Nigeria’s plan to bring hundreds of former Boko Haram fighters back into society is exposing deep divisions in the northeast, particularly in Borno state. The federal government says reintegrating more than 700 ex-combatants under Operation Safe Corridor is a practical step toward ending a decade of insurgency. Many residents, however, view the policy as reopening fresh wounds in areas still recovering from extreme violence.
Operation Safe Corridor, launched in 2016, combines screening, deradicalization, psychological counselling and vocational training for fighters who surrender. Officials say the program has encouraged defections and reduced recruitment: more than 2,000 people have passed through it and only those judged to be “low risk” are released. Security and state officials maintain that returnees undergo vetting by the Department of State Services and community leaders, and they point to previous cases in which reintegrated individuals were accepted by some communities.
On the ground, acceptance is far from uniform. Residents in Borno told DW that the idea of living beside people who once attacked them is deeply unsettling. Some residents argue reintegration should be relocated away from the communities that suffered violence so victims need not live alongside the people who harmed them. “If you forgive somebody and you want to integrate him, take him to another local government where the offended people will not see that person,” one local said, stressing that proximity undermines any sense of peace.
Recent attacks in Maiduguri — including strikes on a market, a post office and the teaching hospital — have left many traumatised and convinced reintegration is premature. Community members say such incidents revive fears and feed rumours that some violent acts are connected to reintegration efforts, further eroding trust.
Scepticism also focuses on whether surrendered fighters have genuinely changed. Some residents accept the program in principle but worry that promises made to repentant fighters are not kept, pushing some back toward armed groups. One community member said he preferred to call participants “surrendered” rather than “repentant,” since outward compliance does not reveal inner conviction. Others warn of recycling the same individuals if assessments are inadequate. By contrast, some — including students — argue people can change and deserve a chance if they choose peace.
Questions of justice and restitution complicate the debate. Many victims remain displaced and without compensation for lost homes or livelihoods, and lawyers and activists say authorities have not been transparent about who is being reintegrated or the extent of their involvement in past violence. While international law permits reintegration programs, lack of clarity and accountability frustrate communities that want both security and redress.
The government maintains that Operation Safe Corridor is a pragmatic tool to weaken Boko Haram and reintegrate low-risk individuals. Yet in communities still healing, the program’s benefits are measured against a loss of trust and a sense that justice has been deferred. Until those concerns are addressed — through clearer information, reparations and careful community engagement — reintegration risks remaining a contested, painful process rather than a path to lasting peace.