Boko Haram controls access to the fishing grounds, collecting taxes from the fishermen
In the vast, borderless waterways of Lake Chad, where militant strongholds and fishing villages share the same islands, Chad's retaliatory air strikes against Boko Haram have claimed the lives of more than forty Nigerian fishermen — men who neither started the war nor could escape it. The strikes followed a deadly Boko Haram assault on Chadian military bases that killed two generals and two dozen soldiers, setting in motion a logic of retaliation that could not distinguish between the armed and the innocent. It is a tragedy that belongs to a longer story: of a region where survival has forced civilians into proximity with violence, and where military precision meets geographic impossibility.
- Boko Haram's coordinated attacks on Chadian bases last week — killing 24 soldiers and two generals — triggered an immediate and forceful military response that would have devastating unintended consequences.
- When Chadian jets arrived over Lake Chad on Friday, fishermen and fighters were sharing the same islands, the same escape routes, and the same desperate scramble for survival.
- More than 40 Nigerian fishermen are feared dead — some struck directly, others drowned in overloaded boats — and their bodies remain unrecovered in waters too deep and too dangerous for rescue teams to reach.
- The search is further complicated by a grim irony: Boko Haram controls access to the fishing grounds, transporting fishermen, taxing their catch, and embedding civilian livelihoods within militant infrastructure.
- This is not an isolated incident — a similar strike killed dozens of Nigerian fishermen on Tilma Island in October 2024 — raising urgent questions about accountability and whether military operations can ever be conducted responsibly in this entangled landscape.
On Friday, Chadian military aircraft began circling over the Lake Chad region, and panic spread across the water. Fishermen and Boko Haram fighters — sharing the same islands, the same narrow waterways — scrambled to escape. By the time the strikes ended, more than 40 people were feared dead: some killed directly, others drowned as overloaded boats capsized in the rush to flee.
Abubakar Gamandi Usman, head of the Lake Chad Basin Fisheries Association of Nigeria, brought the account to the BBC. His members were missing. Bodies had not been recovered. The strikes were Chad's retaliation for Boko Haram attacks earlier in the week on military bases near the lake, which had killed at least 24 soldiers and two generals. Chad's presidency announced intensive bombardment of militant positions. The logic was clear. The geography was not.
Lake Chad stretches across four countries — Nigeria, Chad, Niger, and Cameroon — and has been a Boko Haram stronghold for years. When the Chadian air force moved in, both militants and the fishermen who worked those waters knew they had to run. As Usman explained, after attacking Chadian forces, Boko Haram retreated to the same islands where fishermen live and work.
Recovery efforts have been hampered not only by the lake's depth, but by a darker structural reality: Boko Haram controls access to the fishing grounds. The group transports fishermen to markets, taxes their catch, and is woven into the economic fabric of their survival — making the separation of civilian from combatant nearly impossible from the air.
This is not the first time. In October 2024, Chadian strikes on Tilma Island reportedly killed dozens of Nigerian fishermen in similar circumstances. Nigeria's own military has faced comparable accusations, most recently denying civilian casualties from strikes in Niger state. But in a region where militants and fishing communities are geographically inseparable, the gap between credible intelligence and ground truth can be measured in lives. The cycle of attacks, retaliation, and civilian death shows no sign of breaking.
On Friday, as Chad's military aircraft began circling overhead in the Lake Chad region, panic rippled across the water. Fishermen and Boko Haram fighters alike scrambled to escape, many of them sharing the same islands, the same waterways, the same desperate need to survive what came next. By the time the air strikes ended, more than 40 people were feared dead—some hit directly by the military's retaliatory bombardment, others drowned in overloaded boats as they fled.
Abubakar Gamandi Usman, who leads the Lake Chad Basin Fisheries Association of Nigeria, brought the account to the BBC. His members were missing. The bodies had not been recovered. But the mathematics of the disaster were becoming clear: Chadian military jets had struck at Boko Haram strongholds on islands where Nigerian fishermen also worked and lived, and the fishermen had paid the price.
The strikes themselves were a response to something that had happened days earlier. On Monday and Wednesday of the previous week, Boko Haram had attacked Chadian military bases near Lake Chad, killing at least 24 soldiers and two generals. Chad's presidency announced on Sunday that it had launched intensive retaliatory air strikes against the militant group's positions. The logic was straightforward: find the enemy and strike. The problem was that the enemy and the civilians occupied the same ground.
Lake Chad itself is a vast, complex landscape—waterways and swampland stretching across four countries: Nigeria, Chad, Niger, and Cameroon. It has been a stronghold for Boko Haram and its rival faction, Islamic State West Africa Province, for years. When the Chadian air force began its operation on Friday, both the militants and the fishermen who worked those waters knew they had to move. "After Boko Haram attacked Chadian forces, they retreated to islands they operate from," Usman explained to the BBC. "Fishermen also inhabit these islands."
The search for the missing has been hampered by the geography itself. Parts of Lake Chad run very deep, making recovery difficult. But there is another obstacle, one that speaks to the strange and terrible entanglement of civilian life and militant control in this region: Boko Haram manages access to the fishing grounds. The group transports fishermen to and from the markets and the water. It collects taxes from them. The fishermen depend on the militants for their livelihood, even as the militants use them as a source of revenue and, inadvertently or not, as cover.
This is not the first time civilians have been caught in the crossfire. In October 2024, Chad's air force was reported to have killed dozens of Nigerian fishermen during strikes on Tilma Island, also targeting Boko Haram. Nigeria's own military has faced similar accusations—that its operations against armed groups and jihadist fighters have claimed civilian lives. The military typically characterizes such deaths as unintended collateral damage. Most recently, Nigeria's armed forces denied reports that civilians were killed during air strikes in Niger state on Sunday, with a military spokesperson stating that operations had been "executed based on credible, actionable intelligence."
But credible intelligence and the reality on the ground are not always the same thing. In a region where militant groups and fishing communities share islands and waterways, where one group controls access to the other's means of survival, the line between combatant and civilian becomes almost impossible to draw. The estimated 40 or more fishermen feared dead represent not just a military miscalculation, but a structural problem: how do you conduct military operations in a landscape where the enemy and the innocent are geographically inseparable? The Lake Chad region continues to see rising attacks on security forces, kidnappings, and raids on communities. The cycle shows no sign of breaking.
Notable Quotes
After Boko Haram attacked Chadian forces, they retreated to islands they operate from. Fishermen also inhabit these islands.— Abubakar Gamandi Usman, Lake Chad Basin Fisheries Association of Nigeria
Boko Haram controls access to the fishing grounds, transporting fishermen to and from the fish market to the fishing site. Boko Haram collects taxes from these fishermen.— Abubakar Gamandi Usman
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why were fishermen on the same islands as Boko Haram fighters in the first place?
Because Boko Haram controls the fishing grounds. They transport the fishermen out to work, collect taxes from them, manage access to the market. The fishermen don't have a choice—that's how they survive.
So when Chad's military struck, they couldn't really separate the two groups?
Not in any practical sense. The islands are shared space. When the air force arrived on Friday, both the militants and the fishermen panicked and tried to flee at the same time.
The source mentions bodies haven't been recovered. Why is that taking so long?
The lake is very deep in places, which makes recovery difficult. But also—and this is crucial—the local community has limited access to canoes because Boko Haram controls most of them. So even the search and rescue operation is constrained by the same power structure that created the problem.
This happened before, didn't it?
Yes. October 2024, Tilma Island. Dozens of fishermen killed in similar strikes. This is a pattern, not an isolated incident.
What's Chad's explanation for the strikes?
Retaliation. Boko Haram killed 24 soldiers and two generals in attacks on military bases the week before. From Chad's perspective, they were responding to a direct threat. The problem is that the threat and the civilian population occupy the same geography.
Is there any accountability for civilian deaths?
Not really. Nigeria's military denies civilian casualties in its own operations, calling them collateral damage when they do happen. Chad hasn't commented on the fishermen at all. The fishermen themselves have no power in this equation—they're caught between two forces, neither of which answers to them.