By Mohammed Ibrahim Yaba, Kaduna
The journey began on Thursday, December 20, 2024 when I received a call from my office, instructing me to prepare for a meeting with some bandit kingpins willing to engage in peace talks near the Rijana area of Kaduna State.
As a journalist covering insecurity, particularly kidnapping and banditry for almost 10 years, I had never had the opportunity to meet these criminals face-to-face. It was an opportunity to ask them directly why they are killing and abducting innocent people.
This was my thought immediately I ended the call and looked forward to the day and time for the journey.
Kaduna State has been ravaged by banditry, with thousands of lives lost and property destroyed. In 2021 alone, at least 888 people were killed and 2,553 kidnapped.
The following year, the number rose to 1,052 killed, 4,227 abducted and 648 injured. In just the first quarter of 2023, bandits killed 214 people and kidnapped 746 others, according to the State Ministry of Internal Security and Home Affairs.
Most of the victims were rural dwellers forced to pay enormous ransoms. As journalists, we often reported these abductions, attributing them to bandits we never heard from. Many journalists feared even speaking to them on phone. I had interviewed countless kidnap victims, hearing their horrific experiences in captivity. And their accounts were so terrifying that no one, not even an enemy, would wish to endure them.
Despite my extensive reporting, I had never spoken to a bandit in person until that day. I accepted the invitation to accompany the government negotiators as the sole journalist at the peace meeting with notorious bandit leaders terrorising Chikun, Kagarko, Kajuru and parts of Kachia, Giwa and Birnin Gwari local government areas of Kaduna State.
These areas include the KadunaAbuja highway, which was once nearly abandoned due to constant attacks. Although government efforts had somewhat stabilised the road, kidnapping continued in nearby villages.
Meeting the bandits in Tsohuwar Gayan
I was picked up in a vehicle heading to the meeting venue in Tsohuwar Gayan, a village in Chikun Local Government Area. The untarred road led through thick bushes, heightening my fear; yet, curiosity drove me forward as I needed to see these men face-to-face.
Arriving at the location, I saw a crowd under mango trees, many of them armed with AK-47 rifles. Some wore facemasks and sweaters while others covered their faces with veils. The driver murmured in Hausa, “Ga su nan” (Here they are) and my stomach made an unusual sound.
We waited in the vehicle for three minutes before I was told to step out. My colleague prepared to film, but I stopped him, fearing it might agitate the bandits. A man approached and instructed, “Follow me; do not stay away from me.”
I was led to a gathering of 10 armed bandit leaders and local community figures. An elderly man named Abdulfatai pointed at an abandoned farmland, saying, “I haven’t been here in five years, for fear of being kidnapped or killed.”
Tsohuwar Gayan was a ghost town. Houses had crumbled, and the once thriving Juma’at mosque stood deserted until that day when villagers prayed there for the first time in five years.
The negotiator addressed the group, emphasizing the importance of peace. Then, I was directed to interview the bandit leader, Samaila Suleiman, also known as Boka.
Dressed in dark sunglasses and a camouflage vest, an AK-47 rested beside him. Around him stood other commanders – Saleh Horror, Musa, Muhammad Mallam, Sadiq Yellow and Bello, all heavily armed.
As if he was waiting for such an opportunity, Boka spoke at length, claiming they were tired of the killings and destruction. He vowed to stop the violence, provided security forces ceased their operations against them in the forests.
Other bandit leaders echoed his sentiment, pledging to return their weapons and release any remaining kidnapped victim.
They insisted that they turned to banditry out of ignorance, and urged the government to provide schools, hospitals and farming support. If these demands were met, they promised to renounce crime.
The community leaders that addressed the gathering also urged the bandits to keep to their promises as we left the bush at 6pm that day.
Rima forest
The next morning, December 21, we travelled to Rima forest in Giwa Local Government Area to meet another group of bandits. On the way, we stopped for Juma’at prayers at Sabon Birni, a village long plagued by attacks. Suspicion lingered in the eyes of the villagers.
Sabon Birni had suffered greatly. And soldiers had killed over 100 cows suspected to belong to bandits. Bandits had forced villagers to pay levies to access their farmlands. Poverty was visible everywhere in the community.
After prayers, we continued. As we entered the forest, I was told the bandits were watching us from the trees. Soon, five masked men on motorcycles emerged, ordering us to climb aboard. My hands trembled. As I held my notebook, it suddenly felt heavy.
We rode for about five minutes, deeper into the forest, passing armed bandits stationed under trees. I kept reciting supplications for safety. At the meeting point, their leader, Kabiru, welcomed us. He was the younger brother of the infamous Baderi, who had been killed by security forces.
Kabiru initially refused an interview but agreed after being allowed to wear a mask and surrounded by other armed lieutenants. Another kingpin, Haruna Dandukunu, who I was told was ruthless, spoke openly, declaring, “I don’t want my children to follow in my footsteps. Banditry is not a good life.”
Dandukunu admitted that most ransom money was spent on arms. “People think we are rich, but we spend most of it buying more guns,” he said, puffing on an Indian hemp. He, too, vowed to embrace peace.
“We pray the peace talks stand for us to return to our normal lives,” he said, smiling. I also observed that others wanted to be interviewed. They explained how they got into banditry. Part of the reasons was the fact that their settlements were destroyed and family cattle rustled by fellow kinsmen. They added that security agencies forced them to arm themselves and move to the forest.
The search for Yellow Jamboros
On December 22, we travelled to Birnin Gwari to meet one of the most feared bandit leaders: Yellow Jamboros. He was responsible for numerous highway kidnappings, including the abduction of over 80 Kuriga schoolchildren.
Jamboros was not around, so his deputy, Hassan Shuaibu met us. Sitting on his motorcycle and wearing a local cap and a black leather jacket on his light blue kaftan, Hassan confirmed that they had ceased attacks since the peace talks began, allowing travellers to move freely along the Kaduna-Birnin Gwari highway, once one of the most dangerous roads in Nigeria.
We saw the change: trucks and other vehicles moved without military escorts. We also saw cattle being reared in the bush in their numbers, an indication that the area was calm. Hassan further emphasized that their commitment to peace depended on government’s sincerity.
If the peace deal held, he assured us, kidnapping and cattle rustling in the area would stop entirely.
Villagers excited
In most of the villages visited during the peace talks, I observed that the villagers, both female, youth, children and adults were all excited about the peace talks. This shows that the villagers are eager to return to their normal lives, having free access to their farms and local livestock markets.
At Tsohuwar Gayan, women and children were seen singing and dancing when the peace talks ended. Many of them were also seen inspecting their deserted mud houses in preparation for their return.
In Maidaro village, Giwa, life is gradually returning to normal, with villagers saying there is the need to forgive one another. They claim that they now spend hours outside without fear of being harmed.
A local butcher, Dahiru Pawa, said peace was gradually returning because he and other villagers could sleep comfortably. “We thank all those behind the peace talks,” he said.
Similarly, at Kamfanin Doka, a village along the dangerous Funtua-Birnin Gwari road, where we went to meet Jamboros, the locals we interacted with expressed happiness about the peace agreement.
However, I observed some level of uncertainty on the faces of those interviewed, especially the locals as they were unsure whether the peace talks would be sustained.
“We are just hoping and praying that the peace agreement holds for a long time to enable us return to our farms this year. In fact, that is my major concern,” a villager told me.
I also saw some unarmed bandits, believed to be Jamboros’ foot soldiers, riding their motorcycles through the small town, with some going into the village’s only newly opened filling station to buy fuel.
As we left, I realised that military approach alone would not end banditry. Negotiation and rehabilitation must be part of the solution.
The bandits expressed desire for normal lives, an indication that if the peace deal holds, the lives of Kaduna villagers could finally be secured.
@Weekend Trust