A deadly new militant group, Mahmuda, has emerged as a dominant terror force in North-Central Nigeria, unleashing a wave of brutality across communities surrounding the Kainji Lake National Park (KLNP). The group, reportedly made up of breakaway Boko Haram elements, has left a bloody trail in its wake—most recently murdering over 15 local vigilantes and villagers in a brazen assault on Kemanji community in Kwara State.
The Mahmuda group operates with impunity across Kwara and Niger States, particularly in Kaiama Local Government Area (Kemaanji, Tenebo, Baabete, Nuku, Nanu), Baruten LGA (villages in the Yashikira District), and in Babana and Wawa districts of Borgu LGA, Niger State. These once-thriving rural communities now live under siege, their residents held hostage by a new order ruled by fear, extremism, and lawlessness.
SaharaReporters learned that the group has not only taken over vast territories of the KLNP but has turned the national park into a base for extremist operations. “They call themselves the Mahmuda Group. Their leader sends audio threats to the villages, killing, kidnapping, and extorting ransom without challenge,” a source lamented.
Another insider painted a grim picture: “The Nigerian state has lost control over these regions. What was once a haven for tourism and biodiversity has now become a stronghold for jihadist insurgency.”
Initially, the group clashed with local vigilantes and illegal loggers over control of the forest. However, in a twist of survival and betrayal, the loggers negotiated access with the militants, paving the way for the extremists to profit from deforestation, while extending their grip on the region.
“The militants have ruled these parts unchallenged for over five years,” a local said. “They first arrived after being chased out of Mokwa by former Niger State Governor Muazu Babangida Aliyu, who accused them of being Boko Haram. From there, they relocated to Welele in Kaiama LGA, were expelled again, and later resurfaced in the KLNP, stronger and more violent.”
Security sources suggest that the group may have international roots, possibly infiltrating from the Benin or Niger Republic. Their speech, ideology, and brutal governance resemble jihadist offshoots of the Boko Haram sect.
A recent audiotape purportedly from their leader describes Mahmuda as a “moderate Islamist group” aligned with Sunni ideology. They refer to themselves interchangeably as the Mahmuda Group or Mallam Group, with their leader known only as “Mallam,” a shadowy figure hailed among the militants as a holy warrior.
The militants now control an estimated 3,970 square kilometers of land within the national park, and have effectively established a parallel government. Herders pay zakat (Islamic tax) for grazing rights. Farmers must pay levies for access to land. Locals are forced into unpaid labor, and abducted for ransom. The militants set up roadblocks, ban alcohol and tobacco, enforce Islamic moral codes, and even adjudicate local disputes.
In a disturbing development, community members—including youths—are being indoctrinated and recruited as informants. Herbalists suspected of aiding vigilantes are hunted. Unconfirmed reports also link the Mahmuda Group to illegal mining operations in the park.
“They are not just militants; they are administrators of terror,” a resident stated. “They organize Islamic sermons to turn the people against the Nigerian state. They’ve created a state within a state.”
Despite the growing danger, security forces have largely failed to reclaim the area. The locals, disillusioned with government efforts, often turn to the Mahmuda Group themselves for mediation and protection—even collaborating with them to recover kidnap victims.
In a twisted irony, the militants have become both the arsonists and the firefighters—blamed for banditry yet seen by some as enforcers against rogue criminals.
The question now remains: who is protecting Mahmuda? And why has the Nigerian government failed to confront this emerging threat decisively?
As the KLNP and its surrounding communities continue to fall deeper into militant control, Nigerians are left to wonder whether their government is unwilling—or simply unable—to take back what has been lost.
“The world is unaware of what is happening to the people of Borgu,” one source said. “But we live it, every day, under the shadow of Mahmuda.”
PIONEER NEWS 