Katsina Community Decimated by Bandit Attacks: Residents Flee

Doma A no longer resembles a community.

The farms that previously defined the area lie neglected. Compounds remain unlocked, with doors swaying in the breeze. There are no children playing in the streets, nor are there traders engaging in commerce. The only sound is silence.

Following a brutal attack on February 3 that resulted in multiple fatalities, the MaiGari of Doma, Magaji Yahaya Doma, stated that the community has been effectively emptied.

"The town is deserted," the leader lamented. "My people have dispersed in various directions—some in Ruwan Godiya, others in Guga, Bakori, Tahoki, and Funtua. As I speak, Doma is desolate."

He noted that the lack of a substantial security presence since the incident has made any return to normalcy unfeasible. "There is no safety," he added. "How can people return when there is no protection?"

The traditional ruler expressed that the tragedy transcends the loss of life; it signifies the disintegration of a community that previously endured years of conflict and displacement before this latest attack.

Attack in Broad Daylight

The assault on Doma A occurred not under the cover of darkness but in broad daylight, as described by locals. The gunmen arrived in the community just before noon on February 3 and operated for an extended period without opposition.

"They came at midday," recalled Sama’ila Doma, a Doma B resident. "We saw the attackers approach from Ruwan Godiya, to the south of the village. We were outside when we suddenly heard gunfire. The assailants rode on motorcycles, with two or three armed men on each. Their numbers were estimated to be between 70 and 100."

Rather than breaking into homes, the gunmen transformed the streets into a scene of destruction, shooting indiscriminately at anyone they encountered outside.

"They didn’t go from house to house," he explained. "They were firing on the roads. Anyone they saw outside was shot at."

Witnesses recounted that the attackers moved freely throughout the late morning and early afternoon, intermittently firing on residents and igniting homes and stores. There was no immediate counterattack.

Many residents estimated the violence lasted over two hours, with security forces arriving only after the gunmen had retreated.

Sama’ila stated that the killings left families shattered, transforming their pastoral way of life into one of mourning.

"When one man is killed like this, many lives are destroyed along with him," he noted. He dismissed claims that Doma’s inhabitants had provoked the assault, stating, "We received no warnings before the attack. No one notified us of any killings. They came and started shooting."

Fatal Encounter

The attackers did not overlook those attempting to escape the chaos. One of the victims was Muhammad Sagiru, a 34-year-old commercial driver, who encountered the gunmen while driving through Doma A.

He had spent the previous day transporting politicians to a rally in Katsina and, on his way back, decided to help his relatives by driving them to a wedding in Dandume.

"He left early in the morning to assist family members," recounted his elder brother, Ahmadu Sagiru. "That was the last time we spoke to him."

While driving through Doma A, he was intercepted by the assailants already active in the area. When the family attempted to reach him by phone, someone answered briefly in a different voice before the line went dead, indicating he had fallen into their clutches.

Eventually, the family discovered his car burned and followed a trail of blood leading to a nearby ditch, where they found his lifeless body.

Mr. Ahmadu explained, "They shot him and set the vehicle ablaze. We followed the blood trail to find him in a ditch." Muhammad left behind two wives, nine children, and an elderly mother who depended entirely on him.

"He was our mother’s only son living with her," Mr. Ahmadu lamented. "Now everything has changed."

Uncertain Casualty Figures

Even days after the assault, the precise count of lives lost in Doma A remains uncertain. Residents assert that the actual toll is much greater than what officials report.

"We buried 27 people," shared an anonymous resident, concerned about potential repercussions. "Some died immediately while others succumbed to injuries later."

The MaiGari's account differed slightly, stating that burials occurred in various locations, with some bodies being interred in nearby communities. "We held funeral prayers for 19 bodies here," he explained, noting that at least one had been taken elsewhere.

The Katsina State Police Command reported 13 fatalities in the incident, but residents contest this figure, emphasizing that many victims perished afterward due to injuries, and some bodies were not recovered in time.

For the affected families, figures are secondary. "Whether it's 13 or 27, they're our people and they don’t deserve to die in this manner," Mr. Sama’ila asserted.

Fragile Peace Agreement

In the months preceding the attack, Doma A had largely experienced tranquility. Community leaders attributed this peace to a settlement reached around September 2025, following extensive raids, kidnappings, and fatalities across parts of Faskari Local Government Area. The MaiGari maintained that the arrangement was a formal agreement involving local officials and traditional authorities.

"Everyone was aware of the peace deal," he stated. Under the terms, firearms were prohibited in the community, and residents were encouraged to report incidents rather than seeking revenge.

For a period, this understanding seemed effective. "There were months without attacks," he recounted. "People began farming again."

However, he admitted that the peace was precarious. "It wasn’t peace due to resolution of issues; it stemmed from fear."

Precipitating Incident

The reasons behind the attack on Doma A are still hotly debated. Residents, including Mr. Sama’ila, insist they received no prior warning and had not engaged in any actions that might justify such brutality.

"We heard nothing before the gunfire," he mentioned. However, Mr. Yahaya acknowledged that prior events may have contributed to the incident. He suggested that the fragile peace was easily disrupted, yet maintained he had not been contacted before the attack and no one had reached out.

A security analyst, Yahuza Getso, suggested the violence followed the death of a bandit who allegedly entered Doma A after the peace agreement was established. According to Mr. Getso, the killing was perceived as a violation of the truce, prompting a retaliatory response from armed factions associated with influential bandit leaders in the region. Residents, however, refuted this narrative, asserting that no such event had occurred.

Systemic Failure of Informal Peace Arrangements

Security experts argue that the events in Doma illustrate a broader trend across north-west Nigeria, where informal peace agreements with armed groups frequently collapse. Mr. Getso noted that these understandings often rely on spoken agreements rather than structured enforcement mechanisms. "When settlements are brokered, they generally involve local dignitaries and sometimes local government officials," he said. "But a systematic monitoring system or state guarantees are rarely in place."

He speculated that allegations regarding a member of an armed group being killed in violation of the September 2025 agreement might have spurred retaliatory actions, although he conceded that these details are often contested.

Residents in Doma reiterated their unawareness of any incidents that could have breached the truce prior to the February assault. The dynamics of informal peace agreements expose communities to unexpected violence from actions they may not fully comprehend or regulate.

Response to the Crisis

By the time security forces made their way to Doma A, the assailants had already retreated. "They arrived only after everything was over," stated Mr. Yahaya. "There was nothing left for them to prevent."

Residents also recounted the appearance of military aircraft later that day, which circled briefly but left without confronting the attackers. "They merely hovered above," the MaiGari remarked. "They did not engage."

Local vigilantes attempted to intervene but were outmatched by the attackers' firepower. "This was beyond their capability," Mr. Yahaya commented. "They were unable to confront such a level of violence."

For those witnessing the attack, the delayed response only underscores a familiar pattern: assistance arrives only after lives have been lost.

Aftermath of the Assault

In the days following the assault, Doma A remains predominantly abandoned, with most residents having fled the area. According to Mr. Yahaya, many left immediately after the incident and have yet to return. "My people are scattered, with some in Ruwan Godiya and others in Bakori, Tafoki, and Funtua. As of now, no one has returned," he explained.

He emphasized that fear—not distance—keeps families away. "There is still no security," he noted. "People ask me, ‘Who will protect us if we come back?’ I have no response for them."

This displacement has disrupted families and livelihoods, forcing farmers to abandon crops and pulling children from school. Many widows and orphans now rely on the support of relatives and charity from host communities. Some families are still searching for missing loved ones.

"Some families still do not know where their loved ones are," he said. For a community primarily dependent on agriculture, prolonged disruption threatens not just housing but their very existence.

A Call for Security

The tragedy of Doma extends beyond those who lost their lives and encompasses what has been taken from the surviving community members. "The average person here does not seek political promises," Mr. Yahaya concluded. "They only wish to farm and provide for their families."

Many of the deceased were heads of households with sizable families—men with several wives and many children now left vulnerable. "How will these children survive?" he posed. "That is a question with no answer."

His plea is straightforward and urgent. "Provide us with security, so our people may return and farm in peace."

Until that occurs, Doma A remains a sobering narrative of a community caught between tenuous truces, armed conflict, and ineffective state responses.

The gunmen have departed.

But so have the residents.