CONCLUSION: NIGERIA AT A CROSSROADS

This book has attempted to convey the myriad ways in which women have shaped the development and course of the Boko Haram insurgency. Not only did Boko Haram’s founder, Mohammed Yusuf, use women’s issues and place in society to attract female members, this was also a means of differentiating his movement from other Salafist groups. Women within the insurgency play various roles. As in a number of modern conflicts, women have served as porters, cooks and sexual slaves. However, Boko Haram has also incorporated women into new roles in the insurgency, relying on female suicide bombers to advance their campaign of terror in the face of an increasing military presence. It should not come as a surprise that women have not merely been acted upon over the course of the insurgency – although women’s political activity is often shrouded or quiet, throughout the region’s history women have contributed to social, political and economic developments.

The act that launched the insurgency into the global spotlight – the infamous abduction of 276 schoolgirls from their dormitory in Chibok in April 2014 – was obviously a deeply gendered human rights violation. Throughout the insurgency, both the insurgents and the Nigerian government have used women as powerful symbols. The quest to #BringBackOurGirls has become a global rallying cry, mobilising military, financial and political support around the world. While this support was certainly necessary to improve the government’s response to the crisis and raise global consciousness, it has also contributed to the dehumanisation and fetishization of the girls who were abducted. The single-minded focus on the plight of the Chibok girls overlooks the wider patterns of abuse and recruitment of women and girls by Boko Haram. It also marginalises the grievances lodged against the Nigerian government by both Boko Haram and communities in the north-east in response to the military’s heavy-handed response and arbitrary detention and abuse of women and girls thought to have ties to the insurgency.

The focus on the Chibok abductions also sidelines important conversations about women who join the sect voluntarily. Although it is difficult to grapple with the question of how structural violence against women contributed to the insurgency, it is necessary to do so. Gender inequality has been convincingly linked not only to economic underdevelopment, but also to social volatility and both inter- and intra-state conflict. The oppression of women and girls was a priming factor for violence and instability in the country. The lack of autonomy, the dearth of educational and vocational opportunities, and the scarcity of health services for women, combined with their overt physical abuse, incentivised female sympathy for the sect. This sympathy was expressed in a number of ways – from passive cooperation following Boko Haram’s invasion, to providing emotional and reproductive support to male members in the sect, to identifying as members of the insurgency, and to participating in military endeavours.

While the extent of women’s participation in the insurgency requires further investigation, the displacement crisis in the north-east is undeniably feminised. The crisis, despite being objectively one of the worst humanitarian situations in the world, has not been treated as such. Although the number of the displaced continues to rise and the region is experiencing pockets of famine conditions, international support has been slow to materialise. The result of the global community’s reticence has been the militarisation of the aid process under the direction of the Nigerian security sector. This entrenches the vulnerability of women and has furthered a culture of impunity for human rights abuses. Humanitarian programmes and even the nascent post-conflict reconciliation initiatives suffer from myopia and a lack of gender inclusion. Oppressive customary legal systems and traditional leadership have prevented women from accessing resources – particularly land – that they depend upon for their survival. The social stigma displaced women face from communities who associate them with the insurgents compounds the psychological trauma they have experienced at the hands of Boko Haram. Unfortunately, support for women’s mental health is of secondary concern to providing food and shelter to the displaced – which remains difficult, underfunded, and woefully inadequate.

Despite the devastating consequences of the insurgency, which is the most lethal conflict in the turbulent history of the Nigerian Fourth Republic, the crisis also represents an opportunity to implement egalitarian legal reforms and to shift social mores towards gender equality. Although there are no hard-and-fast rules as to how to facilitate gender equity in the post-conflict era, cross-national research and the experiences of other African countries provide a number of potential programmes and policies. Such gender-equitable reform is an investment in peace. Not only has research demonstrated the security imperative behind gender-equitable societies, it has also illustrated pathways to cultivate gender inclusivity. Inclusion of women during the peace process makes it more likely not only that the negotiating parties will come to an agreement, but also that the peace deal will be more durable. There is no single set of gender-sensitive post-conflict reforms universally applicable; however, the institution of quotas for women’s participation in politics is one particularly effective means of accelerating the process of women’s empowerment and has been linked to overall improvements in the quality of governance.

Facilitating the sort of widespread, normative social change necessary to advance women’s rights in the aftermath of Boko Haram requires international support. However, for this support to reach its potential, the international community must revise its shallow conceptualisation of women. Similar to the ‘madonna–whore complex’ identified in psychoanalysis, programmes and initiatives relating to women suffer from a false dichotomy in which women are either a helpless, vulnerable population completely lacking in autonomy, or they are an unadulterated altruistic force for change. Consider the ubiquity of ‘women and children’ programming, a category that is as much a product of women’s typical responsibility for children as it is of the view that women have as much autonomy as minors. On the other hand, an increasingly common refrain is that women are the world’s ‘greatest untapped resource’, transforming gender-equitable programming into a process of mining for women.

Clearly, neither conceptualisation does women justice. It is uncomfortable, especially for those seeking to advance women’s rights, to acknowledge that women can engage in violence just as men do. Female ambition, translated through various cultural lenses and opportunities, is a source of discomfort globally. Some countries have been more successful than others in providing channels for female ambition. Some contexts, perhaps well-illustrated by the case of north-east Nigeria, lack channels for all but the most elite to achieve a sense of self and a sustainable livelihood. The crises that inevitably result from widespread marginalisation and social stagnation, though devastating, provide an opportunity to renegotiate the social contract. The (admittedly imperfect) processes of post-war redevelopment and female empowerment in the aftermath of conflicts in Liberia, Uganda and Rwanda suggest that Nigeria is at a crossroads. In my conversations with female Boko Haram members, it was clear that they joined for many reasons, but a common theme was that participation gave them a sense of identity. Many said that membership was one of the few ways in which they could exercise autonomy and feel powerful. This pattern is not uncommon – a review of women in Al Qaeda by Katharina von Knop concluded that ‘female subordination is linked to female participation in terrorism’.1 Mats Utas, considering conflict in Liberia, observes that, ‘precarious and treacherous as it may be, the war zone is thus not merely a wasteland for young women, but at times may also be a field ripe with possibilities for upwards social and economic mobility, even as it may also contain unforeseen pitfalls that lead to increased marginalization’.2 The challenge is to find a way for women to use their power to take a more peaceful place.

Unfortunately, the wave of populism and xenophobic nationalism that swept through a number of important Western donor countries, including the United States and United Kingdom, in 2016 reduced the likelihood of a nuanced, well-financed and gender-sensitive response to the situation in the Lake Chad Basin. In fact, it appears that the United States may reverse its foreign policy of promoting women’s rights. At the time of writing, the Trump administration had not released a coherent foreign policy platform, but there are troubling signs. Officials at the State Department were asked in December 2016 to provide information to the Trump transition team about ‘existing programs and activities to promote gender equality, such as ending gender-based violence, promoting women’s participation in economic and political spheres, entrepreneurship, etc.’³ This is an unprecedented request; although it may be a ham-fisted way of getting information, many advocates and civil servants fear that this request signifies an intention to curtail or eliminate these programmes.

The choice between rebuilding the oppressive, unstable order or reconfiguring societies in the north-east to be more inclusive, peaceable and stable is an easy one. The actual process of building such a society is infinitely more difficult and will require the inclusion of women in decision making early and often. Ensuring that women and their needs are recognised during the demobilisation and reintegration of fighters, in the planning of how to care for the long-term displaced, in the post-conflict land tenure deliberations, during the process of legislative reform, and, finally, through their concerted incorporation in the political system requires identifying and cultivating women’s advocacy groups. Amplifying these women’s voices and needs is a necessity for the international community.

Women’s inclusion in post-conflict programmes is a necessity, not only because women will be the dominant able-bodied demographic when the guns are silenced, but also because non-inclusive societies have proven to be prone to violence. The oppression of women both drove women into the insurgency’s ranks, as they sought autonomy, and also incentivised the use of gendered violence by the insurgents. Peace in northern Nigeria will not be durable if it is peace made by and for men. Women’s struggles in northern Nigeria are waged on a number of fronts, not just in the fight against Boko Haram, but also in domestic, political and private domains. These fights for autonomy, equality and security must also be resolved if the peace after Boko Haram is to be legitimate, inclusive and durable.