The Security Impact of Boko Haram on Women & Children in IDP Camps

Surviving Boko Haram

Before the Boko Haram crisis, Halima Jibrin had never imagined a scenario that would force her and her family to leave their home, Baga, a town in the northeastern Nigerian state of Borno. It was her beloved home, where she enjoyed relative peace, owning farmlands and fishponds. She never knew that everything would be shattered in January 2015 when Boko Haram insurgents launched an attack on the town.

Halima remembers that evening. She was cooking dinner when the Boko Haram terrorists stormed Baga, shooting indiscriminately and setting houses ablaze. Halima gathered her children and joined the frantic crowd running on the streets as they fled for their lives. “Many were not so fortunate. They were killed. But we survived,” Halima recounted.

After Halima and her family fled Baga, they sought refuge from one village to another until they eventually settled in Maiduguri, the Borno State capital. Their journey had been traumatic, and they lost everything they had ever known. Their homes, farms, and belongings were all gone.

Baga, a town in the Kukawa local government area of Borno State, is located near Lake Chad, about 196 kilometres from the state capital, Maiduguri. Over the years, it has been a frequent target of Boko Haram attacks.

There are days when Halima Jibrin turns back to knitting caps to make income. But it’s not always sustainable. Photo: Imran Ridwan

How It Started

Boko Haram, founded in 2002 by Muhammadu Yusuf, is a militant group that opposes Western education. The name “Boko Haram” is a Hausa phrase that translates as “Western education is forbidden,” and from protesting against Western education, the group went on to launch attacks on police stations and government buildings, including the United Nations headquarters in Abuja.

Boko Haram’s activities have caused widespread destruction in Nigeria, Africa’s largest democracy. The group has carried out numerous bombings, assassinations, and abductions, resulting in the deaths of thousands and the displacement of millions, primarily in northeastern Nigeria. In 2013, the United States designated Boko Haram as a terrorist group.

According to a BBC report, Amnesty International stated that the Boko Haram attack on Baga and nearby Doron Baga was the largest and deadliest assault the organization had ever analyzed. In Baga, approximately 620 structures were destroyed, while in Doron Baga, the number exceeded 3,100. The attack, described as “catastrophic,” destroyed homes, schools, and clinics. Although the government claimed that the number of casualties was not more than 150, some reports said the death toll reached 2,000.

The attack has since forced the migration of many women and children from Baga to seek shelter in internally displaced persons (IDP) camps in Maiduguri. Halima was one of them. “We will finally find a home in El-Miskin camp,” she said.

Life Before the Crisis

Halima is not alone. Like her, Rahila Muktari had lived her entire life in Baga before the 2015 attack. After escaping with her family, they first found refuge in a relative’s house in a host community in Maiduguri but later moved to the El-Miskin IDP camp.

Speaking to Diaspora Africa, 45-year-old Rahila admitted that life in the camp was not as good as in Baga. Back in Baga, she had a large farm where she grew crops to sell and support her family. “We are managing here,” she stressed. “If we get food, we eat. If we don’t, we go hungry. Sometimes, the children go out to look for what to eat.”

In northeastern Nigeria, the decade-long conflict between the armed group Boko Haram and the Nigerian government has displaced an estimated 2.5 million people, of whom at least 79% are women and girls. This population is scattered across camps and host communities in six states in the region, as well as in neighbouring Cameroon, Chad, and Niger.

Rahila’s story is similar to many other women Diaspora Africa encountered at the El-Miskin IDP camp. These women struggle to feed themselves and their children, and many of their children have stopped going to school since they were displaced. Falmata Mohammad Ali, 30, is now forced to send her 5-year-old child to the streets every day to beg for food and money.

Falmata said life was much better when they lived in Goniri, a village in northern Borno state. Like the other women in the camp, she was a farmer, and in the evenings, she would fry awara, a local dish. This all changed when the insurgency forced her to flee to the El-Miskin IDP camp, where feeding herself and her family became even more difficult.

We are now struggling to eat. Sometimes, food and NFIs [Non-food items] will be shared here [in the IDP camp], and we will not get them,” Falmata told Diaspora Africa.

Rahila Muktari, sometimes, sells locals spices in the camp. Photo: Imran Ridwan

Women and Children Face Severe Hunger and Abuse

Many displaced women in the camp reported facing severe challenges, such as inadequate access to menstrual hygiene products and increased vulnerability to gender-based violence. Nigeria’s high cost of living has also forced them and their children to resort to begging on the streets.

When this reporter visited the camp, Halima’s children were crying because they were hungry. She shared that there were minimal opportunities for work or business that would allow her to earn money to buy food for her family.

Even the Lalo [a local vegetable] we used to get to eat or sell, it’s now difficult to get. We have to trek far distances to get it,” Halima, the mother of 9, lamented.

The El-miskin camp in Maiduguri houses thousands of internally displaced persons (IDPs). Photo: Imran Ridwan

Rahila, a mother of 6, continued that sometimes, she and her children would go out looking for work or food. “Before, we worked for a woman who helped us with a little money. But that stopped. The government has never supported us. They have never visited us here,” Rahila bemoaned.

Falmata recently received a bag of rice and ₦1,000 ($0.61), but she has since given up hope of receiving any further support at the camp. In the rainy season, she is hired to work on people’s farms, where she earns ₦1,500 ($0.65) per day. Now, with the rising cost of food, this is no longer enough to buy a mudu of maize flour and soup ingredients for a meal.

Many thoughts raced through Falmata Mohammad Ali’s mind. She’s uncertain about the future. Photo: Imran Ridwan.

Half mudu of maize flour is N830, which is very expensive for us. Yet we are managing and joining hands with my husband, who also goes out to hunt for labour jobs. If he gets it, we will combine and get to feed. If he doesn’t, we will starve,” Falmata said. 

Until support comes for these displaced women, their children will continue to beg on the streets.

Writer: Yahuza Bawage
Editors: Amaka Obioji, Chimee Adioha
Images: Imran Ridwan

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