A suicide explosion occurred at Al-Adum Jummat Mosque in Gamboru Market area of Maiduguri, northeastern Nigeria, on Wednesday, Dec. 24.
The bomb went off around 6:00 p.m., shortly after residents and traders began observing the evening prayers.
The Borno State Police Command confirmed that 5 persons lost their lives while 35 others sustained varying degrees of injuries.
“Preliminary investigations further suggest that the incident may have been a suicide bombing, based on the recovery of fragments of a suspected suicide vest and witness statements recorded, while investigations are ongoing to establish the exact cause and circumstances,” said ASP Nahum Kenneth Daso, Police Public Relations Officer of the Borno State Police Command.
People praying outside the mosque were also wounded after debris and shattered glass were scattered across the area.
Security personnel and emergency responders arrived to evacuate victims and sealed off the site.
The explosion marks the most serious incident reported in Maiduguri in recent times. Since the Boko Haram insurgency began over a decade ago in the city, suicide bombings like this one have been recorded across major cities in public places like worship areas and motor parks. The insurgency has killed over 35,000 people directly so far.
HumAngle observed several ambulances transporting the injured and the deceased to hospitals, while the police and military personnel maintained guard around the site of the explosion.
While some of the victims were taken to the Maiduguri Specialist Hospital, others were taken to the University of Maiduguri Teaching Hospital. At the Specialist Hospital, HumAngle counted 17 victims, with injuries on the arms and legs, admitted at the Weapon Wound Ward.
Some of the victims who were admitted at the Specialist Hospital. Photo: Al’amin Umar/HumAngle.
A trader at Gamboru Market said, “I was performing ablution when the blast occurred, and I ran away.” He confirmed that the explosion came from inside the mosque.
Gamboru Market is one of Maiduguri’s busiest commercial hubs, drawing traders and shoppers from Borno State and neighbouring countries like Chad, Cameroon, and Niger. The market hosts a variety of businesses, including stalls for fresh produce, textiles, clothing, household goods, and other everyday commodities.
It also serves as a centre for small-scale services like tailoring, food vending, and transport, making it a key economic lifeline for the local market, operating long into the night, sometimes until 9:00 p.m., even after the main market closes at 6:00 p.m.
Police operatives at the scene.
ASP Nahum Kenneth Daso also stated that “Police EOD personnel have cordoned off the area to ensure public safety, while investigations are ongoing.”
He urged members to remain calm and vigilant as security operations are ongoing.
Some of the eyewitnesses who helped in transporting the victims to the Specialist Hospital. Photo: Al’amin Umar/HumAngle.
A suicide explosion at Al-Adum Jummat Mosque in Gamboru Market, Maiduguri, northeastern Nigeria on December 24, claimed five lives and injured 35 others. The Borno State Police, suspecting a suicide bombing, found fragments of a possible suicide vest. Witnesses reported debris causing injuries to people praying outside, while security and emergency teams managed the site.
The location is significant; Gamboru Market is a major commercial hub in Maiduguri, frequented by locals and people from neighboring countries. The attack is one of the deadliest incidents in Maiduguri, which has suffered from Boko Haram insurgency-related suicide bombings over the past decade. Authorities, urging calm, continue their investigations as police and military maintain a guard around the explosion site.
Saturday, Dec. 13, 2025, was meant to be a pivotal civic exercise across Borno State, northeastern Nigeria, as residents were expected to elect chairpersons and councillors responsible for local development, basic services, and community representation. Instead, what unfolded across parts of the state bore little resemblance to a functioning democratic process.
Umar Ali, a resident of Gamboru in Maiduguri, stepped out that morning expecting to vote, but could not locate any polling unit nearby. “We thought it was just a delay, but there was no election activity at all,” he said.
His experience was replicated across the city and other neighbouring council wards. HumAngle observed that many polling units listed by the Borno State Independent Electoral Commission (BOSIEC) were deserted, with neither officials nor voters in sight. In locations where officials were present, there was only a handful of voters, often confined to near-empty compounds.
An exception was Ajari II polling unit in Mafa Ward, where Borno State Governor Babagana Zulum cast his vote, which recorded a higher turnout than most other locations observed.
In several neighbourhoods, residents watched the day pass from outside their homes or went about their chores. Conversations revealed frustration, distrust, and a widespread perception that the outcome had already been predetermined.
“This is not an election. It is a selection,” said Musa Ali, who declined to approach the polling unit closest to his house. He accused the government of determining the results in advance. “They already know what they are doing,” he argued.
For many residents, the only indication that an election was taking place was the restriction of movement imposed across the state. “If not for the ban, you would not even know voting is going on,” said 22-year-old Fatima Alai.
On some of the empty streets, children and even young adults turned it into football fields.
Borno State has over 2.5 million registered voters, with about 2.4 million Permanent Voter Cards collected, as of February 2023. Yet participation in local government elections remains low. It is unclear how many people voted in the Dec. 13 elections. However, this trend is not unique to Borno or even to the current election cycle.
Across Nigeria, turnout in local government elections is consistently lower than in national polls. Analysts and residents alike attribute this to weak service delivery at the council level, the routine imposition of candidates by political parties, and the limited credibility of state-run electoral commissions. For many citizens, local elections appear disconnected from accountability or tangible improvements in daily life.
Malpractice in plain sight
Beyond voter apathy, HumAngle observed troubling procedural violations at multiple polling units. At a polling unit in Bulama Kachallah II, in Maiduguri, HumAngle observed electoral officials stamping ballot papers and depositing them into the ballot box in the absence of voters. This continued between 9:00 a.m. and 1:00 p.m., when we left the unit.
A similar scene played out at another polling unit in nearby Bulama Kachallah I. BOSIEC officials wearing identification tags, alongside unidentified individuals, openly filled out ballot papers and inserted them into the boxes.
When approached, a party agent who was present at the scene told HumAngle, “Ba ruwan ka,” meaning, “It is none of your business.”
A group of young men were seen stamping on ballot papers at a polling unit in Maiduguri. Photo: Abubakar Muktar Abba/HumAngle.
Despite these irregularities, BOSIEC Chairperson Tahiru Shettima maintained that the process met democratic standards. “I think the commission has done its best and the election was free, fair, inclusive, and transparent,” he said.
Two days after the exercise, BOSIEC announced that the ruling APC won all 27 chairpersonship seats in the state. The election was contested by six political parties, including the New Nigeria People’s Party, Social Democratic Party, Labour Party, and People’s Redemption Party.
Notably absent was the Peoples’ Democratic Party (PDP), the state’s leading opposition force. In the days leading up to the election, the PDP formally boycotted the process, citing concerns about the legitimacy and fairness of the electoral process, the high costs associated with the expression-of-interest and nomination forms, and a lack of trust in BOSIEC’s capacity to conduct credible elections.
The African Democratic Congress (ADC), a national opposition coalition, was also missing from the ballot. A member of the party, who asked not to be named, claimed that “the state government had been a big challenge”. He said that when the party attempted to launch its Borno State chapter in November, security operatives disrupted the event, alleging that the government had not been notified. According to him, this interference contributed to the ADC’s absence from the December local council election.
The electoral commission rejected these criticisms. Shettima said BOSIEC had consulted with stakeholders, including political parties, on logistics and nomination fees, and insisted that participation was voluntary. “We cannot force any political party to take part in the election,” he told journalists.
Public reactions on social media, meanwhile, suggested a contrasting reality to official claims. Tanko Wabba, a Facebook user, wrote: “We didn’t see the election [ballot] box in our street,” reflecting frustration over missing polling units and highlighting a gap between official claims and citizens’ experiences.
Weakened local governance
For more than a decade, local council elections were not held in Borno State due to the Boko Haram insurgency. During that period, councils were administered by caretaker committees appointed by the state government. Elections resumed in 2020, with another round held in January 2024.
While those elections were described by the media as largely peaceful, turnout was characterised as average at best. Analysts cited voter fatigue, lingering security concerns, and persistent doubts about the relevance and autonomy of local councils.
Under Nigeria’s Constitution, local governments constitute the third tier of government, operating under the state’s supervision. Democratically elected councils are mandated to manage basic services such as roads, markets, sanitation, health clinics, business and vehicle licensing, local fees, education, and support for agriculture and health in coordination with the state.
Executive authority at the local level rests with the chairperson and vice chairperson, who implement council policies through supervisory councillors and the civil service. In practice, however, councils often have limited autonomy. State governments frequently override their authority by appointing caretaker committees—often ruling party loyalists—and retaining control of local government finances through joint state–local government accounts.
Autonomy debates and unresolved tensions
In July 2024, Nigeria’s Supreme Court ordered that allocations from the federation account meant for local governments must be disbursed to them directly, rather than the joint account created by the state government. The court restrained governors from collecting, withholding, or tampering with these funds, declaring such actions unconstitutional, null, and void.
The Minister of State for Defence, Bello Mohammed Matawalle, welcomed the ruling, saying it would allow local governments to manage their own finances, strengthen accountability to voters, and improve service delivery and development.
However, the Nigerian Governors’ Forum opposed the decision. The governors argued that full local government autonomy does not align with Nigeria’s federal structure and said the ruling failed to address longstanding issues of weak administration and executive excesses at the council level.
“The desire for decentralisation must be backed by a commitment to delegate resources, power, and tasks to local-level governance structures that are democratic and largely independent of central government,” said Victor Adetula, a Professor of Political Science at the University of Jos.
Against this backdrop of contested authority and fragile credibility, the conduct of Borno’s local government elections raises deeper questions—not just about electoral integrity, but about whether local democracy in the state can meaningfully deliver the governance and development it promises.
Kolo Askumto sits on a small mat outside her makeshift shelter, a shawl draped around her shoulders for warmth. Her eyes remain fixed on the farmland ahead, not out of desire but necessity. Rows of guinea corn and beans stretch into the darkness. While she scans the fields, careful not to blink for too long, her ears strain at every unfamiliar rustling of leaves.
It is midnight, and Kolo is at the Lainde fields in Mayo-Ine, a community in Fufore Local Government Area of Adamawa State, in North East Nigeria.
The 55-year-old has been living on her farm during every harvest season for the past three years. Before 2022, guarding her ripe beans or guinea corn was never a concern. That changed when thieves began invading their fields at night, carting away crops — sometimes even those already harvested and packed, waiting to be transported home.
Kolo lives with her family at the Malkhohi displacement camp in Yola, the state capital. She managed to secure farmland in Lainde after fleeing Madagali in Borno State due to Boko Haram attacks. Since 2016, subsistence farming has helped her support her husband in providing for their family.
This year, Kolo has slept on her farm for more than two weeks. Every night, she spreads her blanket on her mat, switches on her torch, and scans her surroundings like an owl. When the night deepens, she retreats to her thatched tent but barely blinks while she’s there.
Kolo’s thatched tent at the Lainde fields in northeastern Nigeria. Photo: HumAngle.
She is not the only one keeping watch. The isolation of the area adds to the danger. Located on the outskirts of the Mayo-Ine area, Lainde lie far from residential settlements, with only a few people living there permanently. There is no police station nearby, farmers said, except in the main village several kilometres away, leaving those who sleep on the fields largely on their own through the night.
The vigil
Every night, several farmers keep watch across open fields. Some sit in small groups, whispering as they stay awake until dawn. At sunrise, some resume their harvest, while others head home to return by evening for the night shift. The women mostly stick together.
To stay awake, the farmers told HumAngle that they drink herbal concoctions believed to chase sleep from their eyes. Sometimes, they light a fire and huddle around it for warmth.
“We pray that God should protect us before we sleep, but we wake up to every sound we hear,” Kolo said.
Though the vigil has helped keep her farm safe this year, fear still lingers. Two years ago, criminals struck in the dead of night and stole all the grains she had packed in sacks. She was not physically harmed, but the memory of that night has never left her. Since then, she sleeps with a machete by her side.
Unlike some women who return home during the day to rest, Kolo plans to remain on the farm for nearly a month — until the crops are fully harvested. The journey from the IDP camp is long and exhausting. “If we are to trek before we get here, we will be tired, and we will not have enough strength to work,” Kolo said. It takes about an hour to reach Lainde from Yola by tricycle, and much longer on foot.
While she has not encountered any security problems this year, she fears she might encounter the same group that robbed her the last time. However, Kolo says she is willing to go to any length to protect her farm. “If we don’t sleep here, we can lose everything,” she said.
“We can’t afford to pay”
Not every farmer in Lainde stays on the field all night. Some pay guards, mostly young men, to keep watch on their behalf. It costs around ₦60,000 to ₦70,000 monthly. In some cases, the guards are paid with a bag or two of harvested crops.
For many women, that option is simply out of reach. “We have to buy fertilisers, herbicides, and other inputs,” Kolo explained. “There is nothing left to pay guards.”
Elizabeth Joseph has farmed maize, groundnuts, and beans in the Lainde fields for three years. Every harvest season, she says, comes with anxiety. Once, she harvested several bags of beans and left them in the field while she went to find transport. When she returned, everything was gone. Not even a single grain remained.
Bags of harvested maize in Lainde field await transportation. Photo: HumAngle
In 2024, a bag of beans sold for between ₦110,000 and ₦130,000, while a bag of maize cost about ₦60,000; losing even a few bags can undo months of back-breaking work for these small-scale farmers. That loss left her with little choice but to keep watch herself.
But the vigil is exhausting.
“If I have money, I won’t have to come to the farm. I will just assign labourers to do the work for me, and I will just come during the harvest season. I will even pay those who will harvest, and there won’t be any stress, but since I don’t have the money, I have to come and guard myself,” Elizabeth added.
Although her husband could sleep on the farm while she managed the household, they switched roles. According to Elizabeth, men are more likely to be attacked or killed by thieves at night. Her fear is not unfounded.
Recently, in Bare, another community in Adamawa State, twelve young men working on a farm at night were attacked; three of them were killed. Even on the Lainde fields, such attacks that claimed lives have occurred.
Such thefts are not isolated to Lainde or Bare. Across the BAY states — Borno, Adamawa, and Yobe — farmers have repeatedly reported nighttime farm thefts and attacks during harvest seasons. Communities continue to call on authorities to address the insecurity, saying the losses threaten their livelihoods and food supply.
These threats compound the vulnerability of rural communities to hunger and poverty. Nearly 35 million people in Nigeria, particularly in the BAY states, are facing acute food insecurity, according to the World Food Programme. Displacement, rising food prices, and ongoing violence have further worsened the risk of malnutrition in the region.
Living with danger
However, the robbers are not the only thing farmers are afraid of; they face other threats such as snakes, scorpions, cold weather, and isolation.
Zara Abba, who began farming in Lainde in 2023, said the environment becomes frightening after sunset. “By 7 p.m., everywhere looks like it is midnight; the whole place gets dark,” she stated.
Like Kolo and Elizabeth, Zara cannot afford night guards. A mother of four, she brings her children to the farm and lives with them in a thatched tent. At night, the children sleep while she stays awake, watching the fields.
Zara said the women had once raised their concerns with the community leader, hoping for intervention or improved security. But nothing changed.
Zara Abba and her family will stay on the Lainde field for a month before returning home with their harvest. Photo: HumAngle
“If I could afford guards, I would stay home with my children,” she said. “But I don’t have a choice.” She carries gallons of water, cooking utensils, and clothes, staying on the farm for nearly a month until the harvest is complete.
“The other women, too, have been sleeping here for a long time,” she said. “We decided to come here because if we don’t, we will lose our harvest.”
As someone who has lost her ripened crops to thieves in the past, Zara says she does not mind living on the open field with her four children, where she can keep an eye on all of them.
While they continue to find ways to adapt, the women who spoke to HumAngle said staying on the fields has impacted their other responsibilities, especially for those who can’t bring their children to the open fields. “When coming to sleep here, we leave the children at home and make sure we give them food that would sustain them with the older ones who take care of them before we get back,” Kolo said.
Though the routine has become familiar, it remains exhausting.
“The nights are harsh, and sometimes we feel like not selling our farm produce because of the suffering, but we end up selling it at a cheaper price sometimes,” Elizabeth lamented. The exposure often leaves them with flu. “Every harvest season comes with its stress.”
Elizabeth is also frightened by snakes and scorpions; people have been bitten in the fields in the past. To protect herself, she keeps a machete by her side.
As the harvest season draws to a close, the women of Lainde fields look forward to when they can return home, carrying the fruits of both their labour and sleepless nights. Yet even as they prepare to leave, another harvest season will come, and they will be forced to face long nights under open skies again.