,
Few issues ignite public anger in Nigeria like the question of rehabilitating so-called “repentant” terrorists.
Desk: Security & Counterinsurgency
Date: Monday, 223 February 2026
Time: 09:02 WAT
Location: Abuja, Nigeria
Author: Chidi Omeje
For many citizens, especially those in communities ravaged by insurgency, the mere mention of deradicalisation programmes feels like an insult layered upon injury. How, they ask, can a nation console widows and orphans on one hand, and extend structured rehabilitation to members of Boko Haram on the other?
The fury is real. It is visceral. And it is understandable. For over a decade, Boko Haram’s campaign of terror has left towns flattened, families shattered and trust in humanity deeply scarred. Thousands have been killed. Millions displaced. Schools destroyed. Livelihoods erased.
In my article on the same issue titled, "What Shall We Do With Repentant Boko Haram Members", published on 14 August, 2021, I argued as follows:
"In fact, if the cold-bloodedness, bestiality and brutality of Boko Haram terrorists towards innocent folks who are minding their own businesses are put into consideration, you would be tempted to recommend summary execution of such vicious fiends.
"If the stress that our security forces have passed through and the unquantifiable sacrifices a lot of the gallant troops have paid in the past decade in the course of carrying out their constitutional responsibility of defending the sovereignty of the Nigeria from Boko Haram terrorists and their collaborators are considered, one would advocate the denial of any clemency for the surrendered villains.
"If the humanitarian tragedies in the form of dislocation of families, truncation of dreams and rendition of millions of innocent citizens into Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps which the bestial activities of Boko Haram terrorists provoked is reflected upon, you would want to prescribe jungle justice for the surrendered scums; if the humongous resources wasted, properties destroyed and social fabric disrupted as result of Boko Haram violent campaigns in the north east and elsewhere are factored in, nobody will look back before obliterating any of them in sight.
"And so, the skepticism and emotions that are running wild among Nigerians regarding what to do with the surrendered Boko Haram fighters are pretty much understandable but you see, Nigeria is a nation governed by law and the Nigerian military is an institution guided by law and rules of engagement."
No doubt therefore that to many Nigerians, the idea that arrested fighters could receive counselling, vocational training and eventual reintegration feels dangerously close to clemency, if not outright injustice.
The fear runs deeper still: some people believe that these “repentant” fighters never truly repent. That they return quietly to their violent networks. That they become informants for their former comrades. That rehabilitation is merely a tactical pause before a relapse into bloodshed.
These concerns cannot be dismissed with platitudes. They must be acknowledged as the moral cry of a wounded nation. Yet public policy cannot be built on emotion alone.
The recent high-level stakeholders’ meeting convened by the Defence Headquarters to expand Operation SAFE CORRIDOR underscores a critical reality: military force, no matter how robust, cannot on its own extinguish an ideology-rooted insurgency.
As the statement issued by the Director of Defence Information, Maj Gen Samaila Uba, said, the Chief of Defence Staff, Olufemi Oluyede, reaffirmed that kinetic operations create space for stabilisation but structured rehabilitation consolidates those gains. That distinction is vital.
History has shown, in conflicts across continents, that insurgencies sustained by ideology and grievance do not end purely at the barrel of a gun. They end when recruitment pipelines dry up. When internal cohesion fractures. When foot soldiers lose faith in their commanders. When surrender becomes more attractive than martyrdom.
Operation SAFE CORRIDOR is not an amnesty bazaar. It is a controlled Disarmament, Rehabilitation and Reintegration (DRR) framework designed to exploit precisely those fractures. Since its inception in 2016, the programme has processed thousands through rigorous screening, ideological disengagement modules and psychosocial recovery systems.
It draws personnel from 17 services and agencies. It works with federal ministries, state governments and international partners. It coordinates reintegration with receiving communities. Critically, surrender pathways weaken insurgent cohesion. Every fighter who lays down arms disrupts the myth of invincibility. Every insider who disengages diminishes the operational secrecy of terror cells.
Intelligence gleaned from defectors has, in multiple theatres of conflict worldwide, accelerated the dismantling of extremist networks. This is the “bigger picture” often lost in heated debate.
Those who demand only retribution assume a binary choice: punish or perish. But counterinsurgency is rarely binary. It is layered. It combines hard power and soft power. It strikes with force while simultaneously working in the minds of those seduced by violent ideologies.
Indeed, refusing structured surrender pathways can perversely strengthen insurgent propaganda. If fighters believe there is no exit except death or indefinite imprisonment, they are more likely to fight to the last bullet. A credible reintegration framework introduces doubt, and doubt is a powerful weapon against extremism.
Still, none of this negates the primacy of justice. Rehabilitation must never become a shortcut around accountability. Screening must remain stringent. Communities must be consulted. Monitoring must be continuous. Victims must not be sidelined in the name of expediency.
Expanding deradicalisation efforts, whether in Borno, the North West or prospective camps in the North Central, must go hand in hand with transparency and safeguards. Moreover, reintegration must prioritise community healing. Without reconciliation mechanisms and structured monitoring, resentment can fester, undermining the very stability the programme seeks to build.
The anger of Nigerians springs from a legitimate fear: that the state may appear more attentive to perpetrators than to victims. That perception must be addressed head-on. Victim support frameworks, compensation, psychosocial services and reconstruction efforts must be visible, robust and sustained. Only then can deradicalisation be seen not as favouring terrorists, but as protecting future victims.
Ultimately, the question is not whether Nigerians are right to feel outraged. They are. The question is whether outrage alone can defeat an ideology. It cannot.
Insurgency thrives on grievance, indoctrination and social fractures. A strategy limited to military offensives risks becoming cyclical: clear, hold, relapse, repeat. Breaking that cycle requires undermining the belief systems that fuel recruitment. Operation SAFE CORRIDOR represents an uncomfortable but necessary recognition of this truth: wars against violent extremism are fought not only on battlefields, but in minds.
And in that long war for hearts, minds and national stability, a door that allows surrender, carefully guarded and tightly monitored, may be one of the most powerful weapons the state possesses.
Chidi Omeje is the publisher of Security Digest
🏷️Tags: Nigeria, Counterinsurgency, Operation SAFE CORRIDOR, Defence Headquarters, Deradicalisation, Security Policy, North East Nigeria
#NigeriaSecurity, #CounterInsurgency, #OperationSafeCorridor, #NationalSecurity, #Deradicalisation
~2.png)
.jpeg)
0 Comments