Mafa Kwanisai Mafa

Across Africa today, insecurity is often presented as a natural problem, as if violence simply grows from African soil.

Terrorist groups appear, chaos follows, and then foreign powers arrive claiming to offer solutions. This pattern has repeated itself for decades. From Libya to Somalia, from Mali to Afghanistan, beyond Africa, instability has been used as an excuse for intervention.

In this context, many Africans are beginning to ask hard questions. Is the renewed ISIS-linked threat in Nigeria purely a local problem, or is it part of a wider geopolitical strategy aimed at reshaping West Africa and eventually targeting leaders like Burkina Faso’s Captain Ibrahim Traoré?

Nigeria has battled Boko Haram and its ISIS-aligned faction, ISWAP, for years. Yet despite massive military budgets, foreign intelligence cooperation, and regional task forces, the problem never truly ends.

Sometimes it weakens, then suddenly resurges with new weapons, better coordination, and stronger media visibility. This raises a disturbing question: how do these groups keep regenerating in a region under constant surveillance by some of the most powerful intelligence agencies in the world?

Africa is the most monitored continent on earth. Satellites, drones, military bases, NGOs, and foreign “partners” are everywhere. It is therefore difficult to believe that terrorist movements grow, travel, trade weapons, and recruit across borders without being noticed. When such groups are not only noticed but seem to survive indefinitely, suspicion naturally grows.

History offers useful lessons. During the Cold War, armed groups were routinely created, funded, or manipulated to weaken governments that refused to align with Western interests.

Afghanistan’s mujahideen later became a global security nightmare. Libya was “liberated” in 2011, only to become a weapons supermarket for terrorists across the Sahel. Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso all suffered directly from that intervention. None of this was accidental.

Today, Burkina Faso under Captain Ibrahim Traoré represents a dangerous example for imperial powers. Traoré speaks openly against neocolonialism. He rejects foreign military dominance. He aligns with other anti-imperialist states and insists on African sovereignty over resources, security, and political direction.

For Western powers that rely on influence, access, and control, such leadership is a threat not because it promotes violence, but because it promotes independence.

Direct military attacks on such leaders are no longer fashionable. Instead, modern regime change is indirect. It comes through sanctions, media demonisation, economic pressure, and most importantly, insecurity.

A country or region drowned in fear cannot think clearly. Populations under attack begin to doubt their leaders. They become desperate and easier to manipulate.

Nigeria is key to this strategy. It is Africa’s largest economy, its most populous country, and a regional anchor. If Nigeria is kept unstable, the entire West African region remains fragile. Terrorism in Nigeria justifies foreign military presence, intelligence operations, and “security partnerships” that stretch across borders into Niger, Chad, and the Sahel. This creates a security corridor that can be activated or redirected when needed.

The rise or rebranding of ISIS-linked threats in Nigeria also serves another function: narrative control. Western media quickly frames African insecurity as proof that Africans cannot govern themselves.

When leaders like Traoré reject Western military assistance, they are quietly painted as reckless or dangerous. The message is subtle but clear: “Look at Nigeria. This is what happens without us.”

Yet the facts challenge this narrative. Western-backed security approaches have failed for decades. Billions have been spent, but terrorism spreads.

Meanwhile, countries that have expelled foreign troops and pursued independent security strategies are showing signs of recovery, despite intense pressure and sabotage attempts. This is deeply inconvenient for imperial interests.

It is therefore reasonable, not extremist, not irrational for Africans to question whether terrorism is sometimes managed rather than eliminated. Chaos is profitable. Arms manufacturers benefit. Private military contractors benefit. Foreign powers gain leverage over governments forced to beg for help. And any African leader who refuses this arrangement becomes a target.

This does not mean that Nigerian fighters are CIA agents or that every act of terror is scripted in Washington. That would be simplistic. Local grievances, poverty, corruption, and historical injustice are real. But it does mean that these problems are often exploited, inflamed, and redirected to serve larger geopolitical goals.

Africa must learn to read between the lines. When terrorism suddenly escalates at politically convenient moments, when solutions always involve foreign boots and foreign bases, and when anti-imperialist leaders are constantly surrounded by instability, Africans must ask: who benefits?

Captain Ibrahim Traoré’s real “crime” is not dictatorship or incompetence, as some claim. His crime is reminding Africans that sovereignty is possible. Africa does not need permanent guardians. That security without dignity is not security at all.

If Africa continues to accept every crisis at face value, it will remain trapped in endless emergencies. But if Africans begin to connect the dots, to study history, and to trust their own instincts, a different future becomes possible. Terrorism thrives in confusion. Liberation begins with clarity.

The threat in Nigeria should be confronted seriously, but not blindly. Africa must defeat terrorism without becoming a pawn in someone else’s war. Otherwise, today’s insecurity in Nigeria may become tomorrow’s excuse to crush Africa’s last bold voices of resistance.

History will judge whether Africans asked the right questions in time.