North-West

On 15 different occasions, terrorists trailing Amiru Bala failed to capture him. They succeeded on their 16th attempt in the Tsafe area of Zamfara State, northwestern Nigeria. 

Amiru, whose locality is boiling with rural terrorists turning towns and villages into hell, is revered for providing effective, yet affordable medical care to residents of the Bakin Manya village in Tsafe and is praised for compassionately treating his patients.

In his village, criminal actors have metamorphosed into killing, kidnapping, and maiming residents at will. For more than a decade, security forces have tried but failed to rein in attacks on civilians, causing distrust between locals and state authorities. 

Life in Bakin Manya is hard, residents said. Nobody trusts anybody; many young people within the local community have joined the bandwagon of terrorists killing for fun and kidnapping for ransom. Amid this devastating development, the health system in the rural villages is debilitating, with clinics and hospitals running out of drugs, staff, and patients.

“Our life is threatened, our peace is lost, and our homes are broken,” Amiru cried, as he spoke to HumAngle after regaining his freedom. “Our neighbours turned into sworn enemies. Many among them do not understand why they were subconsciously lured into rural terrorism by their kinsmen, harrowing as their enslaved masters.” 

Amiru said he grew up in an indigent family. At 10, he was inspired to go to school after seeing a team of health workers conducting house-to-house vaccination. It took him over a year to appeal to his father to enrol him in the village primary school. He finally gained admission into the Chediya Primary School when he was 11. After completing his primary education, he proceeded to the Government Science Secondary School in Tsafe, where his interest in science and health grew rapidly.

He later secured admission into College of Health Science and Technology, Tsafe, and graduated as a Senior Community Health Extension Worker after two years of study. Amiru returned to Bakin Manya to focus on providing medical care for villagers and organising campaigns against seasonal diseases.

As medical needs grew within the community, more villagers knocked on his door. He would soon become popular within and outside his community.

Amiru said he advised the village leadership to sponsor the medical needs of some of the community members, but his hope was thwarted when terrorists took over the governance of the village. Rural terrorism has taken a toll on the people, with criminals operating without hindrance.

“Today, as I speak, there are no vehicle movements; not even a bicycle would dare or try passing through the entire northern parts of Chediya Ward, which is just 5-6 kilometres away from the Tsafe local government headquarters,” he lamented.

Life became even harder when terror groups in Tsafe decided to take total control of Chediya, including Amiru’s village. They divided the ward into two: The Chediya North and South. One terrorist leader, Kachalla Musa, first tried to subjugate 14 communities in Chediya North but failed, calling the locals “irredeemably bad people” because they refused to be submissive or negotiate with him. Kabiru Adamu, the Chediya district head, said life has been miserable for his people since they refused to adhere to the demands of the terrorists. For at least five years, they have been under incessant attacks.

“Two different gangs loyal to Ado Aleru and his kinsmen, Hassan Nabamamu and Kachalla Saidu, came together recently to launch a weeklong attack on our communities. Their mission was to displace all of us. In that attack, there were 35 people killed, 29 abducted; they ransacked houses and shops where they looted,” Kabiru recounted. 

Amid escalating chaos, the community faced a difficult predicament beyond their resilience. As state authorities failed to offer assistance against the terrorists, they were left with no choice but to negotiate. About 300 individuals were forced into manual labour on the terrorists’ farms, as part of the so-called peace deal. The community paid millions of naira to gang leader Ado through his agent, Musa Kwamanda, but locals still live in fear. 

In Chediya South, locals have totally succumbed to the antics of terrorists, allowing them to operate freely in exchange for their freedom. Since they entered into the peace deal with Ado’s gang in February 2025, they said they had not experienced any major attack or abduction.

“We eat together and spend most of the night with the terrorists at our homes. Our farmlands are free for us, travel to Gusau and Tsafe towns and safely return at any time,” said Mamman Dirmi, the village monarch of Chediya South. “Our matrimonial beds are shared with the armed terrorists, especially the young boys among them. Although we reported to Ado, asking for his intervention, nothing seems to have changed for the better.” 

Despite adhering to the terrorists’ rules and regulations, however, residents in the Chediya North told HumAngle that things became even tougher. The terrorists have taken over the main road to the community, extorting travellers and raping women and girls indiscriminately.

Abducted to treat terrorists

When they fall ill or are wounded by gunshots, terrorists are usually wary of visiting health facilities within the Tsafe area. The criminal gang came up with a plan to abduct a health worker to treat their injured fighters. Amiru was the prime target, being the most popular health worker in the axis.

After multiple attempts, a gang of five terrorists invaded Amiru’s house in November 2025. Among them, two were armed with guns that slung over their shoulders. They called out his name from outside the door, demanding that he come out peacefully; they threatened that if he refused, they would shoot him and his wife. Faced with the frightening threat, he reluctantly opened the door and stepped outside. 

One of the invaders locked eyes with him and declared that their mission was a simple abduction: he would be taken to their camp for a few days before ultimately being released.

Amiru quickly realised the terrorists were possibly abducting him because they needed medical treatment for either their wounded members or sick ones, or both. “They chained, placed a gun at my wife’s head and smuggled me out at gunpoint,”  he recalled. 

He was overpowered and placed on a motorcycle, leaving his wife and relatives panicking. Later, one of the motorcycles, which carried three terrorists with guns, went far ahead of Amiru and his captors. Amiru sat tightly chained in the centre of the motorcycle, his heart racing as he assessed his precarious situation. In front of him, the motorcycle’s rider leaned forward, oblivious to the tension mounting behind them. At Amiru’s back, another terrorist gripped a gun against his spine. 

Despite the daunting presence of his captor, Amiru’s resolve hardened. He realised he could shake the moving motorcycle free from their control. With iron chains cutting painfully into his skin, he felt the limited but crucial freedom offered by the loose straps across his lap. The rail track whizzed by, a blur of danger and opportunity. Amiru knew that if he could just muster his strength, he might fight back, even in chains, to reclaim his freedom and thwart the terrorists’ plans. The stakes were high, but so was his determination.

“We all fell down, the rider could not move an inch as he kissed the ground with the vehicle’s headlight cover marching his chest. The other terrorist ran away after I knocked his head with the chain and was bleeding helplessly,” Amiru said, describing how he escaped about two hours after he was abducted. “I returned home, and there was huge jubilation across the community, breaking the news of my narrow escape. My father insisted that my wife and I flee our village. The news of my abduction jittered many informants, and the terrorists will likely return again.” 

Fearing reprisal attacks on his people, Amiru said he did not inform any local or state authority about the issue. In the past, those who reported such incidents later regretted it– the terrorists often imposed severe penalties on villagers after security operatives had withdrawn.

Struggling to rebuild life

Amiru fled his home, abandoned his work, and resettled in another town. His life transformed from that of a village health worker to that of a beggar. “As an IDP, my wife and I suffered from insufficient food, hardly getting three square meals a day. I left my father in the village, and he needs my help, but we are all helpless,” he complained.

The few residents who remained in the village were nearly subdued by the relentless attacks. Silence became their daily refuge in an unsettled peace. Whenever community protection guards or soldiers arrived to secure the area, terrorists would accuse the residents of inviting them. At one point, they no longer wanted to see government security forces visiting their communities, as these visits only brought unending humiliation and infringed upon their freedom of movement.

“I am declared wanted and hunted by the terrorists loyal to Ado Aleru’s faction, led by Hassan. He orchestrated an operation with his armed men – Dankaura, Ofisa, Aljan, and Dankabiru – that resulted in the death of 36 innocent farmers. I was not present during the attack, so I escaped and fled my home,” Amiru recounted.

“There came another group of targeted attackers to my home, led by the kingpins Dan-Najeriya and Na-Bello. They ransacked many houses searching for me, but they had no idea I was hiding inside the silos they passed by. It felt like hell that day. I still feel inexplicably nervous and shattered, with the sounds of gunfire echoing in my mind like thunder. Their desperation is such that they want me to go to their camp to treat their terrorists.” 

Amiru vowed never to provide medical treatment to terrorists, insisting that he did not go to school to treat killers. 

A bowl of leftover pap saved Audu Gimba* from being abducted, but his wife, children, and relatives were not as fortunate. 

On Jan. 18, Audu’s family found their way to the Cherubim & Seraphim (C&S) Movement Church, Number 2, Kurmin Wali, Kaduna State, northwestern Nigeria, like they do every Sunday morning. Around 10:30 a.m., warning cries interrupted their service.

Terrorists had surrounded Kurmin Wali from all angles, unleashing their horrors on the worshippers of C & S 1 and 2 and the Evangelical Church Winning All (ECWA) Church in the same community. They would later make away with 177 people in total, according to Audu and some media reports. 

“We tried to run out but discovered we were surrounded. Even if you run, they chase you down,” he recalled the horrors of that morning. He said the terrorists were also collecting phones and cash from the victims. Before they got to him, he threw his phone into the bushes, planning to retrieve it after he escaped. 

The terrorists divided the captives into batches, with Audu and four others placed at the front. 

“As we were walking, I saw one of my brothers being beaten by the terrorists. They demanded that he get them food from his house. He told them he only had leftover pap, and when he brought it to them, their attention shifted to it, including the terrorists holding us hostage. When I noticed that, I used that opportunity to run and hide, but the rest were taken into the forest,” he told HumAngle. 

From his hiding spot, Audu watched as the terrorists brought out the remaining church members who had been hiding, made them lie on the ground, and then herded them into the forest. 

“The terrorists were holding guns, which were similar to the ones soldiers use,” he told HumAngle. “All of them had weapons. They came out through three angles; even if you run, you will run into them from all angles.” Although no one was shot, the presence of the firearms and the terrorists’ known ruthlessness were enough to force the villagers into submission. They wore no masks, and the survivors who spoke to HumAngle said they did not recognise them as familiar faces.

They came in through the forest and returned through the same path, this time with unwilling villagers, leaving behind a trail of fear and heartbreak. 

“My in-laws and two other women were heavily pregnant. My second wife and another in-law had daughters under two years old. My daughter was one year and two months old, and my three sons and their wives were all taken away into the forest. The children are not even old enough to walk on their own,” his voice cracked as he named his losses. 

He admitted that revisiting the events of that day makes him want to break down and cry.

It wasn’t just his losses, he said, but also the reaction of the military, those meant to protect them, that further pushed him into despair.

“The day the soldiers arrived, we told them the path they followed. When one of my brothers insisted on showing them the way, one of the soldiers even threatened to slap him. I don’t think any soldiers walked for 10 minutes between the village and the forest. They just stood there watching us,” he lamented. 

Security officials first dismissed the attack as a falsehood spread to cause chaos, only to later confirm it. The Kaduna State Governor, Uba Sani, said the reason for the denial was “to confirm details first before making any statements”. 

“We need help,” Audu cried. “We don’t have anything to do unless the government helps us. What can I possibly do to help them come out? It’s just my wife and me; they have taken everyone else away.”

A recurring problem 

For the people of Kurmin Wali, this is not the first of such attacks. Eight days earlier, on Jan. 11, another mass abduction of about 21 people occurred. The people were released four days later, only after a ransom of ₦2.6 million was paid, according to another villager, Moses Noma*. 

Attacks on the village remain largely underreported. Online searches for Kurmin Wali mostly return reports of the most recent abduction, belatedly drawing attention to yet another community Nigeria has failed to protect. 

Moses escaped the latest attack, but his family had been directly affected by the previous one. The incident occurred at night. 

“They entered my house and my brother’s house,” he recounted. “Twelve people from my family were kidnapped. I barely escaped with my wife. When I returned, I heard my mum crying. She had been badly beaten with metal and was injured. I picked her up along with my injured uncle and took them to the hospital.”

When Moses arrived, his mother was in a pool of her blood. He thinks the kidnappers must have assumed she died due to how badly she was bleeding. Even when he heard her cries, he hid until he was sure the terrorists had gone before he went to her side. Fortunately, her injuries were treatable, and she was able to return to her family. 

Usually, when attacks like this occur, residents say they report them to military personnel stationed along nearby roads. However, soldiers often arrive late, if at all, and little is done until kidnappers demand ransom and eventually release victims on their own. In some cases, soldiers show up a day after the attack, claiming they did not receive permission to respond earlier, residents said. 

“Even as we speak, we are currently patrolling the streets because no security forces have been dispatched,” the 30-year-old man explained a week after the attack, despite the governor’s visit four days earlier. 

According to Moses, the village has been under constant threats and attacks for about three years. “Even in February last year, they came and kidnapped people,” he noted.

After such attacks, some residents flee to other parts of Kaduna, such as Marraraban Kajuru, Kasuwan Magani, and neighbouring towns, and return after some time. Moses, like others, usually finds his way back home, but the terror never stops. 

Government intervention? 

James Kura* says it was the stars that guided him home that night. 

“We were in church. We stationed some people outside to ensure security. When they saw them coming, they raised an alarm. We ran out, but soon discovered they had circled us. They put us together and collected all our money and phones in front of the church. Then they started to march us into the forest,” he narrated. 

At one point, the terrorists stopped and started to beat them heavily with sticks before continuing with the march. James was injured during the assault. 

They later arrived at Sabon Gida, a nearby village that has been deserted due to the constant terror attacks, one of the many ghost communities in Kaduna State. Some captives managed to escape there. But it was much later that James found the chance. 

“I noticed I was lagging behind and the kidnappers were distracted, so I used that opportunity to hide somewhere in the bushes until they left. I started to walk into the forest and eventually found my way home by following the stars,” he recalled. James got home around 9 p.m. that night. 

Despite his escape, many of his relatives and friends remain in captivity.

James and ten other escapees were taken to Barau Dikko Teaching Hospital in Kaduna town on Jan. 23, following the governor’s visit. Before then, James had tried to treat his injuries at a chemist’s shop in the village.

The hospital’s Chief Medical Director, Abdulqadir Musa, said the victims would receive maximum care and attention and would “leave the hospital smiling”.

Even so, this was not the first time James had been kidnapped. In 2021, he was abducted from his home and held captive for days, and the horrors of that experience fueled his determination to escape repeating it. 

“They demanded a ransom of ₦1 million then, and they demanded other items like phones, which amounted to almost ₦200,000 extra,” he recalled. 

Although the current ransom demand has not been formally communicated, James told HumAngle that the kidnappers are demanding 17 motorcycles, which they claimed were left behind after the attack. Residents say only three were found, some of them already stripped of parts such as headlights. 

A separate report corroborates James’ account, adding that ₦250 million and three more motorcycles, bringing the total to 20, have been demanded by the terrorists. 

For a community already struggling to survive, residents say such demands are difficult to meet. The  Kaduna State government has said it will work with security operatives to ensure the victims are rescued unhurt. 

“We have been collaborating with the relevant security agencies, both the military, the DSS, the police, and the Office of National Security Adviser, to ensure the quick return and recovery of our people that were abducted in this very important community,’’ Uba Sani said during his visit to Kurmin Wali. 

The fear of the future 

Survivors like James are worried and concerned about their future security, the fate of their loved ones who are still in captivity, and the ransoms they may be forced to pay. 

Nigeria has criminalised ransom payments, with violators facing at least 15 years in prison. Yet kidnapping continues to surge nationwide, with few successful rescue operations, leaving families with little choice. 

On social media, people, including former top government officials, have crowdfunded for ransom. About ₦2.23 trillion in ransom payments was made between May 2023 and April 2024 in Nigeria, according to the National Bureau of Statistics. 

“When the governor visited, he promised he would bring us security. The government is taking care of our hospital bills and feeding. But in addition to that, the most important thing we need now is financial support because we know we would have to pay ransom,” he added. 

As for tightened security in the village, Audu said some military officials were stationed in front of their church during their morning service on Jan. 25. However, they are unaware of any action or movement to retrieve their loved ones, whose situation remains unknown. 

*Names marked with an asterisk are pseudonyms we’ve used to protect the identities of those interviewed.