Update your settings

Introduction
We do not wear uniforms. We do not answer to any law, any court, or any conscience. We move under the veil of night, through forests, hills, and dry riverbeds, crossing farmlands that we now call ours. Our name changes with every headline—"bandits," "terrorists," "herdsmen," "unknown gunmen"—but we know what we are: predators in a nation of sheep.
You ask why we strike? Why we raid Bokkos, burn villages, rape women, and butcher children? Because we can. Because the land is lawless and the government is toothless. Because fear is a weapon, and we wield it better than any army ever could.
______________
Power Grows Where the State is Absent
You believe the government will save you? You call on soldiers who arrive after the carnage to count bodies and make empty promises. We have seen it all before. They come with cameras, not conviction. Their voices echo on TV but not in the valleys where our machetes do the talking.
They call it Plateau State; we call it contested ground. And when they say "we are on top of the situation," we laugh—because we are the situation.
______________
Romans 13? That’s a Verse for the Dead
Your pastors preach Romans 13, urging obedience to a government that cannot protect you. Submission, they say, is godly. But we don’t submit to God, to man, or state. And we’ve seen how your prayers end: in shallow graves.
We have more faith in our knives than you have in your churches. We know your villages will wait for help that never comes. That’s when we strike—again and again.
______________
Bokkos Was a Message
You remember Bokkos? We do. We remember the way the flames danced on the roofs of Mandung-Mushu, the cries of women, the silence of men too stunned to fight back. That was not just a raid—it was a message.
We left that night knowing you'd wait for justice. You'd write articles, make speeches, and mourn. But we—we moved on to the next village, already planning the next assault.
______________
The Government Is Our Greatest Ally—By Doing Nothing
We don’t need government support. We just need its absence. Every delayed response is a green light. Every ignored intelligence report, a blessing. Every condolence visit is proof that the state only acts once we are gone, never when it matters.
We operate in a vacuum of leadership. Where there is no law, we are the law. And where security fails, terror flourishes.
______________
Villagers Wait. We Act.
You organize town hall meetings. We sharpen blades.
You write petitions. We load rifles.
You look to heaven. We come from the shadows.
And each time you hesitate, we grow bolder. Each time you plead for help, we tighten our grip. You are ruled by fear; we are fed by it.
______________
You Are Alone—And That’s the Point
You think the government doesn’t care. You're right. But more importantly, they can’t care. They are overrun, overwhelmed, over-corrupted. And we take advantage of that. Our strength isn’t just our weapons—it’s your isolation.
We’ve seen the patterns. Bokkos, Riyom, Barkin Ladi, Mangu—it’s all the same. The police station is too far. The army base is too slow. And in those precious hours before anyone arrives, we do what we came to do.
______________
The Weak Make Excuses. The Strong Take What They Want.
We do not seek negotiation. We do not ask permission. We do not feel guilt. This is not revenge. This is not justice. This is conquest.
And while you cling to civility, we tear through it like tissue. You wonder why we do it. But we wonder why you don’t fight back. Why do you still believe the same government that watches your children die will one day save them?
______________
We Know You Won’t Fight—That’s Why We Win
You are predictable. You cry to the media, you bury your dead, and you pray. That’s your routine. And we’ve learned it well.
But if you were to rise? To pick up arms? To meet fire with fire? Perhaps then we would think twice. Likely then we’d taste fear ourselves.
But you won’t. Not yet. Not while Romans 13 is still preached louder than the sound of gunfire.
______________
Conclusion: A Warning Disguised as a Confession
You want to know who we are? We are your nightmare made flesh. And we thrive in silence, in hesitation, in obedience. You always say, “It is well,” we sharpen our blades again.
This is not just a confession. It is a warning. If you do not defend yourselves, no one will. If you do not rise, you will fall. Again, and again.
(From the Perspective of the Locals Now)
1.    Why does the government always arrive late?
Because they are reactive, not proactive. The system is broken and overwhelmed.
2.    Should communities resort to self-defence?
Absolutely. If the state cannot protect you, self-defence is not only a right—it’s a necessity.
3.    Is self-defence legal in Nigeria?
Yes. Section 33(2) of the Nigerian Constitution allows for it in cases of unlawful violence.
4.    What about the risks of escalation?
There’s already an escalation. Doing nothing is more dangerous than doing something.
5.    What can be done now?
Organize. Strategize. Train. Don’t wait for help—be the help.