The generals have redrawn West Africa’s borders, not with pens, but with power. On January 29, 2025, the military juntas running Niger, Mali, and Burkina Faso made it official that they were done with ECOWAS, the Economic Community of West African States that had held the region together for
decades. After a year of mounting tensions and brinkmanship, the three nations walked out the door, taking with them any illusions that this split could be patched over. What emerged from the rubble was something entirely new, a breakaway bloc they’re calling the “Alliance of Sahel States.” For the first time in its history, West Africa’s most important political institution has fractured, and no one quite knows what comes next.
Here’s what makes this moment so dangerous: each coup might have its own local spark, a corrupt official here, a rigged election there, but together, they’re creating a catastrophic chain reaction. Think of it like pulling support beams out of a building, one by one. State institutions crumble. Security forces scatter or turn inward. And in the spaces left behind? Jihadist groups, the very ones the world has spent billions trying to defeat, are moving in and setting up shop. Now that wave of instability, which started deep in the Sahel’s political heartlands, is washing up at Nigeria’s doorstep, threatening to turn Africa’s most populous nation into the next battlefield in a war that keeps expanding.
The Epicenter No One Wants to Be
To grasp how serious this is, you need to understand one stark fact: the Sahel has become ground zero for global terrorism. In 2022 alone, this stretch of scorched earth accounted for 43 percent of terrorism deaths worldwide. Let that sink in. Not South Asia. Not the Middle East or North Africa. The Sahel. More than all of them combined.
What’s feeding this nightmare? It’s not one thing, it’s everything at once. Governments that can’t or won’t deliver basic services. People fighting over water and farmland that’s disappearing thanks to climate change. Ancient ethnic tensions that flare into violence. It’s a toxic mix, and it’s been simmering for years.
Until recently, though, there was a glimmer of hope. Niger was supposed to be different. Western diplomats loved calling it the “last bastion of democracy in the Sahel” and the “last bulwark against jihadis.” President Mohamed Bazoum’s government was the golden child, a reliable partner in a region full of bad options. Niger sits right in the danger zone, caught between two terrorist hotspots: the Sahel region, crawling with groups tied to al-Qaeda and ISIS, and the Lake Chad Basin, where Boko Haram and its even deadlier offshoot, ISWAP, operate.
Then came General Omar Tiani. On July 26, 2023, he staged a coup, claiming the security situation had gotten too dangerous to leave in civilian hands. But here’s the cruel irony that experts and recent history make painfully clear: military takeovers don’t solve security crises. They’re gasoline on the fire.
How Coups Hand Victory to Terrorists
The way coups empower terrorist groups isn’t complicated. It’s brutally simple, actually, and we’ve watched it play out in Mali and Burkina Faso like a terrible script being performed over and over.
First, they create a security black hole. The moment a coup succeeds, the new junta has one obsession: staying in power. Soldiers who should be out hunting terrorists get pulled back to the capital to guard government buildings and protect the new boss. Command structures break down. Confusion spreads. And out in the countryside, in those dusty border towns where people are already barely hanging on? Security vanishes. Groups like JNIM, al-Qaeda’s local franchise, and ISIS-Sahel don’t waste the opportunity. They roll in, plant their flags, set up their own courts and tax systems, and face almost no resistance.
Second, they destroy cooperation across borders. Fighting terrorism in the Sahel isn’t something one country can do alone. These groups move fluidly between nations, so governments need to share intelligence and coordinate operations through networks like ECOWAS and the G5 Sahel force. Coups shatter that cooperation instantly. After Niger fell, ECOWAS slapped on crushing sanctions and threatened military intervention. Mali and Burkina Faso, both run by juntas themselves, responded by saying any attack on Niger would be a “declaration of war” against them too. Suddenly, borders that used to facilitate cooperation became battle lines. For terrorist groups, this fragmentation is a gift, they can move around freely while governments bicker and point fingers.
Third, they make the jihadists’ propaganda write itself. Here’s something easy to forget: groups like al-Qaeda and ISIS aren’t just armed gangs. They’re selling an ideology, competing with governments for people’s hearts and minds. Their pitch goes something like this: “Your government is corrupt, illegitimate, brutal, and can’t protect you or deliver justice. We can.” When a military junta seizes power, suspends elections, cracks down on dissent, and rules by force, it proves the jihadists’ point better than any propaganda video ever could. Trust in government evaporates. People don’t necessarily join the militants, but they stop resisting them. And that’s often enough.
Fourth, they push away the outside help they desperately need. Before the coup, Niger was a hub for international counterterrorism efforts. French troops from Operation Barkhane were based there. The U.S. ran two drone bases. The EU had training missions going. The moment the coup happened, all of that froze. France and the EU immediately suspended aid and security cooperation. The U.S. followed suit. Without that funding, intelligence, and military expertise, Niger’s ability to fight well-armed, well-organised insurgent groups collapsed.
Nigeria: The Next Domino?
This isn’t just Niger’s problem, and it’s certainly not staying contained within Niger’s borders. For Nigeria, the danger is immediate and personal.
Nigeria’s northeastern borders with Niger and Chad are already nightmare zones where Boko Haram and ISWAP launch regular attacks. Communities in Borno, Yobe, and Adamawa states have lived under threat for years. But now, the threat is evolving and expanding.
[b]With security coordination in Niger falling apart, ISIS-Sahel is exploiting the chaos near the Niger-Mali border and increasingly pushing into northwestern Nigeria. This means Nigerian forces, already stretched impossibly thin fighting insurgencies in the northeast [/b]and banditry across the northwest and north-central regions, now face a dangerous new front opening up.
Niger borders seven countries. When it destabilises, the shockwave ripples outward in every direction. It’s a critical node in the arc of instability that terrorists move through and exploit. As governance breaks down, you get a cascade of horrors: cross-border criminal networks thrive, refugees flee in massive numbers, humanitarian disasters deepen. This chaos makes it even harder for security forces to respond effectively, and it creates the perfect conditions for terrorist recruitment. Young men with no jobs, no hope, and plenty of anger are easy prey for extremist recruiters offering purpose and a paycheck.
The Wagner Factor
Then there’s the wildcard that could make everything worse: Russia’s Wagner Group. We’ve seen this movie before in Mali. After a coup, Western partners pull out in protest, and Russia’s paramilitary mercenaries swoop in, capitalising on anti-Western resentment and the junta’s desperation.
Wagner’s late owner, Yevgeny Prigozhin, was quick to celebrate Niger’s coup as “good news” and offer his fighters’ services. While it’s not certain Niger’s junta will take that deal, the risk is real and growing. Experts warn that if Western nations completely isolate the regime, the generals may turn to Wagner, likely trading access to Niger’s valuable uranium and other natural resources for security support.
The track record should terrify anyone. In Mali, Wagner’s presence has been linked to massacres like the one in Moura, where over 500 civilians were killed. Human rights abuses skyrocket. Violence against civilians becomes routine. Rather than winning hearts and minds, these tactics alienate entire populations and deepen the cycle of violence and radicalisation.
Breaking the Cycle (Or Trying To)
The coup in Niger isn’t just a national tragedy for Nigerians; it’s a regional catastrophe unfolding in slow motion. The standard international response, sanctions, ultimatums, isolation, might be necessary to defend democratic principles, but it comes with serious risks. Harsh economic measures hurt ordinary people most, making military rulers look like defenders against hostile foreign powers. This gives terrorist recruiters powerful ammunition: “See? The West doesn’t care about you. We’re all you have.”
The purely military approach has failed repeatedly, and pretending otherwise at this point would be delusional. One expert analysis put it bluntly: past experiences “point to an urgent need for a change in paradigm.” You can pour in all the Western or Russian troops you want, but if you’re not addressing the root causes, the crushing poverty, the absent governance, the climate change making resources scarce, the lack of economic opportunities, you’re just buying time until the next explosion.
The international community is walking a tightrope. They need to pressure juntas to restore democratic rule without completely disengaging and creating an opening for worse actors. The focus must shift to keeping dialogue channels open and, critically, sustaining support for humanitarian organisations and civil society groups that provide lifelines to vulnerable populations on the ground.
The stability of the entire West African region and the security of Nigeria’s borders, depends on breaking this vicious cycle where every coup becomes a victory for terrorism. The question isn’t whether Nigeria and its neighbours can afford to address this crisis. It’s whether they can afford not to.
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