Nigeria’s Quiet in the Northeast Raises a Difficult Question: Can a Secret Truce Deliver Lasting Peace?

Nigeria’s Quiet in the Northeast Raises a Difficult Question: Can a Secret Truce Deliver Lasting Peace?

For communities in northeastern Nigeria, three months without the familiar rhythm of attacks, abductions and displacement may feel like a victory.

But if reports of a secret ceasefire between the Nigerian government and the Boko Haram faction led by Bakura Doro are accurate, the development raises a more complicated question: Is this peace or simply a pause in violence?

According to a report by The New Humanitarian, three people with contacts among senior Boko Haram members said the truce has been in effect since June and could be extended. The reported agreement is said to be connected to efforts to secure the release of more than 300 civilians abducted in March from Ngoshe, a community in Gwoza Local Government Area of Borno State.

For residents who have lived through years of insecurity, even a temporary reduction in violence matters.

Markets can reopen. Farmers can return to their fields. Families can travel with less fear. Children can go to school. Communities can begin to imagine something beyond survival.

But the secrecy surrounding the reported agreement makes the development difficult to celebrate without questions.

When silence becomes the measure of peace. Nigeria has spent more than a decade fighting insurgency in the Northeast.

The conflict has displaced millions, disrupted livelihoods and created communities where the absence of an attack can sometimes feel like an achievement in itself. That should not be the standard.

Peace should mean more than militants temporarily putting down their weapons. It should mean that communities can live, farm, trade and travel without negotiating their daily lives around the possibility of violence. This is why any ceasefire must ultimately be judged by what happens to civilians.

If the reported truce creates the conditions for abducted people to return home safely, prevents further attacks and opens a pathway towards genuine reconciliation, it could have significant humanitarian value.

But if it merely allows armed groups time to regroup, recruit or strengthen their position, then the quiet may prove temporary. The 300-plus civilians are at the centre of this story

The reported abduction from Ngoshe puts the human dimension of the alleged agreement into perspective. Behind every number is a family waiting for someone to return.

For those families, the politics of counter-insurgency are secondary to one question:
Will our loved ones come home? That should remain central to any negotiations.

Governments have a responsibility to protect citizens and ensure that any engagement with armed groups does not come at the expense of accountability. At the same time, when negotiations can save civilian lives and bring hostages home, refusing to consider them simply because they are politically uncomfortable may also carry a cost.

The challenge is finding the line between negotiation that protects lives and concessions that strengthen violent groups.
Nigeria needs to be honest about what is working

The reported ceasefire also presents an opportunity for Nigeria to reassess its approach to insecurity in the Northeast.

Military operations remain an important part of counter-insurgency, but military force alone has never been enough to resolve conflicts rooted in poverty, displacement, weak local institutions and the destruction of livelihoods.

If a period of reduced violence is confirmed, the government should use it to strengthen the civilian foundations of peace.

That means rebuilding communities. It means restoring schools and healthcare. It means helping farmers safely return to their land. It means creating economic opportunities for young people who might otherwise be vulnerable to recruitment.

And it means ensuring that communities are not forgotten once the headlines disappear.
The danger of celebrating too early. There is also a communication problem.

Governments understandably want to demonstrate progress in the fight against insurgency. But when security arrangements are secret, the public is left with limited information about what has actually been agreed, who is involved and what conditions are attached. That creates room for both optimism and suspicion.

A government cannot sustainably build public confidence around an agreement that citizens are not allowed to understand.

If negotiations are ongoing for legitimate security reasons, some details may necessarily remain confidential. But there should still be enough transparency to reassure Nigerians that civilian safety is not political convenience is driving the process.

Peace needs something to follow the ceasefire. The most important test may come after the silence.

If the reported truce holds, Nigeria should not simply return to business as usual. The period of relative calm should become an opportunity to establish mechanisms for monitoring the agreement, protecting civilians and addressing the grievances that continue to make communities vulnerable to violence. A ceasefire can stop people from shooting.

It cannot, by itself, rebuild a community. That requires investment, trust and institutions that people can depend on.

For the people of Borno and the wider Northeast, peace should not be measured by how long there has been no attack. It should be measured by whether people can finally begin living normal lives again.

And if a secret agreement has helped create that opening, Nigeria now faces the harder task: turning a pause in violence into something that can actually last.

Blessing Anolaba
Editorial & Creative Correspondent
A storyteller and journalist passionate about telling stories for policy change and impact.