The Islamist militant

Washington Post

19-02-2025

As Africa's Sahel region has replaced the Middle East as the epicenter of jihadism, young men are flocking to the cause. They don't always like what they find.
NIAMEY, Niger — As Islamist extremist groups have wrested large swaths of territory from government control in the Sahel, young men have streamed into their ranks, often compelled more by economic desperation than ideology.
Ibrahim, a soft-spoken Nigerien in his 20s, joined the local al-Qaeda affiliate after bandits sacked his village, leaving him with few prospects, and the sense of adventure and fellowship he found among the militants helped keep him fighting by their side, even as he grew increasingly troubled by the group's brutality.
'In the army, if there is a battle and soldiers win, then they are happy. It was like that for us,' he said. 'I was with my friends, and it was joy.'
Ibrahim was relaxing with his comrades over mint tea when he was summoned to his first mission. A messenger had arrived on motorcycle with an order from their commander. Trucks hauling cargo considered 'haram,' or forbidden by Islamic law, had been spotted. They had to be intercepted.
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Ibrahim, then 25, recalled rushing to grab his Kalashnikov rifle and keys for the Toyota pickup. Other fighters piled in. Behind the wheel, he followed another pickup and two motorcycles, racing along desert backroads in Mali's Timbuktu region and stopping only when he saw about half a dozen white trucks on the horizon.
Three gunmen descended from his truck and opened fire. He was so nervous that his hands would not stop trembling. He figured death was imminent.
But the drivers surrendered, and Ibrahim was instructed to take them to a bigger road where they could hitchhike to safety. Senior fighters looted the cargo.
Over the following two years, Ibrahim would grow even more active in Jama'at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin, or the Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims. But as he got in deeper, the group's savagery and lethal competition with fellow jihadists in the rival Islamic State affiliate would leave him torn about whether to remain or defect.
Ibrahim, left, reads religious texts with a friend who said he was in the Islamic State affiliate. Ibrahim's religious beliefs hardened after he joined Jama'at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin.
Up in flames
Islam has been the dominant religion in the Sahel for centuries, brought to the region by traders from North Africa and the Middle East. Some of the countries, like Niger, are nearly entirely Muslim, and the type of Islam practiced in the region is traditionally moderate.
Ibrahim grew up at a time when his village, in Niger's far west near its porous borders with Mali and Burkina Faso, was peaceful; its tree-lined streets would come alive at night with music playing on radios.
Islamist extremism, however, was beginning to spill into Niger as militants who had first targeted Mali turned their sights on its neighbors. By the mid-2010s, extremists on motorcycles had arrived in Ibrahim's area, ordering locals to turn off their music and women to wear hijabs, or Islamic headscarves.
Ibrahim, who spoke on the condition that only his first name be used out of fear for his security, turned to the extremists only after concluding he had few other options.
A year before he joined them, the bandits had raided his village. He had hidden in the elementary school and called a friend in the Nigerien military begging for help. By the time Nigerien soldiers finally responded to Ibrahim's plea, the family's car and his father's general store had been burned.
Ibrahim determined there was no longer a way to make a living in the village. He soon packed his bags, left his wife and young son and headed to Mali to seek work in the gold mines.
Ibrahim left Niger to seek work in the gold mines in Mali.
Underground economy
Ibrahim said he hadn't known that some gold mines in Mali's Gao region were partly controlled by Jama'at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin, or JNIM. But when he arrived in 2021, he recognized some of the men carrying Kalashnikovs. He used to play soccer with them around his village.
The local leader persuaded Ibrahim that joining the al-Qaeda affiliate would mean more money. The only requirement, he said, was reading the Quran daily.
Ibrahim signed on as a driver. He moved in with the group's members next to a mine at Tinaykaren, before shifting a few months later to N'tahaka, a far larger mining site.
About 200 JNIM members resided in structures of wood and plastic tarp beside the mines, where they controlled some of the tunnels, Ibrahim recounted. He said a team of six miners could gross up to $3,000 in a good week, though a JNIM leader would take half of the earnings. That leader would at times hand out cash gifts ranging from $150 to $500. Ibrahim bought himself an Android cellphone and sent money home frequently to his family.
Ibrahim had always considered himself a religious Muslim, praying five times a day and never touching alcohol, but his beliefs hardened. He came to believe that strict Islamic laws should replace those enacted by governments. He erased French rap music from his phone and downloaded apps to read the Quran and other Muslim writings. If he didn't have time to study the Quran, he said, he'd read a few chapters as he worked in the tunnels, sometimes more than 300 feet underground.
Most of their missions, he said, involved handing out Qurans in nearby villages and ensuring that sharia law was being followed. In some places, they collected zakat, or religious taxes. When trucks carrying cargo considered haram passed through their area, the fighters were ordered to intercept them. The strongest fighters carried out attacks against the Malian military and the Islamic State affiliate.
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Opening fire
The first time that Ibrahim fired his rifle in anger came shortly after his first mission. His team had set up a checkpoint on the road connecting the city of Gao with the Malian capital, Bamako.
As a small convoy of trucks came across the horizon and approached, Ibrahim and his fellow fighters opened fire. This time, the trucks didn't stop.
Ibrahim felt his body jerk backward as he repeatedly discharged his rifle. He saw the first truck topple over after the driver was hit. Then the drivers of the second and third trucks were struck, slumping forward in their seats.
When the shooting stopped, the team's leaders instructed the fighters to burn the trucks and bury the victims. Ibrahim said he believes there were four. He recited brief prayers over the bodies.
Ibrahim, center, with two friends in Niamey. Ibrahim with his friends.
Turning on each other
Sometime later, militants from the local Islamic State affiliate carried out an ambush against Ibrahim's fellow fighters in JNIM. When word got back, Ibrahim and dozens of others rushed to grab their guns. He jumped into the Toyota pickup and raced to the battle site, this time along with two other trucks and about 40 motorcycles.
Ibrahim focused on firing his rifle and saw men on the other side fall. Then he heard a scream. Behind a dune less than two dozen feet away, one of his comrades had been shot in the head and stomach.
Ibrahim kept firing, later comparing the fighters to soccer players who cannot stop for an injured teammate.
The battle ended after less than an hour. The JNIM team buried five of its members, and estimated they had killed 15 men on the other side.
The fighting troubled Ibrahim. Both sides said their cause was Islam, to install God's law. They should have been targeting the nonbelievers in the military and the government. Instead, they were killing each other.
'Together,' he lamented, 'we would have been invincible.'
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An execution
Ibrahim was patrolling with his team outside a village one day when his commander spotted a woman collecting wood for cooking without a hijab to cover her hair. They had seen the same woman a few weeks before, Ibrahim said, and had given her a warning and money for a hijab. But she had not listened.
His commander pulled out his gun. Ibrahim and a few other team members pleaded with him to reconsider. The woman screamed and cried, pleading for her life and another chance. The commander pulled the trigger.
Afterward, Ibrahim said, he could not sleep. He said he knew that the Quran forbids hurting women and children. He thought of his own sisters and mother, who didn't always wear their hijabs.
Within a month, he would get a call from a family friend urging him to come back to Niger.
Ibrahim eventually returned to Niger.
Temptation returns
One afternoon, Ibrahim and a half-dozen others who had defected from the militants gathered in a house on the outskirts of Niamey. They took turns playing voice messages they still received from friends in Islamist militant groups.
'Come back,' said one JNIM member. 'Why are you wasting your time?'
Ibrahim had returned to Niger after hearing about a program that aimed to reintegrate former fighters into society. But funding soon ran short. Plans to train and integrate the men grew unclear. Jobless, the men could afford to eat just one meal a day.
Ibrahim said dozens of men who had been part of the program left, and he suspected many were back with JNIM.
Ibrahim was tempted to join them.
As the sun set on a warm night, he took a drag on a cigarette and said he had tried to have patience. Then he shrugged. 'But patience has its limits.'