The Illegal Timber Trade Fuelling North-central Nigeria, Benin Terrorism
In the shadowy corridors of Nigeria’s counter-terrorism war, August 2025 marked a turning point that deserves more than just a passing glance. When National Security Adviser, Nuhu Ribadu announced the capture of Ansaru’s top commanders, it wasn’t merely another arrest—it was the dismantling of a sophisticated criminal enterprise that had effectively built an independent government within Nigeria’s borders .
The operation that captured Mahmud Muhammad Usman (alias Abu Bara’a) and his deputy Mahmud al-Nigeri (Mallam Mamuda) between May and July 2025 represents perhaps the most significant blow against the Al-Qaeda affiliate since its emergence in 2012 . But beyond the tactical victory lies a disturbing revelation about how terrorists govern when the state retreats.
What makes the Mamuda case particularly chilling is the operational sophistication of his “Mahmudawa” cell hiding in Kainji National Park—a vast, ungoverned terrain straddling Niger, Kwara, and extending into Benin Republic . This wasn’t just a hideout; it was the nucleus of a parallel society.
Before their capture, exclusive reporting by SaharaReporters revealed the extent of the group’s ambitions. According to the Emir of Yashikira, the Mahmuda group was actively forming an independent government in the forest, complete with its own legal system, taxation authority, and land allocation powers . Communities within their reach were forced to pay Zakat (Islamic tax) to terrorists rather than the state, and abide by laws dictated by armed men .
Perhaps most ingenious—and most damning for the security apparatus that allowed it—was the group’s funding mechanism. Rather than relying solely on kidnapping for ransom, the Mahmudawa cell struck a devil’s bargain with illegal loggers operating in the national park . After initial clashes, loggers negotiated access to harvest trees, and the militants found their “biggest opportunity to make money” by simply taxing the timber trade . Illegal logging—already an environmental disaster—became a war chest for terrorism.
This is the uncomfortable truth about modern insurgencies: they don’t need oil wells or foreign sponsors when ungoverned forests offer economic sovereignty. The Kainji National Park, left inadequately patrolled, became a free-trade zone for terror.
Mamuda himself brought international credentials to this domestic enterprise. Trained in Libya between 2013 and 2015 under jihadist instructors from Egypt, Tunisia, and Algeria, he specialized in weapons handling and IED fabrication . His network maintained active links with terrorist groups across Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso . This wasn’t a local bandit gang; it was a node in a transnational jihadist web.
The arrest operation itself deserves recognition. As Ribadu detailed, it was a high-risk, intelligence-led effort involving months of surveillance, human intelligence, and technical tracking across multiple agencies . The recovery of materials and digital evidence now undergoing forensic analysis could prove as valuable as the arrests themselves .
Since the arrests, the judicial process has moved forward.
Usman was sentenced to 15 years in September 2025 after pleading guilty to illegal mining charges—admitting he used proceeds to buy arms for terrorism . But he still faces 31 other counts, while his co-defendant Abubakar Abba (Mamuda) has pleaded not guilty to all charges . Their trial continues, recently adjourned.
Yet as we mark this victory, we must ask harder questions. How did a terrorist cell operate openly enough in Kainji National Park to tax loggers, allocate land, and enforce laws without detection? Why did it take until 2025 to capture men who had been on wanted lists for years ? And most critically, how many other “Mahmudawa cells” are currently building their own forest republics across Nigeria’s ungoverned spaces?
The fall of Ansaru’s leadership is indeed “the most decisive blow against the group since its inception” . But the conditions that allowed Mamuda to thrive—porous borders, unpatrolled forests, desperate communities turning to illegal logging, and economic actors willing to negotiate with terrorists—remain largely unchanged.
Ribadu has promised that Nigeria will “continue to pursue extremists with precision, resolve, and unwavering determination” . That determination must now extend beyond capturing commanders to reclaiming the territory they exploited. Because as long as Nigeria’s national parks remain sanctuaries for shadow governments, new Mamudas will emerge to tax the timber and terrorize the people.
