Terminology

There are many related and overlapping terms used to describe the ways information can be manipulated as part of military strategy or to inflict harm on consumers. “Information operations” is an umbrella term that includes many different types of information manipulation. The difference between disinformation, misinformation, malinformation, and hate speech is in the truthfulness of the content being shared and the intent of the person sharing it.

Information operations: The strategic and calculated use of information and information-sharing systems to influence, disrupt, or divide society. Information operations can involve the collection of intelligence on specific targets, disinformation campaigns, and/or the recruitment of online influencers.

Misinformation: Inaccurate information that is unintentionally shared in good faith by those unaware that they are passing on falsehoods.

Disinformation: Information that is inaccurate, intended to deceive and shared in order to do serious harm.

Malinformation: Information that is based on reality, used to inflict harm on a person, social group, organization or country.

Hate Speech: Any kind of communication in speech, writing or behavior that attacks or uses pejorative or discriminatory language with reference to a person or a group on the basis of who they are, in other words, based on their religion, ethnicity, nationality, race, color, descent, gender or other identity factor. According to this definition, hate speech can only be directed at individuals or groups of individuals. It does not include communication about States and their offices, symbols or public officials, nor about religious leaders or tenets of faith.

*These definitions for misinformation, disinformation, malinformation, and hate speech are extracted verbatim from the UN Department of Peace Operations Policy on Information Integrity.

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Misinformation, Disinformation, Malinformation, and Hate Speech in UN Peacekeeping Settings

In many places where UN peacekeeping missions are deployed, MDMH is contributing to protection of civilians concerns. Disinformation campaigns are also increasingly targeting and posing a threat to peacekeeping missions themselves. In December 2023, the UN reported that its four African peacekeeping missions—MONUSCO in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), MINUSCA in the Central African Republic (CAR), MINUSMA in Mali, and UNMISS in South Sudan—were actively countering disinformation campaigns designed to undermine their credibility.³¹ A recent survey also showed that nearly half of UN peacekeepers believe misinformation severely impacts their work and safety.³² Although missions are moving to address this growing threat—in 2023, all four of these missions were mandated to respond to aspects of MDMH in some way—the tools and processes they have for doing so are still outmatched by the complexity of the MDMH landscape.

To better understand these dynamics, CIVIC undertook a desk review, consultations with a select number of key informants across countries where UN peacekeepers are or were recently deployed, and more in-depth data collection in South Sudan. The data collection in South Sudan was done in partnership with the Sentinel Project and consisted of surveys with 1,808 respondents (50.7 percent female, 49.2 percent male, and 0.1 percent other) as well as focus group discussions across six regions (Bentiu, Bor, Juba, Malakal, and Wau).

In many of the countries where UN peacekeeping missions are deployed, radio is the primary source of information for people, and it remains a highly trusted source of information.³³ While Internet penetration is still quite low in countries like the CAR, the DRC, Mali, and South Sudan, access to the Internet, use of social media, and use of mobile messaging applications such as WhatsApp have been growing, especially among youth. In the national and regional capitals of these countries, social media use is significant enough that the spread of MDMH on digital forums can influence the political and social landscape.³⁴ There is also an interplay between the spread of rumors online and offline, with some rumors beginning offline and migrating into the digital space, and vice versa.³⁵ Research participants also highlighted the outsized role that social media allows diaspora groups to play in shaping political and security narratives in both positive in negative ways.³⁶ In communities without access to Internet, limited availability of reliable information sources—including information about political processes and developments—can contribute to the spread of MDMH.

Notably, survey respondents and focus group discussion participants in South Sudan questioned the reliability of information shared on social media. These findings mirror those of a survey conducted in South Sudan by The Institute of Social Policy Research and DefyHateNow in which participants rated social media as the least trustworthy news source and the news source where misinformation was most prevalent.³⁷ However, some civil society leaders emphasized the importance of social media as a form of two-way information-sharing that allowed the active involvement of civilians in reporting concerns and monitoring events, particularly in settings where traditional media actors are being targeted by national authorities or struggle to operate because of insecurity or lack of financial investment.³⁸ As one civil society leader observed, “Radio is kind of uni-directional, although people call [in] to radios. People don’t speak to the radio. But social media is probably the medium that allows feedback, very immediate and reactionary feedback.”³⁹

Overall, 86 percent of South Sudanese survey respondents reported feeling that the spread of false information was a major problem in the country; 53.7 percent felt that the number of rumors circulating was increasing; 47.4 percent felt strongly that rumors were contributing to violent conflict in their area; 53.8 percent felt strongly that rumors were contributing to violent conflict in the wider country; and 67.9 percent could remember an example where rumors had caused increased tensions or violence between different groups. In cases where rumors had contributed to violent conflict, 60.1 percent felt that the information was shared with an intent to cause harm. Nearly 80 percent of the respondents felt that it was highly or somewhat important to stop rumors, but only half of the respondents felt they had the information necessary to determine whether rumors were true or false.

When considering the impact of MDMH on civilian security and well-being, stakeholders identified different types of MDMH with varied targets and potential consequences. One type of MDMH involves the spread of false or manipulated information about different ethnic groups to mobilize communities to commit violence against each other.⁴⁰ This type of MDMH might falsely claim, for example, that one community or ethnic group is preparing to attack another, has already committed an attack against another, or has stolen land that rightfully belongs to another group. Describing such campaigns, one civil society leader noted, “The person who might have engineered it definitely took that root [tension] to create a sort of misinformation to ignite that conflict or escalate an already existing conflict between cattle keepers and farmers.”⁴¹ Indeed, research in South Sudan highlights how the spread of these types of MDMH can be facilitated by preexisting ethnic divisions that have fostered an environment in which different ethnic groups have different sources of information and in which they distrust information originating from outside their ethnic group.⁴²

A second category of disinformation targets political actors to shape national politics in ways that can affect peace and security.⁴³ A third set of disinformation targets UN peacekeeping missions directly, as well as international non-governmental organizations and national human rights defenders. This type of MDMH seeks to discredit or undermine these organizations’ and individuals’ work in service of malicious actors’ political, military, and economic interests. Stakeholders identified, for example, a similar set of misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation circulating about peacekeeping missions across the CAR, the DRC, Mali, and South Sudan suggesting that peacekeeping missions are: supporting parties to a conflict militarily, such as by funneling weapons and ammunition to them; serving imperialist political agendas; illegally extracting natural resources; profiting from the corrupt diversion of aid resources; purposefully prolonging conflict for personal gain; responsible for sexual exploitation and abuse (SEA); and unresponsive to protection of civilians concerns.⁴⁴ Some peacekeepers have been responsible for cases of SEA and have undoubtedly failed to act effectively in the face of some protection threats. However, interviewees gave examples of efforts by malicious actors to prey on these legitimate grievances by publicizing fake cases where no abuse or failure by peacekeepers appears to have taken place or where these broad narratives were clearly pushed in service of political aims without clear evidence of harm.⁴⁵

One UN official, for instance, cited a case where peacekeepers shared information about an impending attack with national military leaders but were asked to stand down in favor of a response by the army. When the national military responded too slowly and civilians were killed, a malinformation campaign placed blame on the Mission, weakening trust in peacekeepers and allowing the military in question to escape blame. Speaking about the overall impact of misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation targeting political actors and peacekeepers, the UN official said, “We can see how the very localized mis- and disinformation machine starts producing fake news on a local level and shaping them, tailoring them for a lot of audiences. At the end of the day, it is done so that some much higher political interests are pushed forward, and these interests are not aligned with POC.” The official continued, “In relation to POC, these campaigns are indirect causes for our patrols being stopped in the same capacity that an IED [improvised explosive device] would have done. It doesn’t wound us physically, but it wounds our capacity to intervene and eventually kills us. … With a very small effort, it can destroy all of our efforts in establishment of a protective environment, good offices, and also in terms of physical protection if we are physically prevented from reaching an area. Then there is no POC.”⁴⁶

Disinformation and malinformation campaigns of this nature have been used to mobilize civilians against MINUSMA and MONUSCO, contributing significantly to calls for their withdrawal and a crisis of legitimacy and consent for UN peacekeeping missions.⁴⁷ And, notably, government actors in both the CAR and Mali have been credibly implicated in instigating disinformation campaigns against UN peacekeepers.⁴⁸

Other protection actors can also become targets of MDMH. For example, speaking about the targeting of human rights champions, a civil society leader in South Sudan told CIVIC that women advocating against harmful cultural practices that are still supported by many community members face disinformation campaigns. These targeted campaigns seek to discredit the women’s voices, circulate death threats, and spread abuse both online and off.⁴⁹

The spread of MDMH in countries where UN peacekeepers are deployed is fueled by a lack of timely access to reliable information. Disinformation in the CAR and Mali also increased following the deployment of Russian mercenaries, and much of it appears to have been fueled by civil society and media organizations with financial ties to Russia.⁵⁰ Indeed, stakeholders described a dynamic in these countries—as well as in other contexts where UN peacekeepers are deployed—in which new civil society organizations have mushroomed overnight. While these organizations claim to represent the genuine views and needs of civilians, many are in reality funded by national and international political actors. Other bloggers and social media figures in these contexts are not directly funded by political interests, but they are motivated to share sensational and false stories by the financial gain that comes with having a wide viewership.⁵¹

UN peacekeepers in many settings have a mandated role to play in responding to MDMH that threatens civilians, and missions have a strategic imperative to address misinformation, disinformation, and malinformation about their own activities and staff. The stakeholders CIVIC interviewed felt that, in 2023, UN missions had a greater awareness of the threat posed by MDMH as compared to previous years, and that a growing effort was being mounted to address it.⁵² These efforts include mission Public Information Officers (PIOs) identifying MDMH and counter-messaging, assisted with some tools and support from the UN Secretariat.⁵³ UN-supported radio stations are also a potent tool for missions to counter the spread of MDMH. Interviewees referenced radio programming designed to dispel rumors, as well as broader mission efforts to use radio stations as a platform to amplify the voices of civil society leaders and improve civilian access to reliable information.

However, mission efforts to tackle MDMH still appear to be too limited, ad hoc, and overly focused on MDMH targeting missions directly rather than MDMH targeting civilians. As one civil society leader stressed, “When we look at a peacekeeping mission and their mandate, the possibility of addressing these things, they can. There are great opportunities that are not being explored.”⁵⁴ A UN official previously deployed in Mali observed, “Certainly, in my time, we were more concerned about the campaigns that were targeting us, the misinformation and disinformation against MINUSMA, against peacekeepers and all that. But not so much talking about mis- and disinformation targeting somebody else.”⁵⁵ A second UN official shared, “I don’t think there is a clear mapping of where these campaigns go, who are the potential victims and perpetrators, and who we need to influence to move things. There is not this understanding, so without this understanding, anything the mission can do is ad hoc and because someone thinks it is a good idea to do. That probably comes from a good place, but it is not necessarily very structured or impactful.”⁵⁶ Moreover, missions struggle to keep pace with the rapid tempo of MDMH spreading on digital platforms, and they rarely communicate in ways and on platforms that civilians are using to communicate.

To address some of these challenges and shortcomings, missions should ensure that efforts to identify and prevent the spread of harmful MDMH is not only the work of PIOs or viewed through a communications lens. These efforts should be whole-of-mission undertakings and involve a cross section of peacekeepers with the skillset and knowledge to more rapidly identify and analyze MDMH, including staff working within human rights, political affairs, and civil affairs sections as well as in joint mission analysis centers. When it does not pose a risk to civil society to do so, missions, other UN entities, donors, and INGOs should also work more substantively to support credible community leaders, journalists, bloggers, and other members of civil society as fact checkers and credible voices to share accurate information.

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Addressing the Impacts of Mercenaries and Private Military and Security Companies on Civilians: Enforcing Norms and Ensuring Accountability

This article was authored by Sorcha MacLeod⁶⁵ and Jean-Michel Rousseau.⁶⁶ In March 2024, the University of Copenhagen and DCAF – Geneva Centre for Security Sector Governance brought together more than 50 experts for two days of advanced-level discussion and reflection on the legal and policy challenges of mercenaries and related actors in contemporary armed conflicts. The multistakeholder event was funded by an Advanced Research Workshop (ARW) grant from the NATO Science for Peace and Security Programme, with the authors as Co-Directors.⁶⁷ In addition, a panel during the 2024 Protection of Civilians week in New York (co-organized by the University of Copenhagen, DCAF, and CIVIC, among others⁶⁸) focused on how to protect civilians from harm by strengthening accountability for PMSCs. This article sets out some of the key conclusions and recommendations that emerged from these events to offer coherent insights into some of the regulatory and accountability challenges presented by PMSCs, mercenaries, and related actors in contemporary armed conflicts.

Protection risks to civilians resulting from the behavior and operations of PMSCs, mercenaries, and related actors are not new. However, private actors providing armed services for hire, such as mercenaries and PMSCs, have flourished across the globe in recent decades. In the case of PMSCs, where states have made conscious choices about the services they require and where those companies are properly regulated, overseen, and held accountable, they have the potential to increase state security and foster human security and regional security. Recurrent examples, nevertheless, show that mercenaries and PMSCs are frequently drivers of conflict, fragility, and instability.⁶⁹ The increase in their geographical presence, scale, and form in recent years has led to additional systematic harm to civilians, including risks of extrajudicial killings, torture, arbitrary detention, enforced disappearances, sexual and gender-based violence, and, in some cases, war crimes and crimes against humanity.⁷⁰ This risk is most acute in fragile contexts—including those with peacekeeping missions or which have seen recent mission drawdown or withdrawal—where PMSCs and mercenaries are employed by states or local elites as security partners in joint security or counterterrorism operations against non-state armed groups. In some cases, they operate as proxies for third-party states advancing clear geopolitical goals, and their presence frequently drives natural resource extraction.⁷¹ Recent research has also highlighted additional compounding risks to civilians, including forced recruitment by and deployment with PMSCs and mercenaries, underscoring the global nature of the problem, which includes contexts such as Libya, Central African Republic, Mali, Sudan, Yemen, Syria, Ukraine, Haiti, and Colombia, among others.⁷²

The importance of regulation

The visibility of mercenaries during the Cold War as well as PMSCs in the 1990s and 2000s, including concerns about their behavior and, in particular, their impacts on human rights and humanitarian law, led to international efforts to create a corpus of binding and soft law texts. These efforts resulted in the International Convention against the Recruitment, Use, Financing and Training of Mercenaries; the Convention for the Elimination of Mercenarism in Africa; the Montreux Document on pertinent international legal obligations and good practices for States related to operations of private military and security companies during armed conflict; and the International Code of Conduct for Private Security Providers.⁷³ In addition, discussions about an international instrument on the regulation of PMSCs have been ongoing at the UN since 2010 in an intergovernmental working group. A Revised Third Draft of the instrument served as the basis for inter-state negotiations in April 2024, and further deliberations will take place in late 2024.⁷⁴ Civil society actors, regulators, and academics are also involved in the process, among others. It is clear, therefore, that neither mercenaries nor PMSCs operate in a legal vacuum.⁷⁵

The existing frameworks comprise a body of norms and good practices that have proven their effectiveness—when implemented (an important caveat). A 2022 study reviewed how states hire PMSC services and concluded that “the rate of civilian victimization decreased by 72%” when a state supports the Montreux Document.⁷⁶ Meaningful reforms have taken place in contexts where multi-stakeholder processes bringing together public institutions, civil society, and the private sector have jointly formulated recommendations and driven their implementation.⁷⁷ However, insufficient political will means these frameworks still often remain insufficient, human and financial resources for regulation are lacking, external oversight of PMSCs is not fostered, and mercenaries are often poorly regulated, if at all.

The importance of accountability

Accountability for harm caused by PMSCs and mercenaries is the area where there has been least progress to date. Attributing responsibility, leading investigations, and holding both individuals and states accountable at national, regional, and international levels is notoriously difficult. Both criminal prosecutions and remedies for victims are rare.⁷⁸ Access to justice is chronically inadequate and can be actively obstructed. A sense of impunity surrounding the operations and behavior of PMSCs and mercenaries stemming from these accountability challenges is likely a contributing factor in their expanded use and the resulting increased risks of direct harm to civilians. Further, civil society, NGOs and other actors may be subjected to threats, intimidation, and reprisals for monitoring and reporting on PMSC and mercenary activities, as well as for their efforts toward seeking justice.

The promotion of accountability requires deeper consideration by states, civil society, inter-governmental organizations, and media, among others, to the role of: international and regional conventions and norms; international, regional, and national courts; and ad-hoc tribunals. Accountability must also include the provision of reparation and remedies for victims. Improving accountability for harm caused to civilians by PMSCs and mercenaries is essential to preventing future violations and the further unregulated spread of these actors. These are all issues that are being addressed by the recently launched MERCURY project at the University of Copenhagen funded by the European Research Council, which aims to identify viable pathways to accountability for victims of mercenaries and related actors.⁷⁹

The way forward

PMSCs, mercenaries, and related actors are not a new phenomenon, but their contemporary use exhibits novel characteristics, especially around their opaque relationships with states, predatory recruitment practices, and the scale of atrocities committed. Moreover, they are different from other for-profit actors in that they fundamentally challenge good security sector governance (and corresponding security sector reform programming) as understood by all multilateral and regional organizations for two decades. States, as well as international and regional organizations, have struggled to react to these new challenges, adopting disjointed, disparate, and arguably ineffective responses to date. This is often due to fundamental misconceptions about the nature of these actors and the legal and policy frameworks within which they operate.

What is thus required is a multi-pronged approach to address the systemic risks and challenges posed:

1. Knowledge production and dissemination: it is paramount to dynamize research networks and coalitions, in Europe and North America, but particularly on the ground, because they have privileged access to information about abuses perpetrated by these actors and their credibility helps counter disinformation promoted by and about PMSCs and mercenaries. Crucially, it is also important to ensure effective protection of local researchers, some of whom may be at risk from some PMSCs and mercenaries, to ensure the documentation of atrocities and preservation of evidence.

2. Tracking new developments: while the sector overall is one that has been around for decades, it keeps growing continuously both in terms of services and geographic spread. It is important to analyze and understand new and emerging elements such as illicit financing, links with organized crime, the growing use of artificial intelligence by PMSCs, and regional developments such as in the Asia-Pacific region where the use of PMSCs for both economic and geopolitical reasons is growing yet understudied.

3. Government action: governments need to lead by example when it comes to national regulation of mercenaries as well as of PMSCs, and they need to contribute to the development of norms, as only effective national approaches will give them legitimacy to push for stronger international rules. States should support existing international initiatives such as the International Convention against the Recruitment, Use, Financing and Training of Mercenaries, and the Montreux Document, as well as engaging in the UN’s Open-Ended Intergovernmental Working Group on PMSCs. Finally, there is a pressing need to fund capacity-building for regulation, oversight, and accountability, particularly in fragile and conflict contexts.

Mercenaries and PMSCs do not operate in a legal vacuum. A wide array of international norms and tools can and should be used to regulate them. What is missing is the political will at the national level, and sufficient regional and international pressure to make it happen. In its absence, impunity will endure, and civilian populations will continue to experience atrocities perpetrated by these actors without recourse or access to justice and remedy.

The Intersection of Climate Change and Conflict in Northeast Nigeria

This research was designed and implemented by Odinakaonye Lagi and Zainab Onuh-Yahaya through the Network of University Legal Aid Institutions-Nigeria (NULAI). Lagi and Onuh-Yahaya authored this article.

In northeast Nigeria, climate change-induced stressors are converging with conflict dynamics to drive water scarcity, deeply disrupt farming practices, and undermine civilian food security. Scarcity can fuel intercommunal tensions. At times, the behavior of state security forces, as they attempt to combat armed non-state groups (ANSAs), can contribute to civilian food insecurity and environmental degradation. The effects of these changes are felt by all community members, but not equally. Persons with debilitating illnesses and disabilities face additional barriers in accessing scarce resources. Women and men are affected differently by the multiplied effects of climate change and conflict on water and food security.

The arid regions in northeast Nigeria have experienced deviations in recent decades from established climatic norms and face substantial challenges from drought, desertification, and land degradation.⁹⁰ Daily rainfall and sea-surface temperature data from 1986 to 2019 for Maiduguri in Borno state reveals a significant and continuous increase in sea-surface temperatures, which can impact the variability of rainfall.⁹¹ In Yobe state, desertification has occurred at a rate of approximately 0.37 miles per year (0.6 kilometers)—with over 20 houses buried under sand dunes annually—and has severely affected living conditions, leading to displacement and scarcity of arable land.⁹² Desert encroachment has also led to a significant decline in the number of available trees, further contributing to altered rainfall patterns, rainfall shortages, and water scarcity in both states.⁹³

In Yobe and Borno states, Jamaat Ahlussunah li-Dawa wal-Jihad (JASDJ)—often referred to colloquially as Boko Haram—and its splinter group, the Islamic State in West Africa Province (ISWAP), are the primary perpetrators of violence against civilians.⁹⁴ The conflict between these ANSAs and state security forces has caused widespread displacement, triggered a humanitarian crisis, contributed to the loss of access to arable lands, and driven scarcity-induced conflict between herders and farmers.⁹⁵ Such conflicts have been on the rise since 2020.⁹⁶ From 2020 to 2024, more than 78 farmlands and 2500 inhabitants were affected by farmer–herder conflicts that destroyed civilians’ means of livelihood, leaving them stranded and dislocated with households burnt and livestock carted away.⁹⁷

Bama in Borno state is one of the communities in northeast Nigeria worst-hit by ANSA violence, hosting about 50,000 internally displaced persons (IDPs). NULAI researchers interviewed 12 civilians (six women and six men) in Bama in May 2024 to ascertain their views on the interplay between climate change impacts and armed conflict dynamics, including gendered protection concerns arising from these factors.⁹⁸ These civilians affirmed that climate change has resulted in erratic weather conditions, including shorter and less predictable rainy seasons, reduced rainfall in some years, delayed onset of rain, higher temperatures, and hot winds.⁹⁹ These environmental changes have contributed to water shortages and undermined civilians’ ability to farm and feed themselves and their families. “Nobody has started planting this season,” shared one civilian. They continued, “Everyone is complaining about the lack of rainfall. Our elders say the world is changing.”¹⁰⁰ Another civilian affirmed, “Rainfall has affected us because there is no water. … Even the little water that we have cannot sustain because of the heat. … My watermelon planted in the bush, the temperature burned it, and I lost almost 500,000 naira.”¹⁰¹ According to Bama residents, men have somewhat better access to information about climate change and its likely impact on livelihoods than women in the community.¹⁰²

Civilians in Bama also described how the tactics of JASDJ and ISWAP during their decades-long armed insurgency have disrupted access to water and food production systems in Bama—primarily fishing and farming.¹⁰³ Farmers run the risk of being killed by Boko Haram and ISWAP if they try to farm or carry out other livelihood activities like firewood-gathering 10 kilometers beyond the military trenches, thereby confining them to less fertile and overused land near military-protected areas. “The lands are not accessible due to Boko Haram activities. And even if you can farm, you can't harvest. Boko Haram will harvest your farm,” said one woman.¹⁰⁴ Echoing this concern, another woman in Bama said, "Boko Haram will not let us go in to do our farming activities. They usually intensify their attacks during harvest season and take away farmers’ successful harvests”¹⁰⁵

While some waterways have dried up as a result of climate change, others are inaccessible to civilians because of JASDJ’s presence and the threat it poses. Underscoring the intersection of these challenges, one man noted, "I discussed this with a fisherman. I asked him about the availability of fish this year and last year. He said last year he had two bags of fish in his home, but today he doesn't have even a small portion of fish in his house. He told me when they go far to fish, Boko Haram will chase them away. And the rivers that were safe to fish had all dried up.”¹⁰⁶ JASDJ has also been exacerbating the water shortages caused by climate change by directly vandalizing water infrastructure. According to a community leader in Bama, “[After] Boko Haram invaded the Bama community when they were trying to leave the community, they spoiled most of the boreholes. [For] some they removed the borehole, some they cut the pump and then fill[ed] it up with sand and stones so that if people return, they will find it difficult to have water. … That has led to water unavailability in the community.”¹⁰⁷ JASDJ and ISWAP violence has also caused an influx of internally displaced persons (IDPs) to the towns, imposing an additional strain on host communities who already struggle with restricted access to land and other resources. One IDP told NULAI that he faces additional challenges in accessing water because of his status as a displaced person. He said, “I get drinking water in the camp, but it is not enough for us because of our population. Sometimes we have to go to the town to fetch water. And sometimes people outside the camp discriminate against us because we are IDPs.”¹⁰⁸

National security forces have dug trenches around Bama, intended as deterrents or barricades marking safe areas for community members. However, the fields within these perimeters can only provide sustenance for a very small fraction of the population, as there is insufficient space for crop cultivation.¹⁰⁹ According to civilians in the community, state security forces have limited the hours when they can access agricultural fields beyond these perimeters. “They don’t allow people to go to the farm early in the morning. … Sometimes they will only allow people access to the bush around 10:00 am, and the time is not appropriate to go to the farm.¹¹⁰ Security forces have also imposed restrictions on the variety of crops that can grow tall.¹¹¹ “We are told to plant crops that don't have long stems like maize.”¹¹² Another participant further explained, “Instead, we are planting low crops like groundnut, okra, and cowpea.”¹¹³ While these restrictions are meant to aid the national security forces in their fight against ANSAs, they also negatively impact food diversity and create additional barriers to food security.

Water and food scarcity driven by climate change and conflict are experienced and addressed differently by different members of the Bama community. Describing the differential impact of water shortages on women, one participant stressed, “Women and girls are responsible for fetching water. Women are suffering to get water. Whether pregnant or elderly, women are the ones that fetch water. Men don't fetch water. And if you couldn't go to fetch you would have to buy 25 liters at 50 Naira and manage it. … You must use water to perform ablution, bathe, wash children, and wash clothes, when you fetch in the morning you have to fetch again at night. We have water problems.”¹¹⁴ Indeed, women in Bama and other parts of Borno and Yobe states have tried to adapt to the water scarcity by creating a new "water culture," known as Adashen ruwa, where water is reciprocally loaned out for events such as childbirth, weddings, and naming ceremonies. For these women, this practice is one of the ways they care for each other in a community where mutual support is crucial.¹¹⁵ Meanwhile, two Bama residents with disabilities recounted to CIVIC the added struggles they face in reaching and obtaining water at crowded boreholes where tensions among community members are high. They also noted that rising temperatures make their already difficult physical endeavors more challenging and exacerbate underlying medical issues.¹¹⁶

With farmland and firewood near towns limited and depleted, civilians have to travel further to access fertile farmland and fuel, which places them at risk of encountering NSAGs. Civilians told CIVIC that it is usually women who venture far from towns to farm and collect firewood because these responsibilities often fall to women in their society and because ANSAs will kill men but usually inflict non-lethal forms of harm on women. Thus, women risk illegal taxation, sexual violence, and abduction at the hands of ANSAs.¹¹⁷ A woman shared one such experience of encountering JASDJ with NULAI: “While trying to pack all the wood that [we] can fetch and trying to tie it, some people notified us that, ‘here they are coming, here they are coming.’ So [we] just left the firewood and ran away. So, while running, sometimes they will still come just in front of you to surround you and you can’t escape. But [I] escaped with no shoes, that was how [I] escaped.”¹¹⁸

Bama residents also told NULAI that the national security forces and ANSAs directly contribute to environmental degradation and altering local microclimates by cutting down trees to aid their operations. Detailing this phenomenon, one man shared, “Both military and Boko Haram fell down trees to clear the bush, and that leads to hot weather and hot breeze coming in. Even if you plant, it’ll dry up.”¹¹⁹ A community leader likewise detailed this vicious cycle, where the loss of trees leads to harsher farming conditions, further reducing agricultural productivity: “Due to this felling of trees in the bush, there is heat flowing into the town. … Before there were a lot of trees in the farm that would intercept the wind. … But now with the absence of these trees, the impact of the sunlight is coming directly to the farmland and if it does not rain for two to three days it will burn or kill the crops.”¹²⁰ Describing these negative coping mechanisms, one woman said, “People are saying that big trees should not be cut down because the big trees are our lifeline. But people are still cutting them down.”¹²¹ The convergence of climate change and armed actor tactics to erode community water and food security has further fueled this deforestation and conflict: some civilians have themselves turned to felling trees for firewood and charcoal in the absence of other livelihoods, while other community members—particularly young men—risk their lives by providing labor and other types of assistance to ANSAs in exchange for payment, or they join them.¹²²

Some civilians felt that the security forces could play a role in preventing deforestation and managing natural resources.¹²³ However, this would need to be accompanied by livelihood support to rebuild their lives and reduce reliance on tree felling as a source of income.¹²⁴ A civilian commenting on this dynamic said, “The security forces can use force to stop people from cutting down trees. But that will affect people because people don't have any means of making a living.”¹²⁵