Abdul-Gafaru Abdulai and Sam Hickey gave an overview of our emerging work exploring the politics of informal settlements. Their analysis looks at the linkages between national political settlements and everyday politics experienced by communities. They highlighted the different experiences of informal settlements populated by indigenous communities and more recent squatters, as well as the clear link between rising land values and elite interest in particular settlements. They also propose that the idea of “forbearance”, developed within the Latin American context, may provide a more useful political lens than the traditional idea of clientelism, which tends to be used within the African context.  

Our second session, convened by Daniela Beltrame and Diana Mitlin, looked at community knowledge in academic research: in pursuit of epistemic justice. The importance of community knowledge has been a key facet of our research so far (particularly around informal settlements), and will be led by Beth Chitekwe-Biti as research director during the implementation phase of work.

A wide variety of presenters (from beyond ACRC) highlighted the very real benefits for both themselves as researchers and for individuals working around community knowledge processes – while acknowledging the constant tensions, contradictions and practical issues that had to be navigated along the way. Compensation for community members’ time, institutional barriers and the role of intermediaries within communities were themes throughout.

As Diana Mitlin summarised, recognising the messiness at the interface between community and academic knowledge processes is essential for researchers who reject the premise that knowledge can neatly fit into predefined categories. 

The ACRC experiences around community knowledge were presented by Daniela Beltrame and Smith Ouma. Smith highlighted the fact that for all organised communities, the generation of knowledge is inseparable from action. Compensation, commodification and individualisation of gains were also issues emphasised across the community members who worked as part of the ACRC city research teams. The value of community members’ time, networks and knowledge was reflected in the challenge that “we are not gonna do your donkey work”.

The gatekeeping role of intermediary NGOs, particularly around access and accountability, was another issue to be navigated. Daniela Beltrame, who is currently undertaking her own PhD based on participatory action research, also discussed the positive ways in which research was being seen as a legitimate career option for some community members: “knowledge is a paying business, and it can be a career”.

To keep up to date with all of ACRC’s forthcoming publications, as well as ongoing conversations around community knowledge on our blog and podcast, please sign up for regular e-newsletters.

Photo credits: Chris Jordan. Header photo shows Abdul-Gafaru Abdulai presenting emerging findings around the politics of informal settlements in Accra, Freetown, Kampala and Harare.

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ACRC has published new research, exploring safety and security in six African cities: Bukavu, Democratic Republic of Congo; Freetown, Sierra Leone; Lagos, Nigeria; Maiduguri, Nigeria; Mogadishu, Somalia; and Nairobi, Kenya.

Insecurity, crime and violence have a profound impact on the lived experiences of African city residents. They produce significant fear and suffering, often burdening women, children and disadvantaged communities the most.

Both perceived and real threats of violence can limit mobility, impacting the education, livelihoods and general wellbeing of urban residents. The prevalence of urban insecurity also shines a spotlight on governance approaches at both the city and national level, with different forms of political settlement shaping patterns of violence and responses to insecurity.

Addressing the challenges of insecurity and urban violence is therefore an urgent agenda for African cities. In this paper, authors Patience Adzande, Paula Meth and Stephen Commins argue that coalitions across community groups, informal security providers, the police and schools are critical sites for future security reform.

Research was conducted in collaboration with city-based domain teams and researchers focused on city systems and political settlements analysis. Our research challenged singular readings of insecurity within African cities through an everyday insecurities approach. Capturing the lived experiences of lower-income communities was essential to understanding safety and security in the different focus cities, with teams drawing on a mixed methods approach to gather data – including interviews, security diaries, surveys, media reports and community consultations. The lived experience approach adopted in the city studies revealed differentiated accounts and notions of insecurity, both within and between cities.

Key findings

• Safety and security relate to political, personal, social, health, financial, environmental and psychological dimensions.
• In Freetown, criminality and gang violence are key social insecurity issues, while a primary safety challenge in coastal neighbourhoods is flooding.
• Incidences of robbery, assassinations, rape and sexual violence, issues of witchcraft and fetishisms, unregulated gambling, abduction and kidnapping were widely reported in Lagos, Mogadishu, Maiduguri, Nairobi and Bukavu.
• Poverty, gender, ethnicity and displacement directly exacerbate residents’ vulnerability to insecurity.
• City studies illustrated the varied complex intersections between politics and (in)security operating across urban, regional and national scales as manifested in the different configurations of key actors, who often shaped access to resources, controlled land and determined security strategies.

The safety and security domain research findings highlight opportunities and challenges that could shape reform efforts in African cities in three key areas: what constitutes (in)security, integrating plural security governance systems, and possibilities to transform formal and/or informal security platforms into reform coalitions.

Header photo credit: Diana Mitlin. Landslide in Bukavu, DRC.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

Header photo credit: Global Development Institute, The University of Manchester.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

Patience Adzande conducts a focus group discussion in Maiduguri, Nigeria, as part of her fieldwork.

The difficulties of drawing the line between us and our informants also relate to the aftermath of data collection, through the resonance and impact of various life stories. Critical safeguarding issues arise here, particularly where the research undertaking is liable to potentially generate backlash for the research participants. The challenges posed by research – outside of our responsibility to “do no harm” – also concern our ability to deal with the nature of information shared with us and to process the stark differences defining our lives and those of our study subjects, as individuals and communities. While this may be more pronounced when working with people who are particularly disadvantaged economically, the weight of sitting through accounts of trauma related to war, displacement or gender-based violence is equally impactful.

It is therefore essential for researchers to recognise and declare their commitment to taking all necessary steps to prevent harm from resulting to their research participants. In addition, the potential impact of the research process on the researcher, especially during and after data collection, should be adequately considered. Researchers must give these issues adequate forethought before engaging in their research undertakings and make ethical decisions on how or whether to conduct their proposed research.

Navigating issues associated with researching disadvantaged people

While there are no definitive answers to the issues raised here – or to the many other questions left unaddressed – it is important to acknowledge their existence and engage with the persistent presence of discomfort that surrounds the data collection process. One way of navigating this discomfort is to approach research subjects as “human lives” and not just data, and to design methodologies around exchange rather than extraction. This may be instinctively done by conducting interviews and FGDs as reciprocal conversations, while maintaining boundaries and recognising the power configurations that shape our positionality in relation to informants and the knowledge and experiences they share.

Building on the need to integrate reciprocity into the process, another approach could be to engage in more participatory research. This would also require validation sessions with study participants through follow-up fieldwork. Sharing research findings with individuals and communities – in a language accessible to them – would allow them an insight into the research process beyond the interview and FGD setting. It would also enable them to observe how raw data is processed through sharing findings via presentations and publishable outputs.

Takeaway insights and lessons learnt

Regardless of the particular strategies we chose in navigating the intricacies of research with and on disadvantaged peoples, honesty and transparency are central in ensuring that our roles are clearly defined and that informants’ have realistic expectations of us. Through building authenticity into our interactions with informants, we may become better equipped at setting targets that acknowledge the lengthy journey to impact through publications. At the same time, we can challenge the normative nature of research as extraction, by critically reflecting on our relationship with our research participants and adopting more inclusive approaches to data collection.

This blog post is a joint output based on discussions that took place as part of a seminar the authors attended on 31 January 2023, at The University of Manchester, entitled “Doing research with and on disadvantaged peoples”.

Photo credits: Patience Adzande, taken on fieldwork in Maiduguri, Nigeria, August 2022.

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

Figure 1: Spatial symbols of the presence of informal security providers in Maiduguri

The communities selected for the study were Gwange, Mairi Kuwait, Bulumkutu, Old Maiduguri and Old GRA (Figure 2). The first four communities are low-income areas, with high population and building densities, and poorly developed infrastructure like roads and electricity. Gwange, Old Maiduguri and Bulumkutu have significantly high proportions of unemployed and informal sector-based residents.

On the other hand, Mairi Kuwait has a higher number of residents who are employed in the formal sector – especially at the University of Maiduguri, which is adjacent to the community. Although the Old GRA is a middle to high-income community, it was included in the study in order to compare the perceptions and experiences of informal security provisioning between low- and high-income communities. It was equally important to see how conditions of inequality disproportionately affect residents’ experiences of crime and shape responses to safety and security in urban communities.

Figure 2: Locations of the selected communities

Local culture and experiences in the field

The African Cities Research Consortium (ACRC) team in Maiduguri assisted in identifying suitable research assistants for my fieldwork, and having local partners proved to be very helpful. Maiduguri is a city with deeply rooted cultural and religious beliefs, and my field assistants gave me tips on behavioural conduct. For visits to some of the communities detailed above, I was advised to wear ankle-length gowns, and to have a veil handy. For other communities, no strict dress code was required but I was expected to cover up decently and again have a veil to hand.

As a female researcher, reliance on only one other female research assistant was unfeasible, as it was culturally inappropriate for two women to approach a man for an interview. Nor could I go into the field with only a male assistant, as female respondents might feel uncomfortable answering questions posed by a man. To address these issues, I recruited and worked with a male and a female research assistant.

Access to communities

An ISP leader offered to provide an ISP field guide and a vehicle for my fieldwork in Maiduguri. After discussing this tempting offer with my research assistants, I turned it down. We felt that being accompanied to the communities by an ISP could affect respondents’ willingness to participate in the research (for fear of retribution). It could also undermine their ability to answer questions honestly. And our “fear” was confirmed in one of the communities, where we sensed that the ISPs’ presence during interviews affected the responses given by the interviewees. The research team had to ask the same questions repeatedly and in different ways to extract reasonable information from the respondents.

My research assistants had previous work and data collection experience in Maiduguri, and so had some contacts in the communities. Since my team and I were “strangers” in the selected communities, I relied on these local contacts to accompany us, for security reasons, and to negotiate meetings with the research participants. In some communities, our local guide led us in and out through different streets whenever we visited, so as not to attract undue attention.

Selection of research participants

Research participants included traditional rulers, whose permission we sought to conduct interviews within their communities (see Figure 3). Respect for the hierarchy or chain of command was important to these traditional rulers. In one of the communities, a Bulama (ward scribe) was our contact, but our interview session was disrupted by the Lawan (ward head), who felt that we had disregarded his authority and obtained permission from his subordinate. We apologised and admitted that it was an oversight before the Lawan allowed us to continue with the interviews in his “domain”. Our experience here showed that local power relations (in)directly shape participant recruitment.

While it is helpful in fragile contexts to depend on local contacts for the selection of research participants, it had its downsides. In one community, three of the six women invited for a focus group discussion (FGD) session were from the same household, indicating selection bias. During the interview, they signalled to the other women not to disclose information to the research team. Though the three women spoke less, two others (not related) were quite vocal and spoke extensively about their experiences of insecurity and with the ISPs.

Figure 3: Seeking permission from the Lawan (Ward Head) of Gwange II

Interviews and locations for sessions

Interview length varied. Some respondents were not so expressive, but we let chatty respondents speak for as long as they wished. This often helped to draw the less expressive respondent(s) back into the conversation, enriching the information disclosed. For some respondents, the interview sessions seemed “therapeutic”, helping them to relieve the trauma they had experienced while the insurgency raged in Maiduguri. Even though issues of insurgent attacks were outside the scope of my research, respondents often linked their current experiences with the past. The research team allowed the respondents to speak freely, and this extended the time for some interview sessions.

It was also important for the research team to correct the respondents’ assumptions that we were generating information to “solve the security issues” in Maiduguri. As communities that had experienced violent insurgent activities, the level of despair was palpable. Thus, every visitor was seen as a staff of an international humanitarian organisation that had come to the rescue of the community. The research team clearly explained the purpose of the interviews before commencing any session. In addition, to minimise the risk of getting “pre-coded” answers to the research questions, my team limited the information we gave about the research to the local guides.

Interviews and FGDs were conducted mainly in open spaces and primary school premises, which were considered safe spaces by the respondents (see Figure 4). While men had no issues with having interviews in open spaces, women felt more comfortable having interviews in enclosed spaces away from the prying eyes of passers-by. On one occasion, the local contact even insisted that we hold the FGD with women in the sitting room of one of the respondents’ homes, as this was viewed as “culturally appropriate”. Women preferred enclosed, more private spaces as part of religious considerations – especially for Muslim women, whose religion places restrictions on their mobility and visibility. On the other hand, the preference for enclosed spaces ensured that the female respondents were not seen speaking to “strangers” – a situation that could potentially place them at odds with other community members.

Figure 4: FGD sessions with men (outdoors) and women (in a classroom) in Maiduguri

Adjusting research plans to prevailing conditions

Flexibility is key when conducting research in fragile contexts. My initial plan was to have 20 interviews with residents, 12 key informant interviews and eight FGDs. However, this changed to 15 interviews, 22 key informant interviews and nine FGDs, in addition to informal chats with the locals. We made impromptu adjustments, as issues arose during fieldwork. On one occasion, for example, field assistants asked us to reduce the number of interviews we had planned because the community was unsafe, and they did not want an extensive visit. Instead, we held FGDs in that community, which allowed us to cover a wider range of residents in a shorter time.

Informal interactions were useful in understanding the local context and confirmed some respondents’ narratives. Open to learning from everyone, I had random conversations with people I encountered during my daily fieldwork routine. One time I stopped a keke (tricycle) rider and asked him to take me to Mairi Kuwait – one of my study sites. He hesitated and narrated an unpleasant experience he had had in the past after conveying some passengers to the area. He told me that young male passengers “disappear” (run off) into the neighbourhood without paying their transport fare. If the driver tries to pursue them, he is threatened with mob action by armed youths. This account was instructive and was confirmed subsequently by interviews revealing that the community was notorious for knife fights, often involving young male rival groups.

Lessons learnt and next steps…

Generally, the fieldwork experience in Maiduguri was worthwhile. I found that the current perceptions of the state of security in Maiduguri by people living outside the city were quite different from the actual feelings and experiences of those living in the city.

While I formed my views of safety in Maiduguri during my month-long stay there, in some ways, I also constructed opinions of the city through the narratives of my field assistants. So, I felt comfortable visiting the areas that my field assistants considered as safe and avoided communities that they thought were unsafe. This is quite instructive, as researchers need to evaluate the safety of a place from the viewpoint of those living there and not from external assessors. As a first-time visitor to Maiduguri, I felt relatively safe going around some parts of the city in public transportation. Although I was easily identified as a visitor because I could not communicate effectively in Hausa, which is the language generally understood by residents, that did not affect my feelings of safety in the city.

Visiting the communities physically and interacting with the residents first-hand brought clarity to their living conditions and perspectives on informal security providers. I also learnt some valuable lessons from this fieldwork, particularly around engaging with local contacts and the practicality of research in fragile contexts. My take-home insight is that it is vital to have a back-up plan in situations where the local contact’s choices might undermine your research and result in selection bias. This can be accomplished by introducing an on-the-spot random selection of research participants apart from the pre-selected participants, in order to compare the information generated. It is also useful to be adaptable, so that changes can be made to the interview questions, choice of interview method (for instance, switching from individual interviews to FGDs), research strategies and number of interviews. While these lessons are important, contexts and experiences may vary. It is crucial to approach fieldwork in fragile contexts with an open mind, willing to make decisions and adjustments as the work progresses and with an understanding of the context and local culture.

Finally, researcher, fieldworker and participant safety are paramount, particularly when researching insecurity. Research for me is about bravery, being inquisitive and facilitating respectful mutual learning, but not taking unnecessary risks. The account above offers insights for other researchers on ways in which this can be achieved.

For the next steps, I sent the interviews to be translated and transcribed.  And while waiting for the transcripts and preparing for the writing up phase of the research, I am reflecting on how to make the research findings meaningful to the research participants, so that the exercise is impactful, rather than extractive.

Header photo credit: Patience Adzande

Sources: Figures 1, 3 and 4 are drawn from the author’s fieldwork, August 2022.

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

By Patience Adzande

While on fieldwork in Maiduguri, I met Aisha (not her real name), who introduced herself as the commander of the vigilante group in her community (Figure 1). I was pleasantly surprised and impressed – not just because she is a female member of the network of informal security providers but also because she occupies a high-ranking position in a male-dominated space.

But this story is not just about one woman; it is a broader discourse about representation, visibility and diversity in informal policing. It is also about how the lack of diversity affects informal policing, interactions with community residents and the enforcement of social control in communities in Maiduguri.

Though the theme of gender and policing has received attention in wider research, the emphasis has been on formal policing and women. (In)formal policing can be gendered in its composition, in the roles assigned to its members and in its responses to crime and social misconduct by members of the communities they serve.

Three questions come to mind in the context of informal policing in Maiduguri:

• How does the composition of informal security groups shape their interactions with different categories of community residents?
• How do informal security providers perceive and respond to (young) men and women deemed (potential) offenders?
• And how can gendered security needs be mainstreamed into broader informal security provisioning?

Insights from fieldwork in Maiduguri help to address these questions and the broader implications for urban security and informal policing.

Figure 1: Interacting with Aisha during fieldwork in Maiduguri

Gender imbalance in informal security groups

Informal security providers (ISPs) in Maiduguri, including traditional rulers, community security committees, vigilante, hunters’ groups and Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF), are dominated by men. Due to cultural and religious norms, all the traditional rulers are men. Every community in Maiduguri is headed by a Lawan (ward head), who is supported by the Bulama(s) (ward scribe). The Bulamas constitute the community security committees.

In some communities, there are three separate committees: one for each of these groups – women, male youths and men. However, in one of the communities covered in this research, all 30 members of the committee selected by the Bulama and residents are “elders”, which, in the Nigerian context, typically refers to older men. Thus, in this community, elderly men make decisions on issues of safety and security that affect children, youths and women. This could be problematic, because men may not fully understand women’s vulnerabilities and their safety concerns. And when gendered safety and security needs are not considered, informal policing may be undermined.

Women constitute a very small proportion of the membership of the informal security groups. This lack of diversity is driven by social norms that project activities like informal policing as men’s work. And in communities where there are female ISPs, they are rarely visible and are often unknown, even by female members of the communities. Female ISPs often do not wear their uniforms publicly, due to the stigmatisation they face. The need to disguise and remain invisible is also linked to the role that female members play as informants for the ISPs.

Relatedly, the prevailing perceptions of female ISP members as morally bankrupt and as women of easy virtue (karuwa in Hausa language) has caused many women to shy away from enrolling. Furthermore, women who are interested in joining the ISPs usually have to obtain permission from their husbands or brothers – who have mostly disapproved of their intentions to participate in informal policing.

In terms of age, there initially was no age specification for membership of the CJTF. However, this was revisited after the United Nations (UN) raised concerns about the recruitment of children into the CJTF. Consequently, children were restricted from participating in informal policing and the state regulator of the CJTF issued a standing order banning the engagement of children by the ISPs (see Figure 2). Currently, only adults aged 18 years and over are allowed to be members of all informal security groups.

Figure 2: The CJTF regulator’s position on child recruitment

Gender roles in informal security provisioning

There are limited roles for women in the current practice of informal policing. Women usually serve as informants, being sent to infiltrate social events such as wedding ceremonies to gather information for the ISPs. According to one of the ISPs interviewed, women are suitable informants because they are chatty, especially when amongst other women, and so can apply this skill in intelligence-gathering. Since the predominant religion practised (Islam) prohibits men from having direct engagement with women (except their wives) and vice versa, women must work only with women. Being an informant is sometimes viewed as a simple task but, in reality, such roles place women in a position of vulnerability and potential harm. For example, women’s safety is compromised as they receive threats, are targeted for revenge and often risk being ostracised by other women in the community.

Women are also posted to the major market in Maiduguri, where their roles involve searching females suspected of shoplifting and hiding stolen items in their hijab. Women also keep watch at the riverbanks, to prevent underage or inexperienced kids from swimming and to report incidents of drowning to relevant authorities. Other roles, like using firearms to fight insurgents, keeping watch in the bushes and forests, night patrols and handling other violent or hostile situations, are allocated to male members of the informal security groups. The division of labour suggests that women are allocated what Silvestri referred to as “safer station assignments”, which are perceived to be less risky, while men handle the traditional masculine aspects of informal policing.

Men are disproportionately favoured over women in placements in leadership positions of informal security groups. The ISPs have unit chairmen in all communities, commander or chairman at the ward and sector levels and president or commander at the state level. Aisha is a rare example of a woman occupying a position of leadership in these groups.

Gendered responses to crime by informal security providers

Research has identified an entrenched masculinity in formal policing, which negatively impacts both men and women. This is also the case with informal policing, as the strategies used for the enforcement of social control and policing by the ISPs vary for different categories of people in the communities they serve. Residents’ differential experiences of informal policing are often exacerbated by gender stereotypes.

Preconceived notions and perceptions of young males as “wild and stubborn” shape how they are treated by the ISPs. The ISPs blame overprotective mothers for contributing to the deviant behaviour of youths in the communities. Thus, tagging male youths as recalcitrant means that they are policed more strictly than female youths by the ISPs. Some members of the CJTF even brag proudly about being feared by youths in the communities. The traditional rulers further affirmed that the youths only “listen” when the CJTF is involved in a matter.

As a result of such preconceived notions, all male suspects are deemed guilty until they are proven innocent. The ISPs have been accused of flogging male suspects, often inflicting grievous bodily harm and even causing death. For instance, a boy who was (falsely) accused of stealing a goat was tied upside-down to a stake and flogged by members of the hunters’ group until he died. Stories abound of the ISPs flogging youths who were later proven to be innocent. In all the interviews I conducted, however, not one mention was made of female offenders being flogged by the ISPs.

Male and female youths are also policed through the imposition of curfews to deter crimes against women and general immorality. This aspect of moral policing is particularly targeted at unmarried females, to prevent them from becoming “wayward”. One of the ISPs reported that “when parents send their female children on errands outside their homes by 5pm, they usually say no … because if they go out, they will be arrested by the ISPs”. When such girls are arrested, they are cautioned and released or forced to return home in the company of the ISPs. Residents also alleged that the ISPs often use “abusive and vulgar words” on youths who are arrested after curfew hours.

For incidences of domestic violence, it is deemed inappropriate and unacceptable for wives to report their husbands to the CJTF. Reporting is viewed as humiliating to the husband. Cases of domestic violence are reported to the traditional rulers, who are responsible for resolving such issues amicably. The cultural and religious norms shield men from the “embarrassment” they may face if issues of domestic violence are made public. 

“Achieving gender equality in and through policing is not simply about increasing the number of women involved in informal security provision. It is also about transforming the power relations that perpetuate inequality and subservience.”

In some communities, there is a high prevalence of rape cases. The fact that the most active and visible members of the ISP groups are men means that if women choose to report incidents of rape to the ISPs when they occur, invariably they will be required to report them to men. Women are also not able to report a rape incident without the consent of their husbands. This is one of the reasons why some rape cases, including intimate partner violence, have remained unreported.

In one of the communities, a 13-year-old girl was raped, and became pregnant. The case was reported by her father to the Bulama. Her father requested “an amicable resolution”, which was for the offender to marry the victim to avoid the “shame” associated with such acts. The Bulama ordered the CJTF to arrest the offender, so that he would be forced to marry the victim. However, the Lawan intervened, and advised the Bulama to report the case to the National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons (NAPTIP). The timely intervention of the Lawan led to the prosecution of the offender.

This situation in Maiduguri shows how cultural and legal norms intersect with the gendered structures of informal security provision to shape gendered experiences of security in profound ways. It also reflects how a deficiency in training on appropriate measures for addressing gender-based violence could lead to improper handling of incidents and the potential denial of justice for victims.

Mainstreaming gender and gendered security needs in informal policing

It is evident that the underrepresentation of women and the dominance of men in informal policing has produced some negative outcomes in experiences and perceptions of safety and security in Maiduguri. The lack of diversity and representation of women in informal policing mirrors society and contemporary state policing across the world. Though the need for diversity is imperative, religion and culture remain significant constraints to the inclusion of women in informal policing in this city. Social norms place expectations on women that result in exclusion and reinforce patriarchal sentiments, (un)intentionally limiting women’s ability to express themselves and contribute to the safety and security of their communities.

Achieving gender equality in and through policing is not simply about increasing the number of women involved in informal security provision. It is also about transforming the power relations that perpetuate inequality and subservience. Thus, platforms like the community security committees, exclusively made up of and run by women, can be strengthened and utilised to understand the particular vulnerabilities and security needs of women. It is important for women to be active and not just passive agents of security provisioning in their communities. And the strategies for organising informal security to ensure gender inclusivity will be explored in a forthcoming journal article.

Header photo credit: Patience Adzande

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

Header photo credit: SimplyCreativePhotography / iStock. Mathare informal settlement in Nairobi, Kenya.

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

By Patience Adzande

Since 2009, communities in Borno State, Nigeria, including Maiduguri, have been experiencing violent attacks perpetrated by the Boko Haram insurgent group. In response to the threats of insurgency, the government deployed its security apparatus to secure the state. Over time, it became evident that the military and police could not effectively deal with the insurgency. Thus, in 2013, residents of Maiduguri formed the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) to complement the counterinsurgency efforts of the state security forces.

Though other informal security providers (ISPs) existed in Maiduguri prior to the onset of the insurgency, the work of the CJTF consolidated and reaffirmed the relevance of community policing. So, a hybrid form of “security architecture” emerged – with the formal security forces depending on the informal security providers’ local knowledge of the environment and intelligence-gathering capabilities.

The synergy between the state and non-state security providers appears to have brought relative calm to Maiduguri. However, the long years of insurgency created favourable conditions for crime to thrive. Thus, as the insurgent threats receded, there was an evident surge in other forms of criminality in the city, necessitating the intensification of community policing efforts.

How have the (in)formal security providers contributed to addressing the worsening criminal activities in the city? Fieldwork in Maiduguri revealed the types of (in)formal security providers that exist in the city and their roles in urban safety and security. This has implications for urban security reforms in Nigeria.

Figure 1: Location of Maiduguri

Mapping the complex landscape of (in)formal security provision in Maiduguri

The configuration of community policing in Maiduguri presents a complicated network of actors, roles, levels of interactions, engagement and patronage (see Figure 2). On the one hand, there are the informal security providers, like the urban traditional rulers (Bulama, Lawan), community security committees, vigilante groups, hunters’ groups and the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF). On the other hand, there are formal security providers, like the military, police, the Department of State Services (DSS), the Nigerian Security and Civil Defence Corps (NSCDC) and the National Drug Law Enforcement Agency (NDLEA).

Collectively, the security providers often converge on broader platforms, such as the Police Community Relations Committee (PCRC) and state security council, to forge partnerships for urban safety. More specifically, the traditional rulers act informally as “chief security officers” of their communities. They are responsible for constituting the community security committees, in order to partner with them in ensuring residents’ safety.

The vigilante and hunters’ groups have a long and varied history in Nigeria. Vigilantes engage in crime prevention and control at the neighbourhood level, while hunters’ groups deploy their game hunting expertise to curb criminal activities in the forests and fringes of the city. In Maiduguri, however, the hunters’ groups are also involved in urban security.

Conversely, the Civilian Joint Task Force is a name coined to portray the collaborative efforts of ordinary community members (civilians) and the military in combating violence. The CJTF also exists in other parts of Nigeria, where it is mainly engaged in preventing and managing rural conflicts. In Maiduguri, the CJTF is currently made up of two groups – the volunteers and those absorbed into the newly created Borno Youth Empowerment Scheme (BOYES). The Department of State Services vets and profiles the volunteers recruited into BOYES, while the Ministry of Justice regulates the activities of the CJTF.

Figure 2: The complex landscape of (in)formal security provision in Maiduguri

The creation of BOYES is an attempt by the state government to “formalise”, restructure and legitimise the CJTF. BOYES recruits wear uniforms (see Figure 3), are trained by the military and other organisations, are permitted to carry arms, and receive a monthly stipend of 20,000 Naira (approximately 45 USD). BOYES is structured into units. These include the rapid response squad and special forces, which collaborate, through joint tactical operations, active combat and patrols, with the military and the police. Other units, such as the agro-rangers, work with the NSCDC to protect farmers against attacks by the insurgents. The neighbourhood watch unit of BOYES primarily targets the enforcement of order and crime control at the neighbourhood level and in public spaces. The creation of BOYES has, however, left many volunteers feeling excluded from what they perceive to be the “reward package” for privileged members of the CJTF.

Figure 3: ISP uniforms and other paraphernalia

The remit of the activities of the ISPs is broad. It covers everything that the community leaders and informal security providers define as crime or misdemeanour, based on the law, religion, morality or culture. For instance, BOYES officials usually apprehend and give (unsolicited) haircuts to males with dreadlocks or “unacceptable” hairstyles. This practice is a form of moral policing and could be viewed in other contexts as a violation of citizens’ fundamental human rights.

The ISPs secure communities and public places by providing routine surveillance services, controlling crowds at events, gathering intelligence (a role also played by female members), dispersing male and female youths seen “hanging out” when darkness falls, closing brothels, resolving disputes, including domestic conflicts, and preventing the occurrence of crime. Offenders are usually apprehended and punished by the ISPs. At other times, they are handed over to the police, the NDLEA, the military or the NSCDC, depending on the crime committed and the proximity of the formal security institution.

Our analysis shows that the ISPs go by different names but basically perform similar and overlapping roles. Some residents could not differentiate the ISPs, but it was evident that the CJTF had gained more prominence than the other groups.

Informal security providers in urban security: Yes, no or maybe?

The level of engagement with the ISPs in Maiduguri varies from one community to another, depending on residents’ experiences with the ISPs. In three of the five communities studied, residents were more likely to report crime incidents first to the traditional rulers or the ISPs, while in the other two communities, residents were more inclined to report crimes directly to the police.

Residents expressed dissatisfaction with the ways in which the police handle cases and persons reported to them. For instance, they reported that offenders are often released without investigation and prosecution; and the police do not investigate a reported crime if they consider the crime “trivial” or if there is no prospect of getting some “kickback”.

In a similar vein, the ISPs have also been accused of perpetrating and enabling crime, sometimes in connivance with military or police officers. Some residents also alleged that the ISPs are brutal in dealing with offenders and often display favouritism, especially when their members or relatives have been involved in a crime.

Despite these negative reports, the ISPs are generally perceived to be more effective than the police in curbing crime in the low-income communities. Some of the residents view the ISPs as a reliable alternative to the formal security structures.

So, do informal security providers have a place in cities?

Residents of low-income and high-income communities will answer this question differently. The privatisation of security reinforces and highlights the disparities that exist in cities. In Maiduguri, the ISPs are members of low-income communities, who must take responsibility for securing their residences, while the residents of high-income areas enjoy the privilege of living behind high fences and employing private security guards.

On the other hand, formal security institutions like the police and the NSCDC, which have direct oversight of the safety and security of people and property, have not lived up to residents’ expectations. Residents cited inefficiency and its effects, including slow response to criminal incidents, poor police–community relations, high levels of crime, low number of arrests and prosecutions, lack of trust, and corruption, which facilitate criminality. Seeing successes recorded by the incorporation of ISPs in counterinsurgency efforts, the residents have continued to rely on the ISPs for safety and security within the city.

Though reports have cautioned about the dangers of engaging non-state actors in counterinsurgency in conflict zones like Maiduguri, their contributions to urban safety and security seem undeniable. It is evident that the “informal” fills in the gap left by the inefficiencies of the state and its institutions.

Further reading

Brechenmacher, S (2019). “Stabilizing Northeast Nigeria after Boko Haram”. Working paper. Washington, DC: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Felbab-Brown, V (2018). “‘In Nigeria, we don’t want them backʼ: Amnesty, defectors’ programs, leniency measures, informal reconciliation, and punitive responses to Boko Haram”. The Limits of Punishment: Transitional Justice and Violent Extremism, Nigeria Case Study. New York: United Nations University Centre for Policy Research.

Header photo credit: Patience Adzande

Sources: Figures 2 and 3 are drawn from the author’s fieldwork, August 2022.

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

Tell us a bit about your background…

My name is Patience Adzande and I was born and raised in Nigeria. I obtained a PhD in urban and regional planning from the Benue State University, Makurdi, Nigeria in 2017. During my PhD study, I received the Dissertation Research Fellowship (2013) and the Dissertation Completion Fellowship Award (2014) from the Social Science Research Council’s (SSRC) Next Generation Social Sciences in Africa programme. In 2017, I also received the SSRC’s African Peacebuilding Network grant to conduct research on farmer-herder conflicts in Central Nigeria.

Before joining ACRC, I was a lecturer at the Benue State University. My research interest in crime and the built environment was motivated by the works of Jane Jacobs and Oscar Newman. However, my decision to focus on broader issues of human security became imperative with increasing conflict and violence in rural and urban areas of Nigeria. Currently, my research focuses on the influence of the built environment on crime patterns; residents’ experiences of safety and (in)security in cities; informal policing in cities; the role of conflict/violence in re-configuring urban spaces and shaping lived experiences in cities; the lived experiences of internally displaced people (IDPs) in non-camp situations; and farmer-herder conflicts in Nigeria.

How would you explain your research to a friend or family member?

My research focuses on the spatial dynamics of crime and violence in cities from an urban planning perspective and at contestations over natural resources in rural areas of Nigeria; looking at:

• How different kinds of spaces influence the occurrence or clustering of crime, and enhance perceptions of safety;
• Why certain urban spaces are safer than others;
• How urban spaces are re-configured by conflicts or violence and how the lives of city residents are (re)shaped by violence – in terms of residential location choices, decisions on intra-urban mobility and perceptions of the “other”;
• Rural insecurity in Central Nigeria, with particular emphasis on farmer-herder conflicts and its attendant consequences;
• The lived experiences of urban displaced persons – particularly focusing on their ability (agency) to navigate their new environments.

I focus on human security because safety and security are central to the attainment of liveable and inclusive cities. With the forecasts suggesting that Africa is fast becoming an urban continent, it has become necessary to intensify research on safety and security, to contribute to the development of policies and planning interventions that will make African cities safe for all.

What does your role within ACRC entail?

As a postdoctoral fellow attached to ACRC’s safety and security domain, I’ll work with the domain leads, city leads and other team members to sharpen the focus of the domain’s research in the selected cities, also ensuring that the workplans and themes are synchronised and aligned. I’ll also liaise with and provide support to the city research leads and projects, and contribute knowledge based on my past experiences of conducting research on human security issues. I will also be contributing to the academic aspect of the research by conducting literature reviews on relevant research themes and writing academic articles, blog posts and reports – and possibly featuring in podcasts to support uptake and dissemination of our work.

“I’m happy to be a part of a team committed to contributing to policy formulation, through generating evidence-based knowledge on African cities.”

What are you finding most interesting about your work with ACRC so far? What are you most excited about?

What I’m finding most interesting in my work with ACRC so far is gaining new knowledge – especially using political settlements as an analytical framework for critical urban development issues, observing the research that the other postdoctoral fellows are conducting, and learning more about (and looking forward to visiting) other African cities covered by ACRC. I’m happy to be a part of a team committed to contributing to policy formulation, through generating evidence-based knowledge on African cities.

The opportunity that ACRC has provided for me to meet and work with scholars that I would ordinarily only read about in the literature is something I’m excited about – particularly having the chance to work with Paula Meth, who will serve as my mentor during the period of the fellowship. Working with ACRC also affords me the opportunity to actualise my dream of expanding the scope of my research beyond Nigeria to other African cities.

In fewer than five words, what one issue do you think needs to be prioritised to improve urban development in African cities?

Safety and security.

What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?

I enjoy watching movies and spending quality time with friends and family.

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.

By Patience Adzande, Steve Commins and Lucy Earle

Many residents of African cities are vulnerable to widespread manifestations of violence, including crime, political and ethnically motivated intimidation, and threats to property, both housing and land rights. These residents thus feel insecure, due to the risk of personal and communal harm and loss or damage to property.  

The recognition that safety and security are matters of primary concern for urban households, especially low-income and vulnerable groups, is grounded in the lived experiences and perceptions of these people. In conflict-affected states, insecurity also involves the resolution of conflicts and armed insurgencies which have taken to the streets of the city, resulting in the forced displacement and integration of internally displaced people (IDPs) in urban areas.

For residents to feel secure, they need to have their lived experiences and perceptions included at the heart of approaches addressing the challenge of urban security. Such approaches would be designed to tackle the problems that underpin different impacts of violence, rather than treating its symptoms. 

When residents experience insecurity and see themselves at risk of both structural and interpersonal violence, the normalisation of violence can increase the gap between citizen and state, as well as between citizens. These interdependent relationships are often complex because the same context can be secure or insecure, depending on the time of day or the identity of the individual, including their affiliations or connections.

Violence undermines economic growth, deepens mistrust of security and justice institutions, and frequently leads to the emergence of non-state organisations that enforce forms of “street justice”. Distrust of the state grows when security forces are heavy-handed, and this can lead to a breakdown in the ability of public institutions to maintain order.  Young people are often the target of harsh policing, and there is also a widespread lack of facilities for juvenile justice.

Insecurity and vulnerability have impacts at the individual, household and neighbourhood levels in urban areas. Perceived and real threats of violence in various forms, for example, exposure to crime or the threat of political or ethnic militias, can limit mobility – particularly for women and girls, and various ethnic groups – with knock-on impacts on education, livelihoods and general wellbeing. Levels of insecurity and vulnerability are influenced by the socioeconomic and demographic characteristics of residents, the physical conditions of urban areas and the existence of governance gaps in cities.

Marginalisation of informal settlements

Safety and security can be maintained and promoted by both state and non-state actors. However, security may be absent in part because of the social, spatial and political marginalisation of a city’s informal settlements. In many cases, this marginalisation has led to “local government voids”, which further contribute to a crisis of governance, trust and inclusion. Such voids emerge when different forms of everyday insecurity come together: basic services, police protection and political attention disappear or require bribes or favours.

When these voids exist for long enough, other powerholders or power seekers will step in opportunistically. “Hybrid governance” arrangements evolve, where certain areas of a city are governed by various informal community organisations, clan-based militias, gangs or other manifestations of non-state powerholders. Elsewhere, residents may rely on private security to protect life and property, or create community-based mechanisms for policing and justice. Different forms of “co-production” can evolve, some based on coalitions of private and public security services, and others based on instances where political actors are connected to or negotiate with cartels that control basic services.

At a city-wide level, urban areas that are perceived to have particularly high levels of interpersonal violence and/or are considered to have significant problems with militias, gangs and organised crime, may be unattractive to international business and investment. There can also be stigma attached to residents of such areas, which can generate insecurity for them outside of their own neighbourhood. Local enterprises may be hampered by threats and extortion. Charges for rental units, water and electricity may all be extracted by threats of violence. Where informal community organisations or criminal networks are involved in service provision (such as transport, water, electricity), local authorities suffer loss of revenue and may struggle to improve access to or restore basic services.  

Experience of and levels of safety and security, or of violence, are strongly correlated with livelihoods, gender and ethnicity. Violence may be used by city actors (including elected officials) to achieve political or narrowly constructed “development” goals, for example through “slum” clearances that are often accompanied by brutality and wanton destruction of personal possessions. In African cities, policing that aims to reduce crime in middle- to high-income neighbourhoods may involve violating the rights of those living in low-income settlements, including through harshly enforced and inequitable curfews and extra-judicial executions.

Community characteristics and insecurity

Additionally, the characteristics of low-income urban communities are closely connected to a lack of safety and security.  For example, forms of insecurity may include:

• Houses constructed of temporary materials that do not adequately protect occupants or property from the elements or from physical threats.
• Insecurity of tenure, which may increase the risk of eviction.
• Displacement, where populations have arrived from rural areas, due to conflicts, climate change, lack of livelihoods and access to land.
• Weak governance and lack of voice for low-income and disadvantaged people.
• Highly unequal access to services, with inadequate levels of service provision in low-income neighbourhoods.

Violence may contribute further to the lack of access to services, and to further weakening social cohesion and trust. Many low-income people live at a physical and social distance from formal NGOs or government agencies. Thus, when they face pressures from different forms of violence, hindering access to schools and livelihoods, they may lack formal systems of support. They may also mistrust the response of duty bearers such as police, judicial and other state actors. In addition, gender-related violence includes not only household violence but threats that prevent access to sanitation and water services. For young people, the key elements of the transition to adulthood are often truncated by the experience of or exposure to violence.

Understanding and improving security: ACRC research intervention

Initially focusing on Freetown, Maiduguri, Mogadishu and Nairobi, the security domain will consider different forms of “everyday insecurity”, along spatial and temporal lines, as well as how the same urban area can contain spaces that are relatively secure and those that are highly insecure. The domain will take a “street politics” approach, reflecting urban residents’ lived experiences and perceptions of insecurity and different sources of violence. The domain will seek to move away from discourses of security as control, to an understanding of security according to the experience of city residents.  It will contribute towards an exploration of measures that reduce the prevalence of violence, and attempt to address the lived perceptions and fear of violence.

The initial research will contribute to a better understanding of how addressing these issues relates to urban policies that increase residents’ trust in their public officials, delivering basic services, and designing urban plans that are flexible in the face of continued in-migration and local insecurity. Governance based on the perceptions and experiences from the street can then help to forge a link between increased trust of citizens, including young people, and access to basic services, a perception of a fair judicial system, and trust in redefining the roles and authority of accountable policing on the street.

Header photo credit: Peeter Viisimaa / Getty Images. Lagos street seen through wire fencing.

Note: This article presents the views of the author featured and does not necessarily represent the views of the African Cities Research Consortium as a whole.

The African Cities blog is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0), which means you are welcome to repost this content as long as you provide full credit and a link to this original post.