Northern Nigeria

Dr Ebenezer Obadare, a Senior Fellow for Africa Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR), recently testified before a joint briefing of the United States Congress on the security crisis in Nigeria. Given CFR’s extraordinary influence on U.S. foreign policy, as its analysts brief the Congress, the State Department, and the White House, the accuracy and balance of Dr Obadare’s testimony matter significantly.

At the briefing, U.S. lawmakers and witnesses made one demand that every responsible Nigerian, Muslim or Christian, would be happy with: that Nigeria must disarm armed militias and prosecute attackers. The renewed commitment we are now seeing from the Nigerian government, including airstrikes against armed militias, the planned police and military recruitment, and the declaration of a national security emergency are all a response to the mounting U.S. pressure. On this point, American engagement has been productive.

However, Dr Obadare went far beyond the reasonable. After acknowledging the recent steps taken by President Tinubu, he nevertheless insisted that “Washington must keep up the pressure.” To him, U.S. leverage should not only be used to combat Boko Haram but to pressure the Nigerian president to abolish Sharia criminal law in twelve northern states and disband Hisbah commissions across the northern region. This framing is problematic on several counts.

First, it portrays Nigeria not as a sovereign state but as a dependent client whose legal and cultural system must be restructured via external coercion. This is not only intellectually careless; it is politically reckless. Nigeria’s constitutional debates, including the place of Sharia within a federal arrangement, cannot be resolved through directives from Washington. These are matters rooted in decades of negotiation, legal precedent, historical realities, and democratic choice. Such complexity cannot be wished away by foreign pressure or reduced to simplistic talking points about religious persecution. Sharia was introduced between 1999 and 2001 through public consultation and mass popular demand by the local citizens in northern Nigeria, who are Muslims. Subsequently, it was formalised and enacted into law by the various State Houses of Assembly.

Second, Obadare’s argument misdiagnoses the root causes of violence in the north. Boko Haram and ISWAP do not derive their ideology from the Sharia systems implemented by northern states since 1999. In fact, Boko Haram explicitly rejects these systems as insufficient, impure, and corrupted by democracy. They consider northern governors apostates precisely because they operate within a secular constitution. The group’s origins lie in violent extremism, socio-economic marginalisation, and the 2009 extrajudicial killing of the group’s founder, Mohammed Yusuf. It has nothing to do with the Sharia framework implemented by the twelve northern states. In fact, Boko Haram rejects and condemns these state Sharia systems as illegitimate, and this is why the majority of their victims are Muslims themselves. 

It is therefore analytically false to imply that Sharia criminal law fuels this insurgency. This narrative does not withstand even a basic historical timeline. The Maitatsine insurgency of the 1970s, whose ideology and violence closely resemble Boko Haram, predated the introduction of Sharia in the early 2000s by decades. To frame Sharia as the catalyst of terrorism is therefore a misreading of history and to locate causality where it does not exist.

Third, the call to disband Hisbah groups ignores their actual function and constitution. Hisbah institutions are state-established moral enforcement agencies regulated by local laws. They are not terrorist actors, militias, or insurgent organisations. They are contrary to Dr Obadare’s claims that they “impose extremist ideology, enforce forced conversions, and operate with near-total impunity.” These assertions either misrepresent the facts to unfairly tarnish their reputation or reflect intellectual laziness that risks misleading American policymakers. In doing so, they also demonise millions of peaceful Nigerian Muslims who regard Sharia as a legitimate component of their cultural and moral identity.

Finally, Dr Obadare’s testimony, intentionally or not, reinforces a narrative in Washington that sees Nigeria’s crisis primarily through the lens of religious conflict rather than the multi-dimensional reality it is, that is, a mixture of terrorism, banditry, state failure, local grievances, arms proliferation, and climate-driven resource conflicts in the form of farmer-herder crisis. Oversimplification of this serious problem does not aid victims. It distorts U.S. policy and encourages punitive measures that could destabilise fragile communities further and restrict the fundamental rights of millions of Muslims to exercise their faith and adhere to the guidance of Shari’a in their personal and communal lives. 

Nigeria faces serious security challenges amid years of leadership neglect. We genuinely need pressure to put the leaders on their toes, but not the kind rooted in calculated distortion. There is a need for leadership accountability, but not at the expense of Nigeria’s sovereignty. And we need a partnership with the United States in the areas of intelligence gathering, military capabilities and a mutually beneficial partnership. 

The United States should not base its engagement on flawed analyses made by experts such as Dr Ebenezer Obadare, which risk misrepresenting Nigeria’s realities, undermining local institutions, and prescribing solutions that could exacerbate rather than resolve the country’s complex security challenges. Partnering with the Nigerian government enables a tailor-made approach to effectively address these challenges, rather than relying on experts who have long been out of touch with Nigerian realities beyond what they read in media reports.

The Nigerian state must do more, no doubt. But analysts like Dr Obadare must also do better. Nigeria deserves policy analysis grounded in accuracy, proportionality, and respect for the complexities of a plural society; not sweeping prescriptions that collapse constitutional debate into counterterrorism and treat millions of northern Muslims as collateral in the process.

Ibrahiym A. El-Caleel writes from Nigeria and can be reached at caleel2009@gmail.com.

By Mallam Shamsuddeen Suleiman Kibiya

In the long and complex story of Islam in Nigeria, the tension between Salafi reformists and Sufi traditionalists has never been merely a clash of doctrines. It is, more often than we care to admit, a clash of tempers—of the tone one uses, the suspicion one bears, and the verdict one passes on those who practice religion a bit differently. What should have remained a quiet intellectual disagreement has, over time, metamorphosed into an extremism that thrives not on knowledge but on rhetoric.

When Dr Idris Abdulaziz Dutsen Tanshi passed on, the reaction from certain Salafi circles betrayed this peculiar tendency. His admirers saw his death as the painful exit of a righteous man who had lived his life fighting against innovation in religion and straightening the Umma along the path of Tawhid. On the other side, some Sufi-leaning critics responded not with mercy but with long-stored resentment—reminding the public of his “harshness,” his “excessive criticisms,” and his uncompromising, even combative sermons. The atmosphere felt less like the departure of a scholar and more like the settling of old, bitter scores.

And when Shaikh Dahiru Bauchi passed a few days ago, the pattern repeated itself, but this time in reverse. Sufi adherents elevated him beyond scholarship—into sainthood, into miracle, into myth. The outpouring was understandable, but in some corners it crossed into something else: a triumphalism that painted all those who disagreed with his spiritual path as misguided, cold, or spiritually weak. Some Salafi commentators, instead of exercising solemnity, used the moment to revisit old doctrinal disputes—reminding audiences of “bid’ah,” “ghuluw,” and “un-Islamic practices.” Even in death, the walls between both camps seemed eager to echo old hostilities.

What is common to both episodes is that the extremists on either side were saying the same thing without even realising it: that Allah’s mercy is exclusive to their camp; that the Ummah is too big to be shared, but too small to contain disagreement. And this, in its essence, is the extremism of our time—not the extremism of bombs and guns, but the extremism of the tongue.

The Salafi hardliner tends to imagine himself as the last defender of pristine Islam, wielding a vocabulary of denunciation: shirk, bid’ah, dalala, and ghaflah ad infinitum. Every disagreement becomes a deviation, every deviation a threat, and every Sufi becomes a suspect. Meanwhile, the Sufi extremist believes himself to be the custodian of spiritual truth, seeing the Salafi as spiritually blind, stone-hearted literalist, deprived of the inner sweetness of faith and to stretch it even further, an enemy of the beloved prophet SAW himself. Each side constructs a convenient caricature of the other —and then fights that caricature as if it were real.

The danger, however, is that rhetorical extremism does not remain rhetorical over the long run. It shapes communities. It hardens hearts. It turns mosques into enclaves, scholars into partisans and differences into hostilities. What begins as doctrinal rigidity becomes social fragmentation. And what should have been an Ummah becomes a map of feuding camps.

Yet, there is something instructive about how both Dr Idris Abdulaziz and Shaikh Dahiru Bauchi were remembered by their true students—not those who fight for them online, but those who actually sat with them. I mean, their real students, across divides, spoke about their scholarship, humility, discipline, and service. They remembered their knowledge—not their polemics. They recalled their character—not their controversies. This is a reminder that the extremists on both sides, loud as they are, do not represent the whole story.

Nigeria’s Muslim community must now decide what it wishes to inherit from its scholars: the softness of their manners or the sharpness of their debates; their mercy or their anger; their wisdom or their polemics.

To insist that disagreement must lead to division is itself an extremist position. To insist that every scholar must resemble one’s preferred tradition is another. And to pretend that Islam is too fragile to survive multiple approaches is perhaps the greatest of all.

In the end, the Ummah does not collapse because its members disagree. It collapses when disagreement becomes hatred, and hatred finds a pulpit.

May Nigeria’s Muslims learn to argue with knowledge, to differ with dignity, and to remember that Allah, in His infinite mercy, did not create only one path to Him—and certainly not only one temperament.

By Abdullahi Mukhtar Algasgaini

President Bola Tinubu has expressed profound sadness over the death of the revered Islamic leader, Sheikh Dahiru Usman Bauchi, who passed away on Thursday at the age of 101.

In a statement released on Thursday, the President described the late leader of the Tijjaniyya Muslim Brotherhood as a “moral compass” who dedicated his life to teaching and preaching.

President Tinubu stated that Sheikh Bauchi’s loss is monumental not only to his family and followers but also to the entire nation. He recalled the blessings and moral support he received from the cleric during the 2023 presidential election campaign.

“Sheikh Dahiru Bauchi was a teacher, a father and a voice of moderation and reason. As both a preacher and a notable exegete of the Holy Quran, he was an advocate of peace and piety. His death has created a huge void,” the President was quoted as saying.

The President extended his condolences to the Sheikh’s multitude of followers across Nigeria and beyond, urging them to immortalise the late cleric by holding on to his teachings of peaceful coexistence, strengthening their relationship with God, and being kind to humanity.

By Ummi Umar

I write with a broken heart. A heart so bruised it feels shattered. There is no day I open Instagram, X, or WhatsApp without stumbling on another story that tears at the soul, another reminder that insecurity, banditry, and sheer lawlessness have become a constant shadow over this country. It almost never gets better for us.

For weeks now, it has been one tragedy after another. One kidnapping case replaced by the next. Little girls are taken from their schools. Families plunged into fear. We have reached a point where people whisper painful prayers like “may Nigeria never happen to me”, because we have watched the nation turn against its own.

Only last week, schoolgirls in Kebbi were abducted. And even though news has just broken that they have been freed, the joy of their return cannot erase the trauma of their ordeal or the deeper truth it exposes about our country. In that same week, more than three hundred students were taken from a Catholic school. These were girls who simply wanted to learn, to grow, to dream, to build a life. Their only “fault” was the desire to be educated. And then Nigeria happened to them.

There is no way to describe the agony of sending your child to school and then seeing on the news that she has been taken by ruthless, faceless men. You do not know whether she has eaten, whether she is being harmed, what fears she is battling, or what pain she is enduring. Is it a crime to be a girl child in this country? Why must she carry so much suffering on her small shoulders?

The rate of insecurity in Nigeria today is beyond alarming. And our leaders, what exactly are they doing? Must it be your daughter, your niece, your cousin, your wife before you feel any urgency? Must tragedy knock at your own door before you remember the weight of responsibility?

Those who lead us, those who hold authority, are meant to use every tool within their reach to protect citizens of the Federal Republic of Nigeria. Yet what do we see? Are they asleep? Is ordering schools to vacate the answer? When there is even a whisper of protest, government mobilises soldiers with unbelievable speed. But when children are carried away by bandits, the same urgency disappears as though the nation cannot see what is happening.

If you want to understand misplaced priorities, look no further than Nigerian leadership.

Sending students home is not a solution. It strips these girls of their fundamental right to education. And then what happens when they resume? Will the cycle of fear, evacuation and abduction continue? What truly is the way forward?

Our leaders must seek real, practical solutions to these recurring horrors. They must rise to their duties and be held accountable. Our girls are suffering. They are far too young to bear this kind of trauma. No girl, no child, no human being deserves this. No parent deserves the torment of knowing that their daughter is in the hands of men who may do only God knows what to her.

Our love, our prayers and our support remain with these girls and with their families. We thank God for the safe return of the abducted Kebbi schoolgirls, but we refuse to let that relief distract us from the painful truth that no child should ever have been taken in the first place. 

We continue to pray for every child still in captivity, and for the strength of the families waiting for their return. May our leaders finally be held accountable. May our girls be protected, truly and consistently. And may Nigeria never happen to any of us.

Rabi Ummi Umar is an intern at IMPR and can be reached via: rabiumar058@gmail.com.

By Muhammad Abubakar

Former presidential aide Bashir Ahmad has criticised the newly released Netflix film The Herd, arguing that it reinforces harmful stereotypes about Fulani herders and the wider Arewa region. In a post shared on social media, Ahmad said the problem is not the film’s focus on banditry, which he acknowledged is a tragic reality, but its “dangerously inaccurate” portrayal of an entire ethnic group.

Ahmad pointed to a scene in the movie’s teaser in which herders suddenly pull out guns and abduct travellers, describing it as a misleading depiction that paints all Fulani herders as violent criminals. He stressed that while some bandits are indeed Fulani, the vast majority are innocent and among the worst affected by insecurity, having lost their cattle, livelihoods and loved ones.

He warned that such portrayals in international films risk shaping global perceptions in damaging ways, fuelling suspicion and discrimination against innocent people. “That is how stigma is created,” he said, noting that millions of viewers may come to believe that every Fulani herder is a terrorist.

Ahmad faulted the filmmakers for failing to conduct adequate research or engage stakeholders, security experts, victims and pastoralist groups before tackling such a sensitive national issue. He also suggested that the Nigerian Film Corporation, led by Ali Nuhu, should have provided better guidance to avoid what he described as “damaging portrayals.”

He concluded by calling for responsible storytelling that condemns criminals without casting “a shadow of suspicion over millions of innocent herders,” warning that Nigeria’s fragile security situation should not be worsened by divisive media content.

By Uzair Adam 

The Nigerian Army has apprehended a suspected arms dealer, rescued a kidnapped victim, and disrupted terrorist logistics networks within the last 24 hours.

A credible source at the Army Headquarters reportedly disclosed that the troops of Operation FANSAN YAMMA, on Thursday, apprehended a suspected terrorist informant during an ambush at Ungwan Gombawa in Kontagora Local Government Area (LGA) of Niger State.

The source said troops of 1 Brigade also arrested an alleged major terrorist logistics supplier and arms dealer at Danjigba in Bukkuyum LGA.

According to him, preliminary investigations reportedly linked the suspect to two coordinators in Anka LGA, believed to be responsible for storing weapons sourced from the Niger Republic.

He said the troops recovered military uniforms, a helmet, boots, financial receipts amounting to about N4 million, and audio evidence linked to arms transactions.

The source added that troops responding to intelligence on the recent abduction of students of GGSS Maga in Kebbi State stormed a terrorist camp in the Gando–Sunke Forest, which belongs to a kingpin known as Bello Kaura.

He said the attackers fled the location, allowing troops to destroy the camp and its support facilities.

The source explained that another suspected informant travelling from Sokoto was arrested at Augie, where troops recovered five ATM cards, clothing, and N78,900.

In another development, he said troops survived an ambush along the Kaiga–Mara road in Katsina State, forcing the attackers to flee.

He added that an operation carried out in Shinkafi and Zurmi LGAs also resulted in a firefight during which troops captured two AK-47 rifles, ammunition and two motorcycles.

Under Operation Enduring Peace in Plateau State, troops foiled a kidnap attempt in Jos South, rescuing a victim who sustained gunshot wounds.

The source also confirmed that eight suspected criminal herders were arrested in a separate raid in the same LGA.

Similarly, troops of Operation Whirl Stroke responded to a road incident in Nasarawa State, where three passengers were reportedly kidnapped and a driver was injured. Efforts to rescue the victims are ongoing.

He added that troops arrested two herders accused of destroying crops in Guma LGA of Benue State.

According to him, the Chief of Army Staff, Lt.-Gen. Waidi Shaibu recently undertook operational visits to Borno, Kaduna, and Zamfara, during which he assessed ongoing operations and urged troops to remain disciplined, alert, and committed to the fight against terrorism.

Dear Nicki Minaj,

As the latest spokesperson in America speaking on Nigeria, I must clarify that the script provided to you by internal actors back home in Nigeria and their collaborators in the United States is biased and one-sided. You might not fully understand the complexities of insecurity in my country, and you have been fed false lies about fictitious claims of ongoing Christian genocidal attacks.

Here is the reality:

1. In North West Nigeria, banditry devastates the region, with Muslims frequently killing fellow Muslims.

2. In North East Nigeria, Boko Haram and ISWAP, both Muslim terrorist groups, mainly kill fellow Muslims in Borno and Yobe.

3. In North Central Nigeria—Plateau, Southern Kaduna, Taraba, Benue—farmer-herder conflicts, caused by land disputes, are often wrongly seen as religious wars. These conflicts affect both Christians (farmers) and Muslims (Hausa-Fulani herders).

4. In South East Nigeria—Anambra, Enugu, Ebonyi, Abia—IPOB terrorists, who are Igbo Christians, are killing fellow Igbo Christians in their bid for secession.

Dear Nicki, insecurity in Nigeria impacts Muslims, Christians, traditionalists, and atheists equally. The narrative you received is incomplete and misleading.

Nicki Minaj, the Muslims being killed in Nigeria, and other heinous crimes being perpetrated against them do not get to the headlines of international media for you and others to see and understand. The Muslims back home in my country bury their loved ones killed in silence, for they do not believe in using dead bodies for propaganda or to attract sympathy or donations from international organisations.

If you care about speaking for Nigerian Christians, I urge you also to speak for Black Americans facing police brutality. Just as you highlighted Nigeria’s challenges, you can bring the reality of racial injustice in the US to global attention.

Just like you are calling for global international attention on what has been tagged as ongoing Christians’ genocidal attacks in Nigeria, kindly also call global attention to the silent, ongoing police brutality against your fellow Black Americans and the racial discrimination they are facing.

If Nigerian Christians’ lives matter to you, then let the lives of your fellow Black Americans matter as well.

Thanks.

Mustapha Gembu is a Nigerian citizen and a proud advocate for peace, unity, and harmonious coexistence among my fellow Nigerians.

By Umar Sani Adamu, 

For a long time, Western media outlets, foreign politicians, and advocacy groups have repeatedly described Nigeria as the scene of an ongoing “Christian genocide” at the hands of Muslims, particularly Fulani herdsmen. The charge is serious, emotional, and widely circulated. However, a closer examination of the facts on the ground reveals a much more complex and painful truth: the primary victims of the country’s deadliest insecurity crisis, armed banditry, are overwhelmingly northern Muslims.

Multiple independent investigations have found no evidence of a systematic, religiously motivated campaign to exterminate Christians. A 2024 BBC Global Disinformation Unit report, fact-checks by AFP and Al Jazeera, and even cautious statements from Open Doors, the Christian persecution monitor frequently quoted by genocide advocates, have all warned that the term “genocide” is being misused and exaggerated in the Nigerian context.

The violence plaguing the country is real, but it is predominantly criminal, not confessional. Since 2015, armed banditry, kidnapping for ransom, cattle rustling, village raids and mass killings have turned Zamfara, Katsina, Kaduna, Sokoto and parts of Niger State into killing fields. These states are 90–98 per cent Muslim. Most bandits are ethnic Fulani Muslims who prey primarily on Hausa Muslim farming communities.

Complex numbers tell the story that western headlines rarely do:  

– Zamfara State alone recorded over 1,200 banditry-related deaths in 2023,  almost all Muslim.  

– In the first nine months of 2025, more than 2,800 people were killed by bandits across the North West, according to the Nigerian Atrocities Documentation Project. The vast majority were Muslim.  

– The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom stated in its 2025 report that banditry “disproportionately affects Muslim-majority areas”.

While Christians have suffered real losses in Middle Belt farmer-herder clashes and church attacks, the scale and frequency pale in comparison to the daily carnage in the Muslim North West.

 When the clergy cross the line

This month, Plateau State Police Command arrested a Catholic priest for allegedly supplying AK-47 rifles and thousands of rounds of ammunition to bandit gangs operating across Plateau, Kaduna and Bauchi. Weapons recovered from the cleric have reportedly been linked to recent deadly raids. He was paraded on November 12.

It is not an isolated case. In February 2025, another Reverend Father, a deaconess and several church members were arrested in Taraba for allegedly running arms to both Boko Haram and bandit groups. Similar arrests of Christian clergy and lay workers have occurred in Benue and Nasarawa.

Social media reaction was swift and furious: “They label every Fulani man a terrorist, yet a Reverend Father is caught red-handed arming the same killers,” wrote one widely shared post.

Why the false narrative endures

Images of burnt churches and grieving Christian widows travel fast on global networks. Footage of torched Muslim villages in remote Zurmi or Tsafe rarely does. Poor, Hausa-speaking northerners lack the lobbying machinery that amplifies Middle Belt voices in Washington and London.

As one northern governor privately admitted: “When they shout ‘Christian genocide’ abroad, the grants go to NGOs in Jos and Enugu — never to the millions of displaced Muslims rotting in camps in Gusau and Birnin Gwari.”

The way forward

Nigeria’s crisis is one of state failure, poverty, climate stress and organised crime not a holy war. Treating banditry as jihad only deepens division and delays solutions. Community policing, economic revival in the rural North, and ruthless prosecution of arms suppliers regardless of collar or turban offer the only realistic path to peace.

Until the world stops peddling a convenient myth, the people bearing the heaviest burden — ordinary Muslim farmers, women and children of the North West — will continue to bleed in silence.

There is no Christian genocide in Nigeria. There is, however, a predominantly Muslim tragedy that the world has chosen not to see.

Umar Sani Adamu can be reached via umarhashidu1994@gmail.com.

By Lawan Bukar Maigana 

The growing hunger among media organisations and young people to publish exclusive news has created a climate where speed is valued more than truth and its consequences. Many rush to break stories without verifying details, flooding the digital space with noise and carelessness.

This reckless chase is more dangerous than it appears. Insurgents and criminal groups quietly monitor social media ecosystems. They sit behind screens, study posts, and gather intelligence that was never meant for them. A single careless update becomes an open door for those who wish to harm the nation.

The tragedy of Brigadier General Mohammed Uba stands as a painful reminder of how information can be weaponised. His initial capture, his escape, and the later recapture that ended with his execution reveal how ruthless these criminal networks have become. While many sympathised with his ordeal, few understood how online chatter influenced the events.

These groups constantly scan conversations, comments, and reactions. They interpret patterns and extract clues from citizens who treat every issue as content. The story of General Uba should teach the country a life-saving lesson. Silence is sometimes safer than speed. Enemies are listening and active online, and every careless post strengthens their hand.

They learned from social media chatter that he was still in the bush after escaping. Thoughtless updates provided them with clues. They mobilised fighters, tracked him again, recaptured him, and executed him. This is the heavy cost of posting without restraint.

Security matters require silence more than spectacle. Media organisations must recognise that operational secrecy protects lives. Sensational updates during crises do not inform, but they endanger. The right to know cannot outweigh the need to safeguard ongoing operations. 

This protection is not just for soldiers but also for citizens. Insurgents study community movements, market patterns, celebrations, and tragedies. Careless information helps them identify the weakest points. 

If anyone must share information during sensitive times, the only safe place to do so is with the authorities. Security spokespeople exist to process information responsibly. They verify claims, filter sensitive information, and ensure that outsiders cannot track anything that could compromise national security.

Despite these realities, many still chase virality with reckless boldness. A recent incident exposed this trend when a fabricated story circulated about a young lady in  Gubio Local Government Area of Borno State, who allegedly took her life because she was forced into marriage. Influencers shared it widely without verifying a single detail from her family or the authorities.

The emotional weight of the story carried it across timelines. People blamed parents, culture, and religion. The story was false, yet the damage was already done. The truth moved more slowly than the lie. Later, those who invented the news were arrested, and they confessed that they had shared the information without any verification after a whole LGA had been demonised.

This incident reflects a troubling social habit. People now prefer drama to accuracy. They prefer emotional reactions to factual clarity. They prefer virality to responsibility, at the expense of people’s lives, especially among northern netizens. 

This culture feeds insecurity and weakens the nation’s sense of truth. When false alarms dominate the digital space, real warnings become harder to identify. When emotion overshadows fact, society becomes vulnerable.

Young people must understand that social media is no longer a playground; it is a battlefield for attention and a monitoring ground for criminals, organisations, and individuals with exclusive access who read everything posted online.

Editors and influencers must rise above the chaos and set a standard. They must insist on verification before publication and accuracy before speed. Their platforms should become places where truth is valued and rumours are filtered out. If they uphold responsible reporting, their followers will learn to do the same.

They must also use their influence to educate the public. People should understand that clicks are not worth the life of a soldier or a citizen, and shares are not worth the shame of an innocent family. Only through responsible reporting can society rebuild trust, strengthen security, and protect the dignity of those whose stories are too important to be mistreated or used to strengthen news agencies’ visibility.

Lawan Bukar Maigana wrote via lawanbukarmaigana@gmail.com.

By Ibrahim Aisha 

Across much of Northern Nigeria, girls still face an invisible wall after secondary school. Parents’ fears, tight household budgets, and the pull of early marriage keep many daughters at home. Yet, data and role models reveal what is lost when the ambition of a female child is clipped.

For generations, education has been regarded as the key to progress and empowerment. Still, in conservative societies, the education of girls beyond the basics is often seen as unnecessary or even a threat to tradition despite government campaigns, NGO interventions, and success stories of women who have broken barriers.

The world has become a global village. Technology, digital communication, and international mobility have reshaped how we live and work. In this new reality, uneducated girls are left voiceless, powerless, and excluded from the spaces where contemporary women now thrive sitting in parliaments, leading global institutions, directing multinational companies, and innovating in science and technology.

Why, in 2025, do some communities still resist girls’ education?

The answer often lies in illiteracy. Parents who never had the privilege of education sometimes fail to see its value. Many fear what they do not understand. To them, sending a daughter to university feels like losing her to an unknown world.

Data from the National Bureau of Statistics as at 2017 defined literacy as the percentage of people aged 15 and above who can read, write, and understand simple expressions in any language. A Punch Editorial Board report from September 2023 highlighted Nigeria’s poor education outlook: although the government claimed a national literacy rate of 69%, this figure hides wide regional disparities. 

According to a UNICEF report on the state of Nigeria’s children, 10.2 million primary school-aged children and 8.1 million secondary school-aged children are out of school in the country.Reports indicate that between 2020 and 2025, Northern Nigeria consistently recorded between five and seven million out-of-school girls, with only minor fluctuations despite ongoing efforts.

Socio-Cultural Impediments 

Household-level constraints on access to education are not entirely economic. Studies and surveys identify several socio-cultural factors: erosion of extended family solidarity, weakening societal values, and gender-related issues such as teenage pregnancy, early marriage, and perceptions about the “proper role” of women.

Northern Nigeria is still shaped by cultural practices harmful to women’s emancipation, including early and forced marriage, wife-inheritance, widowhood practices, lack of access to education, low enrollment rates, poor funding, inadequate facilities for persons with disabilities, and frequent disruptions caused by conflict and seasonal migration.

Stories from the Ground

The experiences of girls and women across the North reveal both the struggles and the possibilities of education.

Rahama Dajuma, a graduate, said that education had done everything for her. She now works with an NGO and is about to get married. She relieved her father from the stress of buying furniture for her wedding, and her fiancé is allowing her to keep her job.

Zainab Abubakar, a student, mother and a resident of Sabuwar Gwammaja, argued that girls should be asked their opinions because “you can force a horse to the riverbank but you cannot force it to drink.” She added that many parents above 60 in her community do not want their sons to marry women educated beyond secondary school, fearing such women will not be submissive.

Zakiyyah Al-Hassan, a resident of Chiranchi, shared that she is not educated but wants her child to go beyond secondary school. According to her, the world is changing and women should not be stuck in the kitchen, as educated women contribute to the home even before bringing in their salaries.

Fatima Abubakar, a student of the School of Hygiene, explained that she is the only one schooling out of nine children. Her father could not afford fees for all, so her siblings sacrificed for her.

Iya Aminatu, a resident of Kurna Kwachiri, revealed that none of her seven daughters went beyond junior secondary school because her husband is completely against it, and she could not object to his decision.

Malam Rafa’i, a local Islamic teacher and resident of Tsakuwa, said during a telephone interview that it is a waste of time and resources to send a girl to school when she should stay home and learn how to cook so as to be a perfect wife to her husband.

Fatima Haruna, a secondary school graduate, recalled that her elder sister Khadijah finished with flying colours and was promised that she could continue schooling. After marriage, her husband refused, saying he had no intention of letting her further her education. He had only used that promise to lure her into marriage. Since then, their father insists that no daughter can further her education unless her husband agrees.

The Road Ahead

These stories show that the real question has shifted from “Should girls be educated?” to “How fast can Northern Nigeria catch up?” Education experts and stakeholders warn that if the situation does not improve, Northern Nigeria risks falling further behind, with dire consequences for national development. The region needs more investment in infrastructure, security, and teacher training. Cultural reorientation campaigns must also be intensified to promote the value of education, especially for girls.

The answer lies in stronger government commitment, sustained community awareness, and the courage to challenge harmful traditions. Education is no longer a privilege. It is a necessity for survival in the global age.