minerals to finance weapons, and use mining fields as safe havens. In states like Zamfara, Kaduna, and Niger, the overlap between mining zones and terrorist camps is striking, with many illegal mining sites linked to violent networks, according to the report.

The report also emphasised that mining areas often function as ungoverned spaces, where state authority is absent and criminal groups thrive. Competition over access to gold pits sparks violent clashes, while communities are displaced and stripped of livelihoods.

Illegal mining in Niger State has found its way spreading to parts of Minna metropolis, carving deep scars into several communities and fueling gang violence. A report by the Nigeria Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (NEITI) ranks the state as having the highest number of illegal mining sites in Nigeria. Areas such as Shiroro, Munya, Rafi, and Paikoro Local Government Areas (LGAs) are the most severely affected. These areas, rich in gold and lithium deposits, have become magnets for unlicensed miners and armed groups.  

In Shiroro and Munya, illegal mining fuels insecurity. Armed groups impose “taxes” on miners, using the proceeds to purchase weapons and sustain violent operations. Communities there face displacement, with residents abandoning farmland and homes due to constant attacks. 

In areas like Rafi, illegal mining activities have led to environmental devastation, with road networks and farmlands destroyed by uncontrolled digging. In Paikoro and Minna’s outskirts, such as the Pmapi community, residents recount tragic accidents from collapsed pits and violent reprisals when they challenge miners.

In February this year, the Niger State Government ordered the immediate closure of illegal and non-compliant mining sites. The directive followed a joint inspection carried out by the State Ministry of Mineral Resources in collaboration with the Federal Ministry of Solid Minerals Development.  

Leading the delegation, the state’s Commissioner for Mineral Resources, Qasim Danjuma, revealed that operators without valid federal licences and proper state documentation would not be allowed to continue operations. 

While the move signals the government’s renewed effort to curb illegal mining and enforce compliance in the state’s mineral sector, residents in affected communities in the metropolis believe the government is not walking the talk, as the menace persists. 

“Until the government has the political will to stop it, the situation can only get worse, especially as the rainy season is fast approaching,” Ike warned.

Abbas Idris, President of the Risk Managers Society of Nigeria (RIMSON), emphasised that unchecked illegal mining in Minna metropolis could lead to severe environmental damage and security challenges. 

Idris warned that illegal mining leads to the destruction of land, ecological balance, and loss of arable land that could have long term consequences.

“Land degradation increases the risk of flooding during the rainy season, leaving communities exposed to disaster. Also, mining activities undermine infrastructure, weakening roads and buildings, which creates hazardous living conditions and communities in the affected areas are bound to face heightened risks due to poor access to safe housing.”

“Most concerning is that illegal mining operations, especially in a state like Niger where terrorists are turning it into a sanctuary, can fuel crime, violence, and conflicts over resources where armed groups exploit the situation, worsening insecurity and displacing populations,” he added.

While criticising weak governance and ineffective law enforcement, Idris warned that unchecked illegal mining devastates society and traps communities in cycles of insecurity and deprivation.

HumAngle has shared the findings of this report with the Niger State government through the Chief Press Secretary, Ibrahim Bologi, who has failed to respond to the questions aimed at providing clarity on illegal mining in Minna metropolis.

It was just past 10:30 p.m. on Sunday, Sept. 14, 2025, when Allwell Nelson was abducted from her family residence in Dong, a community in Jos North Local Government Area (LGA), Plateau State, North Central Nigeria.

She and her niece had just finished bathing and were in their pyjamas, settling down to watch a film before bed, when her brother-in-law burst into the room.

“Armed robbers! Armed robbers! Call the police!” he shouted.

Her heart leapt. She grabbed her phone and called a friend who works at a nearby police station, barely ten minutes away, then tried to alert the neighbours. No one came out. Outside, the attackers struggled to break the front doors.

At the time, Allwell was serving with the National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) in Bauchi, northeastern Nigeria. She had returned home to prepare for her wedding, scheduled for the following Saturday.

The attackers, armed with handguns, cutlasses, an axe, and a digger, operated for over 45 minutes, she recounted. They first went to the master bedroom, which was empty. Her brother-in-law had fled through the back door, jumping over the fence to get help. From there, they moved to the children’s room, where the children were sleeping, before arriving at Allwell’s room.

“We were five in my room,” she said. “Me, my sister, my one-year-old niece, my older niece, and my cousin. We ran into the bathroom and locked ourselves in.”

When the attackers found them, they asked after her brother-in-law, insisting they had heard his voice, but they told them that he wasn’t around. After firing a gunshot, the four kidnappers moved the family to the living room and continued questioning them. “They eventually asked my cousin and me to follow them,” Allwell said.

Before leaving, they went to the kitchen and packed foodstuffs such as noodles and garri. One of them never spoke; his face was covered, and he carried the food. They forced the victims through the fence and across a nearby river, pausing at one point to make a phone call.

“The question here is, who were they calling?” she asked. “The person who sent them [informant], or the security agency?”

A spreading pattern across Jos

Dong is a fast-growing neighbourhood, bordering the conflict-hit Bassa Local Government Area and the Jos Wildlife Park. Despite nearby security posts and military checkpoints positioned at both ends of the route into the community, kidnappings have continued. Notably, these measures were already in place as the attacks persisted.

But the pattern seen in Dong is not confined to a single neighbourhood. Across the Jos-Bukuru metropolis, which includes Jos North and Jos South LGAs, similar incidents have emerged, suggesting a far-reaching threat.

On March 24, Sunday Agang, chairperson of the Board of Trustees of Evangelical Church Winning All (ECWA), was abducted from his residence in the Faringada area of Jos North. Earlier, in January 2026, three daughters of the Managing Director of the Plateau State Water Board, Apollos Samchi, were abducted during an attack on his residence in Rantya, in Jos South, about a fifteen-minute drive away from Dong. 

In the same month, a retired Nigerian Army colonel was kidnapped in Rukuba Road, not far from Dong, and he was later rescued by security operatives. Barely weeks after Allwell’s abduction, Laven Jacob, a member of the Plateau State House of Assembly, was abducted in Dong. 

These incidents, alongside others that often go unreported, reinforce the sense that kidnapping in Jos has evolved into a citywide crisis rather than a series of isolated events. Between September 2025, when Allwell was abducted, and March 2026, at least four reported kidnapping incidents were recorded in the Jos-Bukuru metropolis. 

Similar incidents stretch back years. For instance, in 2022, a retired naval officer, Hellen Godos, was killed in her home in Dong by kidnappers, who were attempting to abduct her son.

The role of informants

Many of these incidents, residents and officials say, are driven by insiders within the communities themselves.

“The people work with informants,” said Peter, a community elder in Dong who gave only his first name. “They target specific people, who they believe are doing well.” 

He added that during a security meeting held in the community in December 2025, the role of informants was discussed as one of the major factors responsible. “These criminals don’t know the communities; they depend on people from within.”

Generally, kidnappers often rely on information from inside communities to identify their targets, quietly shaping who is taken and when. A recent HumAngle investigation in Kano State found how kidnappers targeted a man after local knowledge of his movements and finances was passed on to criminals. 

In December 2025, troops of the Joint Task Force, Operation ENDURING PEACE, neutralised a suspected kidnapper and arrested three alleged informants who were targeting Dong. In October 2025, the Plateau Police Command also arrested suspected kidnappers, including an informant who supplied foodstuffs to kidnappers in the mountainous Mazah community in Jos North. 

Even so, the sense that local knowledge is being used to enable abductions persists.

Chris Iyama, an influential civil society leader in the state, described a similar pattern after he was abducted on March 8 in front of his residence in Rayfield-Guratopp.

“One of them, I presumed to be the leader of the [kidnappers], called my name and wanted to be sure if my name was Chris. I immediately affirmed. That was the beginning of my ordeal as we walked through different forests, mountains…,” he said.

He added that they took him to a forest somewhere between Bokkos and Barkin Ladi.

Captivity, ransom, and survival

A fact-finding committee set up by the Plateau State government reported that at least 420 communities across 13 local government areas – particularly in Bokkos, Barkin Ladi, and Riyom – were attacked between 2001 and 2025, with more than 11,000 people killed.

“They have been taken over, renamed, and people are living there conveniently on lands they pushed people away to occupy,” said Governor Caleb Mutfwang. “For those who think that the current situation is a farmer-herder issue, let me disabuse your mind from that perception; it is a product of organised crime by malicious elements who do not want peace to reign in the state.”

Allwell’s abduction unfolded within that wider landscape. She and her cousin were taken towards Bassa LGA, another hotspot. In April 2025, terrorists killed 52 people overnight in Zike village, in the Kimakpa/Kwall District of Bassa.

She said they were forced to walk through nearby Dong Kassa towards the Rafiki-Miango axis in Bassa. Along the way, they saw a police truck, and the kidnappers made them squat in the bush. “We trekked for over an hour,” she said.

When they arrived in Bassa, the abductors, who she said did not speak Hausa properly but Fulfulde, led them towards an area where herders kept cattle. At the time, she was serving in the country’s North East, and she said she was able to identify the language. 

“When we got nearby, the people tending the cattle started shining torchlights at us and asked who we were and why we were in their territory,” she said. The kidnappers shot two of the herders who questioned them. “At that point, I felt like I was dying.”

Hannah Silas, a development worker in the region, said incidents like this can feed into cycles of violence. “For instance, when the herders wake up and see someone dead, they will assume it was the locals who killed them, and it will lead to reprisals that should not happen,” she said.

The Miyetti Allah Cattle Breeders Association of Nigeria (MACBAN) has stated that “bad elements” and criminals have infiltrated their ranks, masquerading as herders to commit kidnappings and violent crimes. Misidentification, in this context, risks reinforcing the very cycles of violence residents are trying to survive.

They continued walking until they reached the captors’ den.

Allwell and her cousin spent more than three nights in captivity. Unlike Chris Iyama, who said he “was beaten black and blue and at some point they wanted to pull the trigger on my head”, Allwell told HumAngle that they were not physically assaulted and were given food, but she described intense fear and psychological pressure.

“I remember I was sick at that time, and one of them went to town to get medication for me,” she recounted. “I couldn’t take it because I was scared.”

The abductors demanded ₦50 million. “I told them that I am a civil servant and I don’t have [such an amount of money],” said Solomon Dansura, her brother-in-law.

As the incident gained attention on social media, NYSC officials visited the family.

“The authorities knew about the incident, but nothing was done,” Allwell said.

While negotiations continued, the abductors threatened to kill her cousin if the ransom was not paid. The family tried to raise funds without assistance from authorities.

A ransom was eventually paid, and they were released on Wednesday, Sept. 14, 2025. 

Allwell does not know the exact amount, but the last figure she overheard was about ₦5 million. “The security did not rescue us,” she said.

Chris Iyama also said his family paid a ransom, and that his release was arranged in a forested, mountainous area in Bokkos.

Security gaps and fading trust

For residents, these experiences are rarely reflected in official communication. 

Kidnap-for-ransom remains one of Nigeria’s most persistent security crises. Although ransom payments are illegal, families often treat them as the only viable option, citing slow responses from authorities. In some cases, influential public figures, including government officials, have openly crowdfunded ransom payments.

Between July 2024 and June 2025, at least 4,722 people were abducted across nearly 1,000 incidents nationwide, according to SBM Intelligence. Kidnappers demanded about ₦48 billion in ransom during that period, while families paid an estimated ₦2.57 billion. At least 762 people were killed in abduction-related violence.

Earlier in January, the Jos North Local Government Council launched a police outpost in Dong to improve security. 

“This police outpost is not just a structure of blocks and mortar; it is a symbol of our resolve to protect lives and property,” said John Christopher, the local government chairperson, at the launch. “For the people of the Dong community who have endured the trauma of insecurity and kidnapping, this facility represents hope, reassurance, and a renewed sense of safety.”

When HumAngle visited the facility, which is five minutes on foot from the main entrance to Dong, in March, it was deserted. Dry weeds filled the compound, the gate was locked, and no officers were present.

An 8 p.m. curfew imposed in Dong in 2025 was later relaxed in January, according to a security officer at a local church. “But once it is 10 p.m., you will not see people outside,” he said. “Some of the local hunters, who protect the community, recently engaged in a gun battle and killed a suspect, so the incidents have reduced.”

Even with that, some residents say they still feel unsafe. 

Sunday evenings are usually a beehive of commercial activity at Angwan Rukuba Junction, but it turned deadly on March 29, at around 7:45 p.m., when assailants opened fire on people at random in the area, located in Jos North Local Government Area (LGA), Plateau State, in North Central Nigeria.

Eyewitnesses gave differing accounts of the attackers’ arrival, with some saying they came in a red Sharon van, while others reported they arrived on motorcycles. They were described as dressed in black camouflage, with their faces covered, and armed with guns and cutlasses. The motive and identity of the assailants remain unknown, and no group has claimed responsibility.

At least 27 people were killed, including a pregnant woman, while others were injured, according to Dalyop Mwantiri, President of the Berom Youth Moulders Association.

Sunday Akintola, a resident, said the high number of casualties was due to people being caught unawares, as residents initially assumed the gunshots were stray bullets from officers of the National Drug Enforcement Agency, which “usually come to harass young men in the area”. “Once people stepped in, they were shot at close range, while others were chased and struck with machetes,” he noted.

Although there is a police station at the junction where the incident occurred, residents said the response was slow, alleging that some officers on duty fled when the attack began, before reinforcements later arrived from the state headquarters.

Alfred Alabo, the spokesperson of the Plateau Police Command, says they “are currently combing the nearby bushes to ensure that the suspects are arrested or dislodged”.

Angwan Rukuba is located just 10 minutes from both the Jos Main Market and University of Jos facilities, including the Senior Staff Quarters, Main Campus, and Permanent Site, as well as private housing for university staff and students. It also borders a large stretch of hills, including the popular Gog and Magog.

Notably, it is not a rural farming settlement or a mining community, but a densely populated, urban residential area with a diverse mix of residents, including students, civil servants, and traders. As such, the incident does not fit the typical pattern of farmer–herder clashes often reported in Plateau State.

“This is right inside Jos. It is a mixed community; it is really a melting pot because everybody is here, and an injury to one is an injury to all,” said Julie Sanda, Director General of the Plateau Peace Building Agency (PPBA). “It was an unprovoked attack.”

Violence in Plateau State is multidimensional, involving terror attacks, conflict between farmers and herders in rural communities, and ethno-religious tensions that have rocked the city since 2001. However, one thing is common about these incidents in the Jos–Bukuru metropolis: they often lead to revenge attacks among ethno-religious groups, driven by deep-seated mistrust, which has in turn contributed to polarised settlements.

“If you know anything about Jos, if this incident had happened ten years ago, I don’t think we would be here today. It shows the resilience of the people and their courage,” Julie said.

Shortly after the attack on Sunday, the Plateau State Government imposed a dusk-to-dawn curfew in Jos North LGA until Wednesday, April 1. However, residents took to the streets in protest, displaying the bodies of the deceased. Additionally, the University of Jos has rescheduled its ongoing semester examinations. Caleb Mutfwang, the state governor, also visited the community on Monday, March 30.

“I assure you that those responsible for this evil act will not go unpunished,” he said.

The state government has also reiterated its ban on commercial motorcycles in the Jos–Bukuru metropolis, which covers Jos North and Jos South LGAs. “Meanwhile, the hours of operation for tricycle riders (keke) still remain 6:00 a.m. to 7 p.m.,” according to Davou Gyang Jatua, the state Commissioner of Transport.

Residents who spoke to HumAngle said that, in recent months, unfamiliar motorcyclists — some of whom do not know locations within the metropolis — have been moving around. “Whenever I see keke and okada (motorcycles) out very late, I know there’s a risk of evil acts being perpetrated using them,” said Zoe Machunga, a Jos resident.

In the weeks leading up to the attack, some social media accounts had posted videos inciting violence in Jos, although it remains unclear whether such messaging contributed to the incident. The governor said the social media users responsible for the posts have been apprehended, a claim confirmed by Alfred, the police spokesperson, during a radio interview on Monday.

“Injustice has made healing difficult in Plateau State,” said Joseph Lengmang, a peace and security expert and former Director General of PPBA. “Peacebuilding efforts remain incomplete, and some underlying issues still need to be addressed.”

Panic came last for Mubarak Hassan* on the evening of March 28, 2022. 

It’s been four years since the terrorist attack on the Abuja-Kaduna train, but the memories still echo. After one of his clients was arrested by the Nigeria Customs Service  (NCS) for alleged forgery, Mubarak travelled to the Abuja Headquarters to process his administrative bail. He was supposed to return on the same day he finished the process, but decided to spend one more night. 

“My client’s family friend,  who also happened to be a lawyer, insisted that we catch up with the evening train,” he recalled.  Tired and exhausted, Mubarak was sleeping on board when the sound of a blast reached him. 

“The next thing I heard was a voice saying that we were under attack and we should turn off our phones and lie down, which we all did. At first, I did not panic. I was asking myself if it was real or maybe the train just shifted its position, and it was misinterpreted to be an attack,” he said.

His worst fears were confirmed five minutes later, after the first gunshot tore through the wind, hitting the body of the train. Everything was happening so fast that he was struggling to process it. 

The attack on the train carrying 970 passengers happened at approximately 7:45 p.m. in Katari, Kaduna State, northwestern Nigeria. The terrorists used explosives to halt the train before firing and kidnapping passengers. This incident, which resulted in ten deaths, multiple injuries and kidnappings, later caused the Nigerian Railway Corporation (NRC) to pause its services. 

“We started to hear the screams of passengers from other coaches and the footsteps of people heading towards our coach for safety, because the gunfire started from their side. Other people in our coach started to scream as well, but a man who identified as a Colonel with the Nigerian army said that our screams would draw the attention of the terrorists to us, so we tried to keep calm,” Mubarak told HumAngle.

Mubarak, like many others in the coach, started praying. Panic heightened as the terrorists reached the coach before them. Their voices echoed through the train as they asked people to keep quiet and lie down. 

“We heard a gunshot, and one of them asked the other terrorist who shot someone why he did that in Hausa, and he said it was because the man was showing he wanted to survive more than anyone else by raising his head, but the other terrorist said no one should shoot again, they should just take people and leave.”

A few minutes passed before they started to hear other gunshots, and the man who said he was a colonel said some soldiers came to rescue them. When the soldiers arrived, they told them not to panic and asked them to check the other coaches for their relatives. 

“Our coach was one of the safest, except for a medical doctor who was killed as a result of a stray bullet; no one else was shot.  The first thing I saw when I stepped outside was the dead body of a man. Some other people were bleeding due to some injuries they sustained.  We started helping the soldiers evacuate the passengers. The younger ones, like us, helped carry the children and elderly ones on their backs, after which the wounded ones were also moved,” he added. 

They had to climb up a sloppy hill because of the train’s position. They rested for about 20 minutes before they trekked to the main road. The army later transported them to the 44 Hospital in Kaduna around 5:30 a.m. They were checked, and people like Mubarak, who sustained no injuries, were discharged by 6 a.m. 

That was the last time Mubarak used the train. 

But this attack is only one of many issues that eroded passengers’ trust and raised concerns over the years. Train stops in the middle of nowhere, derailments, ticket racketeering, and other issues continue to affect passengers. Despite these pending issues, the NRC increased the number of trips per day earlier this month in “response to growing passenger demand.”  

This increase was what encouraged Sada Malumfashi, a journalist and researcher, to take the train again on March 12, something he had avoided recently due to the stress of trying to get a ticket for the single train ride per day. He didn’t expect to end up in an accident that day. 

According to the NRC, the accident occurred when a rear locomotive made contact with a passenger coach due to a coupling issue, and no casualties were reported. The train arrived 38 minutes behind schedule due to the accident. 

“We left on time around 7:15 a.m. It was a smooth ride at first. When we reached Jere, they made an announcement, but we couldn’t hear it from our coach. I drifted off to sleep but woke up to a banging noise. I fell off my seat, but I didn’t hit anything,” Sada said. “Due to the previous history of attacks, people were terrified, many were shouting, praying loudly, and panicking. 

Sada assumed the train was going to derail, and he tried to hold onto whatever he could. “My second thought was that maybe it was a terrorist attack, I crouched waiting for gunshots just in case because I did some reporting on the last train attack that happened in 2022 and talking to people who were directly on that train gave me a front row seat to that experience and what they described was very similar to what was happening at the moment,” he said. 

When he didn’t hear any gunshots, he got up and began checking his surroundings. The place was in disarray: luggage was on the floor, and things spilt from the cafe section at the end of their coach. 

“I saw one of the workers lying on the floor, and his leg was bleeding. There was also a pregnant lady crying as she hit her stomach. Someone couldn’t stand up because he hit his back, and another person behind me was bleeding through his mouth,” he explained. 

The incident happened about two to three minutes from Asham station on the Abuja-Kaduna corridor, so he walked to the station. Some military personnel arrived to check the accident, which gave passengers some comfort. After a while, a Hilux car, assumed to be from the  NRC, came to check the accident. 

“They didn’t communicate anything, but they took a look around. At that point, many passengers were out of the train and were hanging around outside. They turned on the engine, and we started moving again. It was a sombre trip back to Kubwa,” he said.  

A long history of train glitches

It was one such stop that made Chidera Egbo’s first visit to northern Nigeria in December 2021 a journey wrapped in terror. After he was posted to Kaduna for his National Youth Service, he tried to get a direct car from Enugu, southeastern Nigeria, where he was based, but unfortunately, he could only get one to Abuja, where he was advised to take a train. He was excited as it was his first time on a train.

Things went well at first, and he started a conversation with the girl sitting next to him. “While we were chatting, we heard an explosive sound and the train started to slow down. People started to talk, but I couldn’t understand anything as they were mostly speaking their native tongue,” he said. He panicked along with them.  The incident happened about 10 to 15 minutes away from the Kaduna station. 

He noted that there were some armed security personnel on board that day. He remembered seeing some people lying on the floor, and he followed suit. 

When the train stopped, he started to regret getting on it, and his fear worsened when someone said it was a terrorist attack. The lack of official clarification about what was happening also increased his panic. Even an hour after their supposed arrival time, no help was sent from the station. When the lights went out, a man in their coach suggested they lie down and shut off their phone lights because everyone assumed they were under attack. During that period, some passengers panicked, thinking they saw lights they believed were people approaching. They turned out to be distant static lights. 

“There was zero reception, and I had no way of contacting people to let them know what was happening. After a while, they told us that help was coming from Abuja.” The lack of phone reception rattled many of the passengers, who were worried about their families back home and had no idea what was happening to them. Some passengers demanded information. Eventually, people started to lighten up when an NRC staff member announced that help would be arriving in about 30 to 40 minutes. 

After a while, some people started demanding to be let out of the train due to the heat. It took hours for the help to arrive, and the train kept stopping as it was being pushed towards the Kaduna station. He didn’t make it to his destination till after 2 p.m. 

The experience left him rattled. He now feels anxious every time he has to travel. “I don’t travel often, but when I do, I am always on edge and feel like I am going to be attacked,” he said. 

Despite the impact of this incident, it was mostly not covered by the mainstream media. 

For some people, like Rashida Idris*, stories like this make them sceptical about using the service. “ I always hear people say it gets faulty midway, and I prefer to use the car due to how inconvenient the train is. But then, on the 2nd of August 2025, my mum, older brother, and I decided to use the train to travel down to Abuja, and it turned out to be the worst decision we made that day,” she said. It started with a slight burning smell that worsened as the train moved on, then slowed and later stopped completely. 

The train, which was supposed to leave at 7:00 a.m., didn’t arrive until 2:30 p.m, and they ended up missing the event for which they were travelling. Drinking water ran out on board, and the air conditioners stopped working, leaving people anxious and dehydrated in the heat. 

“It was very chaotic, and we were very hungry and tired. The train just stopped mid-way, no explanation from them whatsoever,” she told HumAngle.

She hasn’t used the train again since that day. 

Sometimes, these stops harm passengers, as in August 2025, when they caused a derailment en route to Kaduna. Khadija Zahradden, who was on that train, said a loud noise woke her up from a nap. 

“The train started shaking, and there was a loud sound before it fell. Some parts of the train, like the coach I was in, were slanted, but it didn’t fall down completely. I remembered it was raining,” she said. 

The passengers got off the train and began trekking to a nearby military camp. A lot of security personnel came over, including fire service and road safety officials. She recalled that a military aircraft was patrolling and left with some of the people. 

“The military personnel also carried passengers to the closest bus stop, where we got cars to complete our trip,” she said.  

Dysfunction, ticket racketeering

Bukar Hassan* was on the first-ever train ride on that route, and for the past few years, he has used it to shuttle between the two states. But now, the journey lacks enthusiasm, and his experience keeps worsening, with tickets becoming harder to obtain by the day.

“First, you have to know someone reliable whom you probably have to keep on your payroll in anticipation of a future occurrence. Usually, an NRC or TPS staff member guarantees an offline ticket,” Bukar said. “Where they are unable to secure one themselves, they look to a syndicate that has created jobs for itself through this channel. You pay double the price, and most times, the ticket is issued in another person’s name, and you probably have to do with what is available, not your preferred class of travel.” This causes the 62-year-old man major concern. 

Apart from the barriers to getting tickets, technical breakdowns occasionally occur, and the experience is usually alarming, especially if the train stops in the middle of nowhere. The security concern is also a major issue for him, as are the stops, which affect his commitments, causing delays in scheduled meeting times and travel schedules.

This is also worsened by insufficient communication, leaving passengers to fill in the blanks when something happens. 

“Passengers hardly know what the issues are and rely mostly on hearsay. In some cases, apologies are not even tendered,” he lamented, noting that the recent creation of a passenger’s forum has provided passengers with an avenue to lodge complaints. 

HumAngle investigations reveal that when complaints are made, organisation staff respond promptly via the WhatsApp forum, but this has not reduced the number of issues plaguing travellers, and many people are unaware of this channel. A disabled passenger who spoke to HumAngle, but preferred not to be named, said the organisation is making efforts to make rides more accommodating for disabled passengers, with customer service representatives approaching them to discuss their needs. However, Bukar showed concern that the uncontrollable number of bag carriers on and off the train poses a security risk. 

“Security personnel handling weapons on board in the midst of plenty, even though comforting, can easily be manhandled. Sometimes, desperate passengers board without tickets. This is a major concern as you are not sure who is a genuine traveller,” he said. 

“There are too many ad hoc staff on board doing nothing but jumping up and down and making noise. Some are only waiting for the arrival to carry passengers’ bags. Thirdly, a single channel of buying tickets only is grossly inadequate. A more reliable, functional app should be available for passengers to buy tickets in advance. I personally do not see the rationale for restricting ticket purchases to only 48 hours. It does not make any business sense. These will actually be more efficient, and also reduce the offline business,” he added. 

Bukar also noticed that, during trips, stones are sometimes thrown aboard by nearby communities. He thought the incident had eased over the years, but HumAngle investigations show that this problem still persists: on December 24 2025, a stone was thrown aboard, shattering a window, which almost hit a passenger with her baby. 

Bukar continues to use that service, as the train is still the most convenient means of transportation for him at the moment. 

Like Bukar, Hassan Yunus*, who travels twice or three times a month, depending on his schedule, faces a similar problem. His family lives in Kaduna, while he works in Abuja. He frequently uses the train, which he considers the easiest and fastest way to travel between the two cities.  

“As a frequent passenger, I experience long stops quite a number of times, sometimes 30 minutes, sometimes an hour, depending on the cause, but the management and the operation team will work to resolve the situation. To me, the management is trying, just that they need to improve as a revenue-generating corporation,” he said. 

He believes the biggest barrier travellers face is ticketing issues with the transport payment solutions. He thinks the issue is fueled by poor customer service and system downtime. This also affects passengers’ quality of life, as many would have to stay awake to buy a ticket in the middle of the night. In a few instances, he was wrongfully debited after booking a ticket, and the process to get a refund for the missing ticket is usually stressful. 

Another passenger, Balarabe Bello*, says getting tickets from Abuja to Kaduna is often a struggle. “I often notice that sometimes they hold the servers, and you will struggle to get a ticket, especially the business class tickets. Even if you are on the app by 12:00 a.m. when tickets are supposed to be released, it just keeps loading, and you can’t buy them,” Balarabe said. 

In such cases, most people will attempt to buy directly from the train station workers, and a business class ticket, which usually goes for ₦6500, can sell for ₦8500, and he had heard of people being sold tickets as high as ₦15,000.

“My mum travels often as she works in Kaduna, and she is always complaining of one issue or another, such as uncomfortable seats and other technical issues. One time when I was on it, the train stopped in the middle of nowhere for like 10 to 15 minutes as a result of a burning smell coming from under the train,” he said. 

To confirm claims of ticket racketeering by passengers, a HumAngle reporter followed the process of purchasing tickets outside the official channel. We interacted with NRC officials selling tickets through the back door to desperate passengers, short-changing the government. We also found that some individuals who are not working in the ticketing office also profit from the existing dysfunction by charging passengers far above official rates. The back-door procedure is simple: you provide your full name, phone number, and National Identity Number (NIN), then pay extra for the tickets. Although there’s a website to purchase tickets, many passengers are unaware of it, leaving them with no option but to patronise the racketeers.

Halimat Akande* knew that getting tickets for the Kaduna-Abuja train could be a hassle, so she tried to buy tickets earlier for a Monday trip. She wanted to purchase two for herself and her mother at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday, but there weren’t any seats available.  

“My mom contacted someone who claims to work there. He said we should pay ₦5,000 for each ticket,” she said, a claim HumAngle confirms to be true. The price for economy or standard tickets on the website ranges from ₦3,600 to ₦ 3,800, depending on the seating arrangement. This option is the most affordable means of transportation from Kaduna to Abuja, as even car rides cost ₦9,000. 

The NRC official, whom Halimat contacted, had mistakenly bought Abuja-Kaduna train tickets instead of Kaduna-Abuja. He reassured her they would receive their proper tickets before their trip, asking them to arrive early on the travel date, as a worker from the Abuja station would hand them the tickets at the train station.

They arrived an hour before their trip.  “We stayed outside as we couldn’t check in since we didn’t have a ticket. A man approached us and told us we were not supposed to be standing there, and if we didn’t have a ticket, we should get out of the station.” Halimat and her mother both felt embarrassed and left the station to prevent further discomfort. 

When the man arrived, he asked them to wait a little longer, claiming he had their tickets ready. However, when he brought the tickets, both were registered under different names. She also noticed that one ticket was for the previous date, but he assured them it wouldn’t be a problem. After he spoke to some people, they were allowed to board with the one valid ticket. 

The man said he would get her a valid ticket before the journey started, but he never did. “After we boarded, my mum sat down in the assigned seat, and I sat down in the then-empty seat beside her, but the original owner came, and I had to stand up. I kept moving to about four or five random seats, but the rightful owners came up to claim those seats,” she told HumAngle. 

She met her colleague, who was in the same predicament when he came to claim her mother’s seat as his own; the details on his ticket matched hers exactly. 

“He told me that he was even going to take the road, but someone called him to tell him they had gotten him a ticket, only to give him the same exact ticket my mother had, which further complicated the situation. I think he ended up standing for a while,” Halimat said.  Eventually, her mother offered her a seat and tried to find an empty one on the train, but it took a while before they got one for Halimat.  

She was nervous and anxious, even after she got a seat, especially during the ticket verification round that happens during the trip. When the man reached her, she switched off her phone and claimed the battery had died. Fortunately, he bought her story, and she was able to escape for a moment. But her anxiety remained as the man told her to charge her phone before he returned, which he never did. 

“Even though I knew they couldn’t drop me while the train was in motion, I was worried they might report or  arrest me because  I had broken a rule.” The whole experience was terrible, and she started advising people not to buy tickets offline from station workers. 

For Nabila Shehu*, her trip to Abuja on July 25 2025, took a turn for the worse when she arrived at the train station and discovered that the number of passengers exceeded the original arrangement. 

“It seemed their server had issues that day, and some people were debited but didn’t get a ticket. Due to the high number of people that were affected, they just opened the train and asked us all to get in,” Nabila said. 

She couldn’t get a ticket earlier and called someone at the train station, who promised to get her one, but due to the pending issue, he couldn’t process any tickets for her and her four children. 

“We couldn’t get seats, but one of the staff members on board gave me his stool and also helped me get another. I couldn’t sit, and the children took turns,” she complained, noting that the trip was difficult and exhausting, as they arrived late. The air conditioner was barely working, she added, and the train was moving too slowly due to an overload.  “It was a terrible experience, and I avoided the train when I was returning.” 

However, when she used the train again in November, she encountered no issues.

HumAngle sent an email to the NRC seeking clarification on issues raised by passengers regarding dysfunction and ticket racketeering in the Abuja-Kaduna train operations.  We have yet to receive a response. Meanwhile, the risks of travelling the 198km between Abuja and Kaduna remain high, as passengers are forced to choose between the road, which has been under construction for the past six years, and the train, despite ongoing problems. 

Kasuwan Daji, once a bustling village, now lies in haunting silence. 

The aftermath of the Jan. 3 terror attack has stripped the community and market of their familiar rhythm, leaving behind charred homes and empty streets.

In the village market, located in the Borgu Local Government Area of Niger State, North Central Nigeria, where voices once mingled in trade and laughter every Wednesday, only the wind now moves through its abandoned, burnt makeshift tents.  

When HumAngle visited the community in February, the village felt hollow, its people gone—either displaced, abducted, or buried. 

Amid the ruins, Sule Amadu, an elderly man in his late 60s, moved slowly through the debris of his burnt house, searching for anything that might have survived the flames. He was dressed in the same clothes he wore on the day of the attack. 

His quiet scavenging symbolised both survival and loss. 

“I was at the farm when I first heard the roar of their motorcycles heading towards our village,” he recounted. “Moments later, they began shooting sporadically. In panic, I exclaimed, ‘Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji’un’ [from God we are and to Him we shall return].”

Sule said the violence was relentless, as the terrorists aimed their bullets directly at people. 

“Those who tried to run were chased down by terrorists on motorcycles. Two of them rode together—one driving, the other firing at random. What was our crime?” he added, his voice carrying both grief and bewilderment. 

State authorities said no fewer than 30 people were killed in the attack. However, eyewitnesses who spoke to HumAngle say 57 people were buried that day, while 49 others were abducted, contradicting the official figures.

Sule narrowly escaped death. His younger brother was killed, and nine of his grandchildren and his son’s wife were abducted that day. 

“When the terrorists stormed in, I was trying to bag my millet. One of them chased me while shooting, but by God’s mercy, I escaped the bullets. I ran and jumped into the river to save my life,” he said. 

How the attack unfolded 

Sule was not alone in witnessing the chaos that engulfed Kasuwan Daji. HumAngle met another resident, Isa Mamman, who said he was among the first to notice the approaching attackers and raise the alarm in the community that day. 

He recalled how the attack began and how quickly it unfolded.

Isa was alone in a nearby bush around 4 p.m. when he noticed heavy dust rising in the distance and the sound of motorcycles approaching. He immediately ran towards the community to raise the alarm, where he met another villager who was also fleeing. Isa learned from him that the attackers had stormed in from the market axis.  

Within minutes, chaos engulfed Kasuwan Daji. 

Gunshots echoed across the village as people screamed and scattered. Terrorists on motorcycles fired indiscriminately, chasing down those who tried to escape. Shops and homes were set ablaze, and the once-thriving market became a scene of devastation. 

Just like Amadu, Isa narrowly survived, as he was shot at twice as he fled into the bush. From his hiding place, he watched helplessly as villagers were slaughtered and houses reduced to ashes.  

The violence stretched into the night as Isa remained hidden, fearing an ambush, while the community lay in ruins. 

“By dawn, when I came back to the community, lifeless bodies were scattered across the village, food storage facilities were destroyed, and every house and the market were burnt,” he said. That day, I escaped by God’s grace. I ran into the bush to hide, but I could still see what was happening. I saw our people being slaughtered like rams.”

Isa noted that, “There was no part of the community where we didn’t find dead bodies. Every house in Kasuwan Daji was set ablaze. Our market and storage facilities, where we kept food, were burnt down. We’ve all fled because we are terrified they might attack again.”

A new terror base

Field investigations conducted by HumAngle across the Kasuwan Daji, Wawa, and Babanna areas of the Borgu LGA of Niger State, in February show that terrorist factions are now entrenched in and around the Kainji Lake National Park axis. 

Terror groups such as Mahmudawa (Mahmuda faction), Lakurawa, elements of Ansaru, and Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad (JAS) led by Sadiku and Umar Taraba, as well as a newly emerged cell affiliated with Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin, have turned the Kainji Forest Reserve into a safe haven.

These groups operate in interconnected networks rather than in isolation, exploiting local cover to conceal their movements. They conduct attacks in distant areas before retreating to established hideouts within the park’s surrounding communities.  

Kasuwan Daji is situated within this geographic corridor and has become a focal point due to its depth, accessibility, and lack of security presence. It sits about 14 kilometres from the Saint Mary’s Catholic School, where some schoolchildren were abducted in Nov. 2025.

The largely ungoverned terrain provides violent groups with mobility, supply routes, and escape paths across state and national boundaries. This strategic advantage has made the area increasingly attractive to extremist factions seeking to expand their operational reach.  

Recent incidents in Niger State and adjoining areas — including coordinated assaults on villages and high-profile abductions — have heightened concerns that extremist networks are embedding themselves beyond the country’s North East, their traditional stronghold. Their spillover into villages such as Kasuwan Daji, Agwara, Babanna, and Kaiama LGA of Kwara State underscores the emergence of a hybrid threat ecosystem in which ideology, criminal enterprise, and local grievances converge to reinforce instability.  

This evolving dynamic positions Kainji not only as a local security challenge but also as a critical node in the broader extremist landscape of the North Central region. 

Earlier attacks

The Kasuwan Daji attack of Jan. 3 was not the first. 

Months before, precisely in September 2025, residents told HumAngle that terrorists had entered the community and abducted several of its most significant figures. Among them was Usman Jatau, the village head, along with five others: Ibrahim Jatau (zone chair of Kambari), Anthony Yakubu Takura (youth leader), Mathew Ibrahim (head of vigilante), David (businessman), and Abu Agwara. 

To date, none of them has been heard from, a situation that has left families in anguish and the community without its leadership.  

After the abduction, Ajikali Jatau, the brother of the village chief and head of the Kasuwan Daji market, said the same attackers returned with greater brutality. 

“This time, their intent seemed clear—to wipe out the community. Villagers were slaughtered mercilessly, some tied with their hands behind their backs before being killed,” Ajikali told HumAngle. He believes the market was deliberately attacked because of its boom and constant business activities.

Ajikali told HumAngle how the market itself had its own history of struggle. 

“Before establishing Kasuwan Daji, we used to trade at Sokomba market every Wednesday. But after two young men from our tribe [Kambari] were killed and burnt there in broad daylight, we decided to stop going there. 

“One of the victims had tried to escape but was shot dead. The repeated harassment and targeting forced us to request that the market be moved somewhere else, but after several futile efforts, we created our own,” he revealed. 

For seven years, Kasuwan Daji market thrived, residents say, as they paid revenue to the local government—until it was reduced to ashes in the January attack.  

Displacement and human toll

More than 300,000 people have been displaced across 10 LGAs in Niger State, including residents of Kasuwan Daji, according to Governor Umaru Mohammed Bago. 

Hajara Shuaibu, a resident of Kasuwan Daji, is one of them. Her husband, Malam Shuaibu, a farmer, had made the village his home, cultivating produce with his family and planning to relocate there permanently. When the terrorists struck, Hajara’s world collapsed. Two of her younger brothers were kidnapped along with her husband’s other wife and daughter, forcing the family to flee to Papiri, a 14-kilometre drive from Borgu to Agwara LGA of Niger State, in search of refuge.

Before arriving at Papiri, Hajara said she and her children hid in the bush for three days, waiting for the violence to subside. 

“Our house was burnt to the ground, along with our belongings and food supplies. About two truckloads of grains and groundnuts that were harvested by my husband were destroyed in the fire, erasing our year-long hard work in a single night,” she said. 

Days later, her brother’s wife managed to escape captivity, only to return with devastating news: her husband [Hajara’s brother] and several others who had been abducted had been killed.  

The terror was felt even among the youngest. 

Suleiman, Hajara’s four-year-old grandson, was among the abducted persons from the attack but was later abandoned in the Gallah area of Agwara LGA, near the house of the village chief. 

His cries were said to be so persistent that the attackers eventually dropped him off before leaving with the other captives. 

Hajara said that the joy at seeing him [Suleiman] alive was quickly overshadowed by grief, as she remembered her slain brother and relatives still in captivity.   

‘We’re not thieves’

In the aftermath of the Jan. 3 attack, the Niger State Governor described Kasuwan Daji as a “market of thieves”, claiming that the community had become notorious for the sale of rustled cattle. He made the remarks during a condolence visit to the Emir of Borgu.  

Adding to the despair, he instructed the survivors to leave the Kasuwan Daji village altogether, even though no plans were announced for their relocation or resettlement, leaving families displaced, vulnerable, and uncertain of their future.

However, survivors of the attack strongly refuted the governor’s framing. 

Ajikali, brother of the village chief and leader of the now-destroyed market, told HumAngle, “We are not thieves. We are hard-working people, and the emirate is aware of us and our market. We are farmers—that is our business and what we are known for. We do not deal in the cattle business, so how can we be called thieves?”  

Sule also echoes this rejection of the governor’s claim: “I strongly disagree with the governor’s assertion that our market is ‘a market of thieves.’ We do not sell cows in Kasuwan Daji, yet he accuses us of selling rustled cows. He’s been misled by those around him.”

“The only thing I want is to have my grandchildren back. Even if they [terrorists] demand ransom, I have nothing to give except the clothes I am wearing. They burnt everything I owned—my food, my savings, and my animals were stolen,” he noted.

The Niger State Commissioner for Homeland Security, Bello Maurice Magaji, while reaffirming the government’s commitment to tackling insecurity through intelligence gathering and grassroots collaboration, also defended the governor’s branding regarding activities at the market, stressing that it was based on verified intelligence.

“We are adopting an intelligence-gathering strategy to understand the patterns of these crimes and attacks so that we can tackle the situation head-on,” the commissioner told HumAngle. He noted that the government is also engaged in advocacy to help citizens recognise early warning signs that may not have been obvious in the past. 

“Also, I believe that whatever information was released by His Excellency is based on facts that were made available. Our government does not simply go out to brand or profile people based on unverifiable information. Our government is too serious to speculate or issue statements without evidence. Therefore, we stand firmly by what the Governor said about the market,” he stated.

Investigation by HumAngle revealed that there are two markets with the same name: Kasuwan Daji. One is situated in Niger State, North-Central, and another in the Kauran Namoda area of Zamfara State, in northwestern Nigeria. 

Further checks also indicate that Kasuwar Daji Market in Kaura Namoda local government area of Zamfara State, is a popular hub for cattle rustling. Terrorists, in January, stormed the market and rustled over 500 cattle. 

Aminu Garba, Chairman of the Cattle Breeders Association of Nigeria in the state, told journalists that the operation was not an isolated incident noting that similar attacks have occurred in the past, with one recorded about four years ago. 

He explained that the terrorists infiltrate the market and nearby villages during the day, monitoring livestock transactions before striking. 

It is not impossible that the Niger State government is mistaking one Kasuwan Daji for the other. 

For Isa Mamman, another survivor of the attack in Niger State, the governor’s words add insult to injury. He explains that he and Amadu stayed behind in the community because they had nowhere else to go, even as their livestock was rustled and nearly fifty women and children were abducted. 

“It has been almost two months since the attack, yet nothing has been done. Neither the state governor nor the district head of Kabe has visited our community. Instead, we were insulted and labelled as thieves. We pay revenue to the government, yet they claim our market is illegal. Now, we have no food, no peace, and countless lives have been lost, and nothing has been done.”