At some point, Boko Haram fighters had more ammunition than our soldiers, which showed that external groups were deeply involved – Goodluck Jonathan
Former President Goodluck Jonathan’s remark landed like a cold-weather warning in the middle of an already febrile national conversation: “At some point, their fighters had more ammunition than our soldiers, which clearly showed that external groups were deeply involved.” Spoken on October 2, 2025, at the public presentation of Gen. Lucky Irabor’s book Scars: Nigeria’s Journey and the Boko Haram Conundrum, the sentence did more than recount a security reality; it reopened a ledger of questions about how a domestic insurgency — born from local grievances — became a war that bled national capacity, fractured institutions, and drew in international actors.
This feature unpacks that warning. It’s an attempt to thread together the contours of a conflict that has reshaped northeastern Nigeria, altered lives across the Lake Chad basin, and reverberated in policymaking circles from Abuja to foreign capitals. Drawing on archival memory, public statements, documented timelines, and a plain reckoning with the state’s failures and occasional successes, this long-form essay argues that Boko Haram’s lethality and endurance were neither inevitable nor inexplicable. Instead, they were the result of a concatenation of ideological ferment, governance deficits, porous borders, illicit economies, and international dynamics — including the flow of arms and the movement of fighters — that together created an insurgent capacity that at times outgunned the state it fought.
1 — The sentence that haunts the room
In the crowded auditorium in Abuja where Scars was presented, Jonathan’s observation about ammunition was a succinct way to describe a complicated truth. It is one thing to say an insurgent group is ideologically motivated and another to say it is materially empowered. Ammunition, guns, rocket-propelled grenades, improvised explosive devices, communications gear, and the know-how to use them — these are the tangible axes on which battlefield advantage turns. When commanders on the ground say the enemy has more bullets, they are not conjecturing about morale; they are making an empirical claim about logistics, supply chains, and external enablers.
For a nation that has long treated its sovereignty as a theoretical constant, the image of insurgents arriving at engagements better armed than uniformed soldiers is a political body blow. It raises questions about border controls, corruption, the sophistication of arms trafficking networks, and the role that regional and global trends in terrorism financing and arms proliferation played in local battles.
2 — The making of an insurgency
Boko Haram’s origin is often dated to the early 2000s in Maiduguri, Borno State, under the leadership of Mohammed Yusuf. A preacher and local leader, Yusuf fused a message of social and religious reform with a sharp critique of the state’s corruption and the perceived immorality of Western culture. For several years Boko Haram was an uneasy, localized affair — a blend of charismatic preaching and group discipline, but not yet the mass-casualty insurgency that came later.
Its evolution into the violent and transnational force that shocked the world in the 2010s was neither instantaneous nor accidental. Several inflection points mattered: the extrajudicial killing of Yusuf in police custody in 2009; the leap to more extremist tactics under Abubakar Shekau’s leadership; the Arab Spring’s ripple effect, which made transnational jihadist narratives more resonant across regions; the expanding vacuum of governance in a part of Nigeria long neglected by central authorities; and the militarization and securitization of what were essentially social problems — poverty, unemployment, youth alienation, and political marginalization.
3 — The Chibok moment and the world’s attention
The abduction of 276 schoolgirls from Chibok in April 2014, and the partial release of some and apparent disappearance of many others, became a global symbol of the crisis. #BringBackOurGirls turned international grief into a moral campaign that forced Western capitals and diaspora networks to reckon with Nigeria’s internal strife. But the political fallout at home was enduring in ways that military hardware could not repair. It was a reputational wound that chronicled the state’s vulnerability rather than an incident that could be answered solely by troop deployments or weapons procurement.
4 — Why “more ammunition” is plausible: supply chains and black markets
Jonathan’s statement — that insurgents sometimes possessed more ammunition than soldiers — is plausible if we follow basic logistics reasoning. Weapons rarely appear out of nowhere; even when captured in battle, they need spare parts, rounds, maintenance, and secure lines of supply. Several channels help explain how insurgent caches could swell:
a) Capture and recycling. Over the course of many engagements, insurgents captured weapons from overstretched or poorly supplied local forces. The capture of small arms and light weapons in asymmetrical conflicts is a recurrent phenomenon; once a unit collapses or is routed, weapons and ammunition often become trophies and tools for the victor.
b) Smuggling networks. The Sahel and Lake Chad regions are crisscrossed by informal trade routes that predate colonial borders. These routes — originally used for goods and livestock — can be repurposed for weapons. The proliferation of small arms across West Africa since the 1990s has been documented, and illicit flows have repeatedly capitalised on weak customs enforcement and the complicity of officials at various levels.
c) International jihadist supply. The rise of Islamic State (ISIS) and its affiliates created new channels of funding, tactical training, and, in some cases, materiel. While direct state sponsorship from major powers to Boko Haram is not a dominant narrative in the public record, the resonance of transnational jihadist networks created opportunities for collaboration, training exchanges, and, crucially, a market for illicit arms and explosives techniques.
d) Black-market finance. Kidnappings, extortion, control of trade tolls, and the taxation of displaced populations created cash flows that could be used to buy arms. In this sense, the insurgents became actors in a war economy that funded their own logistical pipelines.
5 — External involvement: what “deeply involved” might mean
To say “external groups were deeply involved” is not necessarily to allege a single foreign government’s orchestration. The phrase covers a wide spectrum: non-state external actors, regional insurgents, transnational terrorist networks, diaspora financiers, and criminal syndicates. External involvement can include:
— Financing and donations from sympathisers abroad.
— Training exchanges and the circulation of fighters.
— Technical support such as bomb-making knowledge, communications encryption, and tactical doctrine.
— Direct supply of arms through intermediaries or theft from theatres of conflict elsewhere.
— Use of regional routes for moving fighters and materiel.
Evidence of external links to Boko Haram’s more hardline factions became clearer after elements of the group pledged allegiance to ISIS in 2015, a move that was more symbolic than an assured transfer of vast state-like resources but which nevertheless opened lines of ideological and tactical exchange. Similarly, the presence of foreign fighters — often a small but noteworthy number — complicates the narrative of a wholly domestic uprising.
6 — Soldiers versus soldiers: Nigeria’s military challenges
The Nigerian military, tasked with protecting a porous and vast geography, faced myriad constraints. Chronic underfunding, procurement delays, poor logistics, inadequate training for counterinsurgency, weak doctrine adaptation, and a history of politicisation constrained its effectiveness. There were also operational problems: poor intelligence sharing between federal and state agencies; bureaucracy in arms procurement; procurement corruption; lack of maintenance for existing equipment; and low troop morale due, in part, to irregular pay and poor living conditions.
When compared to insurgents who could move boxloads of captured ammunition or secure purchases through illicit markets, these institutional weaknesses can translate into battlefield disadvantages. Soldiers with inferior ammunition stocks are not simply outgunned; they are limited in flexibility, forced into more defensive postures, and more vulnerable to tactics that exploit those constraints.
7 — Governance deficits as the root enabling condition
Military intervention can blunt violence; it cannot, by itself, eliminate the structural grievances that fuel insurgency. Jonathan’s own emphasis on poverty, exclusion, and the need for a holistic approach is not sentimental coda; it’s a corrective to logic that treats insurgency as merely a law-and-order problem.
Northeastern Nigeria suffered from decades of underinvestment in education, healthcare, infrastructure, and employment opportunities. Young men — and some women — who found themselves with few legitimate pathways to economic security were susceptible to recruitment messages that fused religion, grievance, and the promise of purpose. Political exclusion, the perception of unfair distribution of resources, and corrosive local politics all made recruitment easier.
A comprehensive strategy therefore needs to include governance reforms: better service delivery, inclusion in political processes, transparent local resource management, targeted job creation programs, improved education curricula that mitigate radicalising influences, and accountable local governance that builds trust between citizens and the state.
8 — The Niger Delta comparison: a cautionary tale and partial model
Jonathan’s reference to his Niger Delta engagement — where dialogue, amnesty, and community investment helped to lower violence — is instructive because it highlights the limits and possibilities of different counterinsurgency approaches. The Niger Delta insurgency had its roots in economic marginalisation and extractive industry grievances. The amnesty program of 2009, coupled with development investments and reintegration programs, de-escalated much of the violence.
Yet there are essential differences. The Niger Delta militants were predominantly motivated by resource control and local grievances; Boko Haram’s mix of religio-ideological goals, transnational jihadist linkages, and willingness to target civilians differentiated it. Dialogue in the Niger Delta did not require confronting an uncompromising apocalyptic ideology. That said, Jonathan’s point remains relevant: a purely kinetic campaign that ignores underlying drivers will fail to produce sustainable peace.
9 — Regional dynamics and coordination failures
Boko Haram’s theatre spilled across borders. Chad, Niger, and Cameroon all experienced violence and accepted flows of refugees. The multinational military coalition — the Multinational Joint Task Force (MNJTF) — eventually became a critical front in coordinating operations, intelligence sharing, and jointly targeting rebel strongholds across the Lake Chad basin. But the coalition was never seamless. National priorities, rivalry, limited capacity, and sometimes conflicting rules of engagement diminished early coordination. Where the coalition succeeded, it was often because external partners — including Western states — supported logistics, intelligence, and training.
10 — International support: help, limits, and unintended harms
Many external partners offered support. Intelligence assistance, training programs, equipment donations (within legal frameworks), and humanitarian aid to affected populations were crucial. Yet these efforts sometimes had limits or unintended consequences. Foreign-supplied equipment without proper maintenance remains unused. Training that is not tailored to the local operating environment can be less effective. Aid flows, if poorly coordinated, can create dependency or fuel local tensions over distribution.
One of the more politically fraught aspects of external involvement is the optics of sovereignty. Too much foreign presence risks domestic political backlash, and too little risks abandonment of strategic objectives. Getting the balance right requires not only technical fixes but also a deft diplomatic and political calculus.
11 — Civil society, victims, and the social cost
The human toll of the insurgency is incalculable in the intimacy of grief and the weight of displacement. Millions were displaced, livelihoods destroyed, schools shuttered, and dreams deferred. The experience of victims — of Boko Haram’s brutality, of military excesses in some instances, and of the erosion of basic services — must remain central in any policy conversation. It is victims and survivors who will ultimately define the success of any stabilization program, not just the counting of killed fighters or captured weapons.
Civil society organizations — often underfunded and operating in risky environments — played crucial roles in documenting abuses, advocating for navigation of humanitarian corridors, providing services, and supporting reconciliation efforts. Strengthening these actors is not ancillary; it’s central to building a resilient social fabric.
12 — Policy evolution across administrations
From Yar’Adua to Jonathan, from Buhari to Tinubu, strategies shifted. There were phases of heavy kinetic emphasis; others brought more focus to regional coalitions or to restructuring the military command. Each administration faced its own political constraints and its own set of international relationships. The multiplicity of policy choices reflects not only evolving realities on the ground but also domestic political trade-offs: balancing electoral politics, military budgets, international relations, and public sensitivity to human rights.
What becomes clear in retrospect is that windows of opportunity existed for deeper institutional reforms — professionalizing logistics, reforming procurement, strengthening intelligence services, and investing in state capacity in the northeast. Unfortunately, these windows were often missed or only partially exploited, leaving cycle after cycle of reform promises and half-measures.
13 — Corruption and procurement: where bullets meet bureaucracy
The phrase “more ammunition than our soldiers” also invites interrogation of the procurement chain. When procurement systems are opaque, corruption can hollow out capabilities. Funds allocated for arms and logistics that are siphoned off or misdirected reduce ammunition stocks, degrade equipment, and damage soldier morale. Transparent procurement, accountability mechanisms, and civilian oversight of defense budgets are not merely democratic niceties; they are battlefield enablers.
14 — What success has looked like — and the limits of victories
There have been tactical successes. Towns have been liberated; many fighters captured or neutralized; some hostages freed; and humanitarian access improved at intervals. But military victory, defined as the complete eradication of insurgent ideology and networks, has proven elusive. The insurgency evolved — sometimes fracturing into splinter cells, sometimes rebranding, and sometimes turning to banditry or criminality. Victory in a classic sense is unlikely without durable political, economic, and social transformation.
15 — Recommendations: a forward-thinking pathway
If the national goal is durable peace, then policy needs to be multi-dimensional, sequenced, and patient-ended. Key components should include:
a) Strengthen logistics and procurement transparency. Auditable systems, civilian oversight, and procurement reforms can ensure that funds result in capabilities and not phantom contracts.
b) Invest in local governance and services. Rebuilding trust means delivering healthcare, education, and infrastructure that matters. Development is both deterrence and remedy.
c) Targeted economic programs for youth. Skills training, microfinance, and job linkages must be tailored to local markets so that alternatives to insurgency are credible.
d) Reconciliation and reintegration programs. For lower-level fighters who renounce violence, credible reintegration pathways reduce recidivism.
e) Regional cooperation and intelligence sharing. Border management, shared databases, and harmonized rules of engagement strengthen the coalition against cross-border movements.
f) Community protection strategies. Empower local communities with early warning systems, local defense capacity governed by law, and community policing reforms.
g) Victim-centred remediation. Reparations, trauma counselling, and civic recognition of suffering need to be part of the healing architecture.
h) International partnerships focused on capacity-building, not merely equipment donations. Training, maintenance, and doctrine development are long-term investments.
16 — The moral economy of conflict: narrative and counter-narrative
Ideology matters. Countering extremist narratives requires more than sporadic public messaging. It needs curricula that promote civic values, better-trained religious leaders who can provide alternatives to violent readings of scripture, and platforms for youth voices. A comprehensive counter-ideology effort is slow work; it must compete for hearts and minds over years.
17 — The politics of accountability
Holding people to account for procurement theft, human-rights abuses by security personnel, and political patronage schemes is politically fraught. Yet without accountability, cycles of impunity persist and feed the next generation’s grievances. Strengthening the judiciary, forensic audits, and protection for whistleblowers are key steps.
18 — A regional vision for the Lake Chad basin
Nigeria cannot heal the wound of insurgency alone. The Lake Chad basin requires a shared vision that addresses environmental stress — including a shrinking Lake Chad — which has exacerbated resource competition and displacement. Climate resilience, cross-border development corridors, and regional economic integration can reduce the appeal of illicit economies that insurgents exploit.
19 — The archive of experience: why documentation matters
Gen. Irabor’s Scars and similar accounts from commanders, civil society, journalists, and survivors form an essential archive. Institutional memory is a prerequisite for better policy. The temptation to bury inconvenient lessons in nationalist rhetoric should be resisted. Honest archival work — with transparent declassified assessments where possible — enables a future generation to avoid repeated mistakes.
20 — Closing reflection: the long shadow of arms and the longer arc of peace
Goodluck Jonathan’s offhand sentence about ammunition is shorthand for a larger truth: wars are fought with bullets and ideas; supply chains and social contracts. If at a point in the conflict Boko Haram’s fighters enjoyed more ammunition than our soldiers, then the nation faced not merely a security deficit but a governance and moral economy deficit. Fixing the former requires attention to the latter.
A sweep of tanks or more soldiers at the border will only buy time if the deeper causes are not addressed. Nigeria’s task is not just to disarm insurgents but to disarm the grievances that make insurgency attractive. That is a political, not merely military, project. It is also generational work — one that requires honesty about past failures, courage to reform institutions, and patience to rebuild social trust.
The nation has been scarred, and scars remember. But if scars are recorded as lessons and turned into durable institutional change, they can become the raw material of a more resilient state. The question we must ask ourselves now is not whether external actors supplied the bullets — they did, in part — but whether we will use this moment to make sure our own boxes are not empty the next time a crisis arrives. That will require policy, politics, and a moral resolve to make governance synonymous with security.