YOBE & BORNO STATES, Nigeria — At forward bases carved into the semi-desert terrain of Nigeria’s northeast, a growing undercurrent of distrust has emerged among frontline soldiers serving in the war against Boko Haram. These soldiers say the government’s strategy of integrating “repentant” insurgents into counter-insurgency operations is itself a vulnerability being exploited by the very fighters it was meant to neutralise.
One soldier, speaking on condition of anonymity for security reasons, described how ex-Boko Haram combatants — those who surrendered under the government-backed amnesty programme — have repeatedly passed on detailed operational information to their former comrades. “Before Boko Haram attack any military camp in the Northeast, they already know how we operate,” he said. “These repentant fighters tell them everything. They expose how many men we deploy at the gate or entrance, the kind of weapons we carry, even the daily routine in the camp.”
According to him, the breaches extend far beyond simple chatter. “They tell Boko Haram that every evening between 4:00 pm and 7:00 pm, all soldiers must return to camp for what we call ‘stand 2’ — the period when we observe enemy movements. They also tell them where our armoury is located — where we keep rifles, GMPGs, RPGs, PKTs, hand grenades, and bombs.” With that information in hand, the soldier says, Boko Haram attacks succeed with dangerous precision.
Another soldier described how the leaks even include supply-chain logistics: “They even tell them where our food store is so that when Boko Haram attacks, they can cart away our food to starve us. Because we load food monthly, they know the exact time supplies arrive.” Without the insider information from repentant elements, he said, many of the recent attacks “would not have succeeded or even come back alive. But once they know our strength and routine, they strike with precision.”
The military’s policy of deploying ex-insurgents under the state rehabilitation programmes has, these soldiers contend, created a “dangerous alliance.” “In our camp, we have repentant Boko Haram members; those ones that surrendered. They are working with us. We go on patrol together so that they can give us information about Boko Haram fighters still hiding in the bush,” said one soldier. “Some of them have run back to the bush to rejoin Boko Haram after gathering intelligence from us. That’s why we don’t believe they are truly repentant.”
For these frontline troops, the arrangement represents a betrayal of the sacrifices made by those who have served under fire. “These people killed our colleagues and civilians. Then one day they say they have surrendered, and the government forgives them just like that. Now we are forced to work with them. It doesn’t make sense.”
Multiple sources confirm that state governments in Yobe and Borno have formally incorporated repentant fighters into counter-insurgency operations; soldiers say some ex-fighters have been given motorbikes, stipends, even military‐style uniforms. “They are paid salaries and fed whatever we eat in the camp,” one soldier disclosed. “Only our senior officers know their real numbers. We, the field soldiers, don’t like them, but our commanders say we must work with them.”
The government’s deradicalisation and reintegration policy is meant to reduce the pool of active insurgents and draw on local intelligence. But this reporting suggests the strategy may carry heavy operational risks. In 2024, it was reported that 13 ‘repentant’ Boko Haram members escaped with motorcycles and sophisticated weapons provided by the Borno State Government and training programmes aimed at reintegration. The state claimed to have reintegrated 8,490 former fighters under its “Borno Model” scheme.
For the soldiers interviewed, the question is simple: when the weaponry and supply lines are compromised, when patrols must include men they deem untrustworthy, what remains of the front-line’s security? One remarked: “Our methods are giving away the whole game. Once they know our routine, our entry, our weapons, they only need to hit us when we are vulnerable.”
Attempts to reach official comment on the matter were unsuccessful by time of publication. The army headquarters did not immediately respond to requests for comment, and relevant state government spokespeople did not return inquiries. Analysts note that while integration of former insurgents may provide short-term benefits of local knowledge, it must be managed with extreme caution and strong oversight.
As Nigeria’s northeast continues to endure attacks and insurgents shift tactics, the erosion of trust at the frontline risks becoming yet another battleground. If soldiers feel betrayed and missions are compromised from within, the war against Boko Haram may no longer be solely about the militants in the bush — but the vulnerabilities inside the very camps meant to defend against them.
Discussion about this post