By Shehu Ibrahim Bakori
For years, communities across parts of northern Nigeria have lived under the shadow of recurring attacks, killings, kidnappings, and displacement. Entire villages have been uprooted, local economies crippled, and trust between citizens and the state severely strained. In the face of such relentless violence, it is understandable that the idea of negotiating peace agreements with armed groups generates intense debate.
Yet, while skepticism is natural and expected, a closer look reveals that dialogue and locally driven peace initiatives remain among the few practical options that have yielded noticeable relief in some communities.
There are two major groups that oppose peace agreements.
The first includes individuals who openly or secretly benefit from prolonged insecurity—whether within leadership structures, security institutions, religious circles, or the general public. Their interest lies in maintaining the status quo, and as such, engaging them in constructive discussion may not be productive.
The second group consists of sincere citizens who want an end to violence but doubt that dialogue can produce lasting peace. They often advance strong arguments based on past failures and the fear that negotiated agreements may simply give armed groups breathing space.
These fears deserve to be heard. However, critics rarely offer an alternative approach capable of delivering immediate relief to on-the-ground victims—relief that is urgently needed after years of unending violence.
What Is the Alternative? More Weapons? More Waiting?
Some argue that communities or security agencies simply need more weapons. But the harsh reality is that those calling for total military confrontation often do so from the comfort of urban areas or social media spaces—far removed from the villages where attacks occur.
The people who live closest to the violence—the farmers, herders, traders, women, and children who are displaced again and again—are the ones who most strongly support peace talks, because they feel the pain firsthand. They are also the least heard, many of them living in rural areas without access to social media or the time to engage in online debates.
For them, any initiative that reduces attacks quickly—even partially—is worth considering.
Experience from Jibia, Batsari, Safana and Dutsinma shows that where dialogue was pursued sincerely and monitored consistently, communities witnessed a significant reduction in attacks, killings, and cattle rustling. These successes demonstrate that negotiations, when carefully structured and reviewed over time, can produce tangible improvements in security.
This is why, instead of dismissing peace initiatives entirely, attention should be focused on understanding why they succeed in some places and face setbacks in others.
It is true that the first peace attempt in Bakori encountered challenges. Anyone who attended the initial meetings or monitored the process knows that certain misunderstandings, gaps, and implementation failures emerged early on.
However, those leading the initiative have since reviewed the shortcomings, met again with the armed groups, clarified expectations, and updated the terms of engagement. Community feedback indicates that in some of the most troubled parts of the area, attacks have reduced since the revised agreement took effect.
To properly measure progress, objective questions must be asked:
* What exactly happened after the second round of negotiations?
* How many attacks have occurred since then?
* How many people were killed, injured, or abducted?
* How many animals were rustled?
* Which commitments are being upheld, and which ones are being violated?
Only data-driven answers—not emotions—can fairly assess whether the peace effort is working or not.
Some worry that peace agreements undermine the military. But this is not the case.
The armed forces themselves have their clear mandate: to protect citizens whenever an agreement breaks down or where armed groups continue to attack. Community dialogue does not prevent security agencies from acting; it simply reduces the frequency of incidents that require force.
Moreover, those involved in peace talks do not have the authority or firepower to collect weapons from armed groups. Even in traditional warfare, defeated fighters can surrender a few guns and hide the rest. So insisting on total disarmament before talks can begin is unrealistic.
The key issue right now is not how many weapons exist, but whether those weapons are being used to harm communities. Once stability returns, government institutions can pursue long-term strategies for disarmament.
Most of the weapons used by bandits—especially AK-47 rifles—are prohibited for civilian possession under Nigerian law. Unfortunately, years of uncontrolled proliferation mean that both criminals and some civilians now possess them in unknown quantities, mostly through illegal channels.
Since retrieving these weapons instantly is impossible, the next best step is a credible agreement that stops their use against innocent people while pathways are created for eventual disarmament.
Despite its risks and imperfections, dialogue remains one of the very few pragmatic, immediate, and community-centered tools available today. It provides:
* Quicker relief for victims
* Space for security agencies to plan better operations
* Opportunities to build trust
* A reduction in casualties
* Restoration of economic activity
* A foundation for long-term stability and disarmament
Where it has worked, life has improved. Where it faltered, the solution is not to abandon it but to refine and strengthen the process.
Skepticism is valid. But it must be balanced with real-life experiences and evidence from communities that have tried both war and dialogue. Military force alone has not ended the crisis. Ignoring negotiations has not ended it either.
Peace agreements may not be perfect, but they offer a path—imperfect yet practical—toward reducing violence while more sustainable solutions are developed.
For the sake of the communities that suffer daily, the conversation should not be about rejecting dialogue outright, but about making it better, stronger, and more accountable.
Shehu Ibrahim Bakori is the former General Manager, Katsina State Radio.
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