By Malik Samuel
Nigeria’s worsening security crisis is forcing federal and state authorities to experiment with solutions that would once have appeared unlikely. One of the most striking is the recruitment and deployment of former Boko Haram members from the Northeast to support efforts against bandits and jihadist groups in Northwest and Northcentral Nigeria.
Interviews with former Boko Haram members involved in these deployments reveal that some have been deployed to Niger and Zamfara states, while others have been sent to Kaduna, Kebbi, Sokoto, Katsina, and the Federal Capital Territory. According to those interviewed, the State Security Services (SSS), Nigeria’s foremost intelligence agency, plays an important role in the recruitment and deployment of these former Boko Haram members.
“SSS spoke to our community leaders,” a former Jama’atu Ahlis Sunna Lidda’awati wal-Jihad (JAS) fighter deployed to Zamfara explained. “They said we should come here to help our fellow Muslims who were facing insecurity.” Others currently deployed in Katsina, Kebbi and Niger states, as well as those previously deployed to Sokoto, gave Good Governance Africa similar accounts: they were initially contacted through their community leaders before the SSS took over the recruitment process.
Though this has reportedly gone on for more than three years, the arrangement remains largely outside public discussion, and its precise command, vetting and accountability structures are unclear. Yet it points to an important development in Nigeria’s response to insecurity: the state is converting some of the experience accumulated during more than 15 years of fighting Boko Haram into an asset for confronting emerging threats elsewhere.
This is occurring at a particularly difficult moment. Nigerian security forces are overstretched across multiple theatres. The military continues to confront the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) and JAS in the Northeast while simultaneously participating in operations against bandits and jihadists across Northcentral and Northwest Nigeria, with the Southwest also increasingly manifesting vulnerabilities from threats from these regions.
“It is impossible for us (security forces) to deploy to every community in the country. It is unimaginable that any security agency has that resource to do it,” The SSS Director General, Oluwatosin Ajayi, stated in 2025, while encouraging community leaders to reach out to the Service for ‘approval and guidance’ on arming their communities to serve as the ‘first line of defence’ against nonstate armed actors.
State and local governments confronted with persistent attacks, kidnapping and rural displacement have consequently sought additional manpower through vigilantes, community protection forces and other auxiliary arrangements. The recruitment of former Boko Haram members should be understood partly within this context of necessity.
But these former insurgents bring something that ordinary recruits generally do not: first-hand experience of jihadist warfare.
While this article focuses on former Boko Haram members – individuals who once fought against the state – they are not the only ones recruited for deployment to the Northwest and Northcentral. Rather, they form part of a broader contingent that includes other community-based security actors, such as members of the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF), hunters and vigilantes. Most of those recruited are drawn from Borno, Yobe and Adamawa states, with others coming from Gombe and Bauchi.
An unusual reservoir of experience
Former Boko Haram fighters who have spent years operating in an insurgency may understand ambushes, reconnaissance, concealment, camp organisation, insurgent logistics and small-unit movement. Depending on their former roles, they may also understand improvised explosive devices, intelligence gathering, surveillance, recruitment and the ways armed organisations interact with communities.
This is particularly relevant because the threat in Northwest and Northcentral Nigeria is itself changing.
Banditry remains the dominant form of insecurity across much of the region, especially in the Northwest, but jihadist organisations are becoming increasingly important. In 2026, the Islamic State Sahel Province (ISSP) officially claimed attacks in Kebbi and Sokoto states, its first publicly claimed operations in Nigeria in more than six years.
The wider Benin-Niger-Nigeria borderlands have also become important to both ISSP and al-Qaeda-affiliated Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM). This makes the experience of former Boko Haram members potentially more valuable.
All former fighters interviewed in the regions argued that the threat posed by Boko Haram in the Northeast was considerably greater tactically than the challenge from bandits.
“Boko Haram uses Improvised Explosive Devices, suicide attacks, drones, gun trucks, etc. Boko Haram fighters are not afraid to die. Bandits are not like that. They don’t have the experience and equipment that Boko Haram has. They also don’t want to die, which is why they retreat when faced with more firepower.”
This assessment should not be interpreted as suggesting that bandits are unsophisticated. Many possess military-grade weapons, including anti-aircraft guns, extensive intelligence networks, exceptional knowledge of local terrain, and some have in recent times started using explosive devices. The former Boko Haram members’ argument illustrates the unusual operational background they bring to their new roles as former insurgents.
Local response against a glocal problem?
The experiment also raises a wider policy question at a time when private and foreign military forces have continued to assume prominence in African security, especially in countries dealing with jihadist threats.
Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger – the three members of the Alliance of Sahel States – face many of the same jihadist adversaries now threatening Nigeria. JNIM and ISSP, the major groups threatening the stability of the region, have also extended their footprints to Nigeria.
Yet the strategies being adopted differ significantly.
The AES countries have relied extensively on Russian state-backed Africa Corps, formally known as Wagner. The appeal is understandable. Foreign forces can provide specialist skills, equipment and experienced personnel rapidly.
But they also come with considerable drawback.
The media and civil society organisations have repeatedly documented allegations of human rights violations against Africa Corps personnel, especially in Mali. For instance, in July 2026, Human Rights Watch reported that Africa Corps personnel were involved in unlawful arrest, arbitrary detention and extrajudicial killing of civilians, including women and children, and burning civilian properties. These are not merely human rights concerns. Civilian abuses can become counterinsurgency failures by generating grievances, undermining intelligence cooperation and strengthening jihadist recruitment narratives.
External forces also face the disadvantage of operating in environments they have no understanding of. Language, social relationships, cattle routes, informal economies, local grievances and community allegiances often matter as much in counterinsurgency as weapons and battlefield experience.
The employment of foreign military forces or contractors does not guarantee success, as developments in the Sahel demonstrate. Despite the presence of Russia’s Africa Corps, Mali has continued to face expanding threats from jihadist and separatist groups. In April 2026, coordinated attacks by JNIM and the Tuareg-led Azawad Liberation Front (FLA) resulted in the capture of Kidal, a strategically important northern city. Africa Corps personnel, deployed to protect the city, subsequently withdrew, following a negotiated exit with the groups.
The same offensive exposed the vulnerability of Mali’s security establishment, with defence minister Sadio Camara killed following an attack on his residence in Kati, near Bamako, while other military and strategic locations across the country were targeted.
Nigeria’s approach potentially offers something different. Instead of importing knowledge of irregular warfare, it is repurpose knowledge already accumulated within the country, a lesson that other countries facing similar challenges can learn from.
The Nigerian approach is considerably less expensive than employing foreign military contractors, whose continued involvement may depend on contractual and financial considerations rather than a long-term commitment to the country’s security. Africa Corps personnel in Mali reportedly earn approximately $3,000 per month. Nigeria also reportedly paid similar salaries to South African-led contractors from Specialized Tasks, Training, Equipment and Protection (STTEP), who were engaged to support the fight against Boko Haram in 2015.
By contrast, former Boko Haram members deployed to Northwest and Northcentral Nigeria receive a monthly salary of N70,000 (approximately $53), according to those interviewed and payment details seen by GGA. Their participation is not necessarily motivated by income alone. For some, it also offers an opportunity to demonstrate their disengagement from Boko Haram, make amends for their past involvement and build a new life through service to communities threatened by armed violence.
Nigeria’s lingering and worsening insecurity has led to calls, including by a lawmaker, for the employment of PMCs. During the #EndBadGovernance protests, Russian flags were openly displayed by protesters in Kano, Northwest Nigeria, with protesters calling for Russia’s help. Given Nigeria’s close cultural and familial ties with Niger Republic, propaganda surrounding Russia’s involvement in the Sahel easily finds its way to Northwest Nigeria. Northern Nigerian influencers have also been targeted to support pro-Russia narratives in the Sahel.
The Southwest is also not immune to information that glorifies military juntas in the Sahel and exaggerates foreign military intervention.
A foreign contractor may have experience fighting jihadists, but a former Boko Haram member may have experienced the conflict from inside a jihadist organisation.
Someone who survived for years inside Boko Haram does not merely know how to shoot. He may know how an insurgent thinks. That is a fundamentally different form of knowledge.
Promising, but dangerous if poorly managed
So far, respondents and communities have reported no major negative incidents involving the deployed personnel. This has probably contributed to why their involvement has not generated public concern nationwide.
The men interviewed described the development of strong relationships with host communities. In many locations, they are among the first responders when bandits or jihadists attack. They also escort farmers to and from their farms and provide security during social events, including weddings and religious and cultural festivals. Communities claim that their presence has a deterrent effect on bandits, who regard them as tough opponents because of their willingness to stand their ground during attacks.
To prevent prolonged deployment in one location from fostering complacency or excessive familiarity with the local environment, personnel are rotated both within and between states. All those interviewed said they had previously served in at least two other locations before their current deployments, while some were awaiting further rotation at the time of the interviews.
None of this means Nigeria should begin recruiting former Boko Haram members on a large scale. The approach carries substantial risks.
Former insurgents could return to extremist organisations. They could infiltrate security structures, divert weapons, abuse civilians or use their new positions to settle personal disputes, including against the state.
Some of these risks have already materialised in the Northeast, particularly in Borno State, where some former fighters have returned or threatened to return to insurgent groups amid shortcomings in the management of their disengagement and reintegration. Some, who were recruited and armed to help security forces combat Boko Haram fled back to the bush with the rifles issued to them.
This perhaps explains why the SSS maintains close oversight over these recruits in the Northwest and Northcentral.
Each unit has a senior member known as “discipline master”, responsible for maintaining discipline within the group. The discipline masters’ mandates reportedly extend to spouses and families of the deployed men, including commanders. Sanctions for infractions range from reprimands and detention to outright dismissal and return to the individual’s state of origin.
Turning experience of conflict into a security resource
The deployment of former Boko Haram members to Northwest and Northcentral Nigeria should therefore neither be romanticised nor dismissed.
It is best understood as an experiment produced by necessity.
Nigeria is in its 17th year of acquiring painful experience in fighting jihadism. Some of that knowledge resides within the military and intelligence services. But some also resides among those who once fought against the state.
Carefully screened former insurgents can potentially provide manpower, local familiarity and insights into irregular warfare while gaining employment and an opportunity to build lives outside jihadist organisations.
If the model proves effective, it could offer an important lesson for Nigeria and the wider Sahel: countries facing insurgency do not always need to choose between overstretched national forces and expensive foreign military assistance.
There may be a third option – finding ways to transform knowledge produced by conflict into a resource for ending it.
The objective should not be to replace professional soldiers and police officers with former Boko Haram fighters. Nor should participation in security operations become a substitute for accountability.
Rather, Nigeria should determine whether carefully selected former combatants whose disengagement is credible can be integrated into tightly regulated auxiliary structures where their knowledge has genuine operational value.
The former fighters interviewed for this article have already moved through an extraordinary trajectory: from Boko Haram in the Northeast to fighting armed groups hundreds of kilometres away in Northwest and Northcentral Nigeria. Some of the men who made that journey with them have been killed doing so.
Their experience raises an uncomfortable but increasingly relevant question.
Can people who once contributed to Nigeria’s insecurity become part of the solution to it?
Under the right conditions, the answer may be yes.
