“Come Home, It’s Safe”: How Displaced Christian Families Were Exposed to Renewed Danger

For thousands of displaced Christian families in northern Nigeria, government assurances that it was safe to return home have proved deeply troubling.

Over the years, authorities have encouraged displaced residents to return to communities described as cleared of insurgents, promising improved security and a gradual restoration of normal life.

But some returnees and community sources say the reality on the ground has been far more complicated.

In parts of Borno State, residents have reported renewed attacks, abductions and insecurity after returning to communities previously affected by Boko Haram and Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) insurgency.

For some families, the journey home has therefore become another chapter in a cycle of displacement, captivity, hunger and fear.

A Son’s Broken Dream

For Luka Tada, a native of Ngoshe in Gwoza Local Government Area of Borno State, the promise of returning home has been overshadowed by the prolonged captivity of his mother.

Tada says his mother has spent more than 400 days in captivity in Sambisa Forest.

While military operations, negotiations and other interventions have resulted in the release of some captives, he says his mother remains in captivity under harsh conditions, exposed to extreme weather, inadequate food and the dangers of the forest environment.

Tada believes her continued captivity is connected to her refusal to abandon her Christian faith.

“After our initial displacement, all I wanted was to make my mother proud,” Tada told Globalvoice.

Determined to rebuild his family's life after years of displacement, Tada pursued his education and eventually earned a degree in accounting from the University of Benin in Edo State.

But the achievement was overshadowed by the absence of his mother.

“I went to university and studied accounting,” Tada said, “only to graduate as an orphan after losing everything to terrorists.”

His mother, however, remains alive according to his account, but continues to be held captive.

Tada says the knowledge that she remains in the hands of armed insurgents has turned what should have been one of the happiest moments of his life into a painful reminder of what his family has lost.

The Returnee Trap

Tada's family's experience is not the only account of displaced residents returning to communities where insecurity has not completely disappeared.

Samuel Bitrus, who spoke to Globalvoice, described what he believes is a broader pattern in which displaced Christian families who spent years in refugee settlements in Cameroon were encouraged to return to Nigeria after being assured that security had improved.

According to Bitrus, some families received financial assistance of approximately $300 per household and were encouraged to rebuild their lives in their communities of origin.

“It is not an isolated case,” Bitrus told Globalvoice. “Several Christians were lured to return with 300 dollars per household after spending 12 years in refugee camps in Cameroon, only to meet mass massacres.”

The allegations could not be independently verified by Globalvoice.

Reports from Borno have nevertheless documented continuing security challenges in areas where displaced residents have attempted to return.

The dangers include ambushes, abductions, attacks on farmers and restrictions on access to farmland.

For families returning after years in exile, the absence of effective security can turn the promise of homecoming into another source of vulnerability.

Between Exile and Insecurity

For those who remain in Cameroon, returning to Nigeria is not necessarily an easy choice.

Bitrus described the conditions facing displaced Nigerians in some refugee settlements as increasingly difficult, with families struggling to access adequate food, shelter and other basic necessities.

Those who return face a different set of challenges.

In Pulka, a town in Gwoza Local Government Area, thousands of internally displaced people continue to depend heavily on humanitarian assistance.

The security situation has also affected access to farmland in surrounding communities.

For families whose livelihoods depend almost entirely on agriculture, being unable to safely cultivate their farms can create another form of displacement, one in which people may technically be home but cannot rebuild sustainable lives.

Women and Children at Particular Risk

The vulnerability of women and children is especially acute in communities affected by Boko Haram and ISWAP activity.

Women and girls who are abducted can face prolonged captivity, sexual violence, forced marriage, forced religious conversion and psychological trauma.

Children may also be exposed to forced recruitment, ideological indoctrination and prolonged separation from their families.

Humanitarian organisations and security analysts have repeatedly warned that communities emerging from insurgency require more than the removal of armed fighters.

They also need sustained security, functioning schools and health facilities, access to farmland, humanitarian support and mechanisms for rebuilding trust between residents and security agencies.

Without those conditions, simply declaring an area “safe” may not be enough to make it genuinely safe for returning families.

The Gap Between Official Assurances and Reality

The Nigerian government has continued to encourage displaced citizens to return to communities affected by insurgency, pointing to military operations and improvements in security.

But displaced residents and community advocates say the definition of “safe” must extend beyond the absence of large scale military confrontations.

For a farmer, safety means being able to reach a farm without being abducted.

For a parent, it means sending children to school without fearing that they will disappear.

For a returning family, it means sleeping in their own home without worrying about an overnight attack.

And for families whose relatives remain captive, safety cannot be considered restored while loved ones are still being held in remote forest camps.

Nathan Ibrahim, an Abuja based human rights lawyer and security analyst, told Globalvoice that the experiences of displaced families demonstrate the gap that can exist between official security assessments and conditions experienced by civilians.

The continuing captivity of women and children, he said, highlights the need for authorities to measure the success of return programmes not simply by the number of people who physically return, but by whether those families can live safely and rebuild their livelihoods.

For families like the Tadas, the meaning of “home” has become painfully complicated.

It is the place they desperately want to return to.

But it is also the place from which they were forced to flee and where, according to families and community sources, some of their loved ones remain trapped in captivity.