From Borno to Baidoa, jihadist groups are using food denial and aid distribution as tactical tools of war. Food insecurity in Nigeria and Somalia has become both a weapon and a battleground for terrorist groups like Boko Haram and Al-Shabaab, fueling recruitment, governance collapse, and humanitarian catastrophe.

In modern African warfare, the deadliest weapon may not be the bullet—but the biscuit.

Across Nigeria and Somalia, jihadist groups like Boko Haram and Al-Shabaab have turned hunger into a tool of control, a psychological weapon wielded to punish dissent, reward loyalty, and replace state authority. As food insecurity grows, these groups exploit famine and deprivation to expand their influence—and choke off resistance.

The implications are devastating: starvation isn’t a side effect of violence. It is the strategy.

In northeast Nigeria’s Borno State and southern Somalia—two epicenters of jihadist insurgency—food is being weaponized on two fronts. First, as a lure: distributing rice, flour, and spaghetti to desperate communities in lieu of absent state services. Second, as a cudgel: torching crops, poisoning wells, banning fishing and farming, and blockading humanitarian aid—all to isolate communities, punish state collaborators, and ensure dependency.

Al-Shabaab, for example, blockaded entire famine-stricken regions during Somalia’s 2011–2012 crisis, refusing international aid and letting thousands die rather than concede an inch of influence to the West. Boko Haram has done the same in Nigeria, denying access to farmers and raiding food convoys.

But like all cruel strategies, the backlash is brewing.

The very famine they sow is now undermining the militants themselves. Both Boko Haram and Al-Shabaab face internal collapse, with growing reports of fighters defecting or surrendering in exchange for food. Militants, once feared, are now starving—looting villages and alienating the very populations they once claimed to protect. In Somalia, this has triggered armed resistance by pastoralist militias. In Nigeria, Boko Haram has been forced to shift operations across borders, seeking sustenance in Chad and Niger.

This isn’t just a humanitarian crisis. It’s a strategic moment.

If African governments and international partners move swiftly, they can exploit this opening. Food security must become a counterterrorism priority, not just a development goal. Delivering aid faster than insurgents, restoring trade routes, and strengthening local agriculture can break the cycle of manipulation.

Where the state fails to feed, the terrorists will. But where food flows, hope—and resistance—follows.

Now is the time to starve the insurgencies, not the people.

Puntland’s Operation Hilaac proves local defense forces can outmaneuver ISIS in Somalia’s rugged terrain—offering a model for reclaiming territory and dismantling terror strongholds.

In a stunning reversal against Islamic State’s Somalia branch (ISSOM), Puntland’s Defense Forces have scored decisive victories in Operation Hilaac, reclaiming strategic territory across the Cal Miskaad mountain range. Unlike the often-fragmented federal efforts, Puntland’s success showcases what disciplined, locally backed forces can achieve, even with limited resources.

Commanded by Gen. Mohamed Mohamud Faadhigo, PDF forces, alongside the Darawish paramilitaries and maritime police, cleared more than 315 km and 50 insurgent outposts. This is no minor feat—it represents one of the few successful large-scale offensives against a battle-hardened jihadist network backed by foreign recruits and drone warfare technology.

Reports indicate ISSOM has drawn fighters from Morocco to Tanzania, many with tech backgrounds. The group’s increasing use of thermal drones and suicide ambushes points to a dangerous evolution. Yet, Puntland’s tactics—terrain mastery, clan cooperation, and relentless pressure—have disrupted ISSOM’s momentum.

However, PDF commanders warn that victory remains fragile without the proper tools. Officials are calling for international assistance: drone jammers, night-vision gear, and advanced IED defusal kits. With 27 bomb technicians already lost, the need is urgent.

What makes Puntland unique is not just its success—but its intention to project that success nationwide. Once Operation Hilaac wraps, forces will move south to assist in Middle Shabelle against al-Shabaab.

President Said Deni’s message was clear: “Puntland is part of Somalia. We are obliged to contribute to the defense and stabilization of the nation.”

In a fractured Somalia, this is more than military news—it’s a strategic turning point. Puntland’s model may be the template Somalia needs: indigenous, disciplined, and unapologetically local.

Africa’s Bloody Clock: Every 3 Hours, Terror Wins —From Burkina Faso to Somalia, terror is swallowing nations. The Sahel now leads the world in extremist violence — and the world is barely paying attention.

Every three hours in Africa, terror strikes. Forty-four people die. Civilians, children, farmers, doctors — all vanish into silence. While the world obsesses over Ukraine or Gaza, Africa bleeds in near invisibility. The Sahel, once a buffer zone between Sahara and savannah, is now the deadliest war zone on Earth.

Burkina Faso has become ground zero. Nearly 2,000 deaths in a year. A 2,800% increase in terror fatalities in 15 years. What began as a low-grade insurgency has metastasized into a transnational epidemic stretching from Niger to Mozambique, from Lake Chad to the Red Sea.

The Islamic State has planted its flag in five regions. Al-Qaeda franchises are digging trenches. And while Western drones circle from the sky, the actual battlefield is collapsing beneath the boots of untrained conscripts, unaccountable mercenaries, and juntas armed with slogans but void of strategy.

What has the response been? Blunt force. Coups. Silence. The junta in Niger has killed more civilians in one year than its elected predecessors did in five. The juntas aren’t crushing terror — they’re feeding it. Every abduction, every burned village, every blocked school becomes a recruitment poster for extremist groups who promise “protection” with a Kalashnikov.

And now the wave is spreading to the coasts. Benin, Togo, Ghana — they were once out of reach. No longer. The number of attacks in coastal West Africa has spiked by 250%. The W National Park in Benin is now a hideout for killers. Islamic State–Somalia is reportedly led by IS’s new global commander. This is no longer Africa’s problem. It’s the world’s.

Here’s the brutal truth: Africa is not losing the war on terror. It was never given a fair shot. External actors parachuted in with weapons and left without governance. Regional bodies lacked funding. Civil society was ignored. The world handed a match to fragile states sitting on a powder keg and now pretends to be surprised by the explosion.

It is time for something bolder. Smarter. African-led, civil society–driven, and brutally honest about what’s working — and what isn’t. AU Chair Moussa Faki said it best: “The time for speeches is over.” We either fight the root causes now — poverty, injustice, failed governance — or prepare for a future where entire African regions fall under permanent extremist control.

Silence is no longer neutral. It is complicity.

Somalia on the Brink: Uganda Demands Immediate African Union Action as Al-Shabaab Surges

The Horn of Africa is burning again—and this time, the warnings are louder than ever.

Uganda’s Defense Minister Jacob Marksons Oboth sent an explosive warning to the African Union Friday, declaring that Somalia’s security architecture is collapsing under a new wave of Al-Shabaab terror. Speaking at an emergency Troop Contributing Countries (TCCs) meeting in Kampala, Oboth bluntly stated that Somalia risks “losing the hard-earned gains we fought so hard to achieve” unless African forces act decisively.

The timing couldn’t be worse—or more revealing. Just 24 hours earlier, Al-Shabaab launched a devastating assault on the Somali army’s second-largest base at Wargaadhi in Middle Shabelle, exposing the grim reality: despite years of international counterterrorism efforts, the militants are back, organized, and striking at the heart of Somalia’s fragile institutions.

Oboth’s remarks were a call to arms—and a warning of wider regional collapse. “The threat of terrorism remains real and immediate,” he said, emphasizing that Al-Shabaab’s resurgence threatens not just Somalia’s unstable federal government but also the Horn of Africa’s broader security fabric. If unchecked, this could rapidly devolve into a continental crisis.

The African Union Support and Stabilization Mission in Somalia (AUSSOM)—the successor to AMISOM since 2024—was supposed to be the solution. Instead, its phased drawdown of peacekeepers has created lethal power vacuums across central and southern Somalia. Al-Shabaab has wasted no time exploiting these gaps, launching relentless raids, reclaiming territory, and reigniting fears of a new dark age in Somalia.

Despite intensified counteroffensives by Somali and AU forces, the facts are clear: Al-Shabaab is not beaten. It is regrouping, recalibrating, and refilling its ranks, aiming not just to survive, but to conquer.

Uganda’s urgent call puts brutal pressure on the African Union and international partners: reinforce Somalia now—or prepare to watch the entire Horn of Africa descend back into chaos.

This isn’t just Somalia’s war anymore.
It’s the region’s fight for survival.

Khadra Issa, alias Ummu Qaqaa Somalia, named as top ISIS operative as U.S. intensifies hunt for diaspora-linked extremists

The U.S. government has put a $5 million bounty on the head of Khadra Issa, also known as Ummu Qaqaa Somalia, a Somali-born Dutch national accused of serving as a key recruiter, propagandist, and operative for ISIS. Her case sends a chilling message: ISIS is no longer confined to the ruins of Raqqa—it’s networked, mobile, and still recruiting, often through diaspora channels.

Issa’s profile paints a dangerous archetype. Fluent, digitally agile, and invisible for years, she allegedly helped orchestrate suicide bombings, child concealment, and online radicalization—while operating far from the battlefields. Most shocking is her alleged role in hiding two American children after their mother died in a U.S. airstrike. The fate of those children remains unknown, a haunting reminder of ISIS’s global entanglements.

Her name is now featured on the Rewards for Justice program’s most-wanted list. This designation means the U.S. considers her a high-priority target—someone embedded in extremist networks still capable of regenerating threats worldwide.

Washington’s move is not just punitive—it’s strategic. With ISIS’s territorial grip gone, its strength lies in the shadows: in encrypted apps, digital outreach, and transnational sympathizers like Issa who blur lines between citizen and combatant.

Security experts warn that Somali-origin operatives have become critical nodes in ISIS’s decentralized revival strategy. These individuals often possess EU or Western passports, allowing them to cross borders, mask affiliations, and embed within migrant communities—becoming radical hubs.

This case also raises larger questions. How did a European national of Somali descent reach this level of influence in a terror organization? How many more are under the radar? And why has the international community failed to dismantle these recruitment pipelines?

Khadra Issa is not just a fugitive—she’s the face of modern jihadist insurgency. And as the U.S. dangles millions for her arrest, one thing is clear: the war on ISIS may be out of the headlines, but it’s far from over.

After years of entrenchment, ISIS-Somalia’s last major bastion crumbles under Puntland’s offensive.

Puntland’s latest offensive in the Calmiskaad Mountains isn’t just a military success—it’s a symbolic decapitation of ISIS-Somalia’s regional ambitions. By seizing Togga Miraale, the crown jewel of ISIS’s mountain redoubts, Puntland security forces have dismantled what analysts long described as the terror group’s last command node in the region. The caliphate fantasy is over, at least in Puntland.

This wasn’t a victory won overnight. The month-long campaign through treacherous terrain and entrenched positions was a surgical war of attrition. ISIS fighters, once emboldened by their remote stronghold and a steady supply of weapons, were ground down. With captured stockpiles and dislodged militants, Puntland has dealt ISIS a blow from which it may never recover in northeastern Somalia.

This is more than just a win for Puntland. It’s a pivotal shift in the asymmetric war against jihadist movements in the Horn. While Al-Shabaab remains a dominant threat further south, ISIS-Somalia’s collapse exposes the vulnerability of jihadist splinter factions when faced with sustained, locally-led counterterrorism backed by strategic intelligence.

Moreover, this win couldn’t come at a more geopolitically significant time. As Somalia reels from recent setbacks—including the fall of Aadan Yabaal to Al-Shabaab—Puntland’s success highlights a stark contrast in governance, security, and military capability. It sends a potent message: decentralized Somali regions like Puntland can, and will, defend their territory where the federal government has failed.

Regional players like the UAE and the U.S., both of whom quietly supported this operation with air surveillance and intel, are taking note. So should Mogadishu. As the Somali government continues to lose ground to terrorists in the south, Puntland’s battlefield dominance is not just a local triumph—it’s a rebuke of Somalia’s fragile security architecture.

The caliphate in Somalia didn’t fall with fanfare—it collapsed under the pressure of a region that refused to yield. Puntland now owns the victory. And ISIS-Somalia? It’s a name soon to be remembered only in past tense.

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Puntland Airstrikes Devastate ISIS Strongholds, Killing Over 30 Fighters

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Puntland Forces Crush ISIS Strongholds in Togga Jaceel Offensive

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Puntland Clerics Rally Support for Military Offensive Against ISIS in Al-Miskaat Mountains

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In Puntland’s rugged mountains, ISIS builds a dangerous foothold

US AFRICOM Strikes ISIS Strongholds in Somalia

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Puntland Cracks Down on Illegal Foreign Nationals Amid Extremism Concerns

ISIS Drone Attack Kills Puntland Soldier

Landmine Explosion Kills 13 Puntland Soldiers in Counter-Terrorism Mission

Puntland Forces Strike Major Daesh Strongholds in Bari Region

Puntland Denies Amnesty to Foreign ISIS Fighters

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Puntland Forces Uncover Major Weapons Cache, Arrest Al-Shabaab and ISIS Suspects in Bosaso

The collapse of Middle Shabelle town exposes Somalia’s crumbling counteroffensive and re-energizes fears of a militant siege on the capital.

In a devastating blow to Somalia’s fragile counterinsurgency effort, Al-Shabaab militants stormed and seized the strategic town of Aadan Yabaal in Middle Shabelle—an area President Hassan Sheikh Mohamud himself toured just weeks earlier to inspire confidence. The government’s response? Silence. The militants’ message? We’re not done yet.

The Wednesday dawn assault, characterized by explosions, heavy artillery, and five hours of intense ground combat, ends with the fall of what was once a forward base for government operations. It’s a symbolic and strategic defeat: Aadan Yabaal had served as a key operations center against militant-controlled areas since its recapture in 2022.

Al-Shabaab’s Shabelle offensive is working. With over 50% more attacks in 2025 compared to last year, the militant group is flipping the script. After federal gains in 2022, the insurgents are now taking back ground—and fast. This isn’t just a tactical setback; it’s a psychological one.

Sources indicate the government’s forces conducted a “tactical withdrawal.” But it’s hard to spin the loss of a heavily militarized town as anything less than a collapse. Videos released by Al-Shabaab show fighters unchallenged inside the town, flaunting weapons and capturing vehicles. The symbolism is undeniable: The militants are organized, mobile, and emboldened.

Even more concerning is what this loss portends. The pattern suggests a strategic encirclement of Mogadishu. Villages within 50 kilometers of the capital have fallen. Assassination attempts on the president are growing. The Aadan Yabaal loss isn’t an isolated flare-up—it’s a warning shot.

Community militias and remnants of the federal army are reportedly preparing a counteroffensive. But the truth is, Al-Shabaab has just sent a chilling message: the war is far from over—and they’re winning battles that matter.

If Aadan Yabaal can fall so easily, how long before Mogadishu becomes more than just a target?

Trump eyes embassy closures as US rejects UN plan to fund peacekeepers in Somalia — Mogadishu’s last lifeline in peril.

The US shocks the UN by rejecting funding for African Union forces in Somalia, just as Trump weighs closing the US Embassy in Mogadishu. With Al-Shabaab advancing and oil politics heating up, is Somalia doomed to implode?

The United States just signaled the collapse of Somalia’s last fragile security architecture — and it did so with chilling clarity. Washington has publicly rejected UN efforts to fund the African Union Stabilization Support Mission in Somalia (AUSSOM), effectively gutting any hope for predictable peacekeeping operations in a country teetering on the edge of collapse.

This isn’t just a bureaucratic snub — it’s a geopolitical death sentence for Somalia. Al-Shabaab militants are already testing the vacuum, launching a multi-pronged assault on Adan Yabaal, a key military base in Middle Shabelle. If confirmed, the town’s fall would mark the largest strategic loss since Somalia launched its offensive against terror in 2022.

UN Secretary-General António Guterres warned the Security Council: no funding, no peace. But the US—under Trump’s second-term posture—is slamming the door shut, labeling Somalia as unfit for a hybrid funding model under Resolution 2719. Diplomats are in a panic. Meanwhile, Trump is reportedly planning to close up to 30 diplomatic missions, with Mogadishu’s embassy topping the list.

Somalia’s response? Desperation disguised as diplomacy. The FGS is now peddling oil blocks in contested territories like Nugaal Valley. In a flashy announcement on X, Somalia’s ambassador to the US declared “Somalia is open for drilling,” targeting American firms with an offer it legally and militarily cannot secure.

Somalia’s Ambassador to the United States, Dahir Hassan Arab

The move comes after Somalia’s recognition of SSC-Khaatumo — a region still engulfed in the political wreckage of its war with Somaliland.

This isn’t about development. It’s about weaponizing recognition, resource manipulation, and fake sovereignty in a bid to win Trump’s favor and undermine Somaliland’s momentum.

But while Hargeisa builds forests and attracts foreign media praise, Mogadishu is drowning in debt, insurgency, and denial. The West is tuning out, and even the UN is losing patience. The US, once Somalia’s diplomatic oxygen, is now pulling the plug.

Somalia is not rising — it’s being unplugged.