On the Ground in the Nigerian Villages under Attack
Patience is a 19-year-old Christian girl who has suffered far more grave injustices than most people are forced to endure in their lifetime.
In 2018, her father was killed by Fulani terrorists who broke into their house in the middle of the night.
In 2019, her grandfather and three of her extended relatives were killed in another Fulani attack on her village.
In 2020, she was raped by Fulani terrorists. At the time, she was just 14 years old.
In February 2026, her uncle also died at the hands of a Fulani terrorist.
Patience is from Plateau State, Nigeria, where I visited with the humanitarian organization Christian Freedom International a few months ago.
We were able to meet Patience and dozens of other Nigerian survivors of persecution and attacks. Many people rightly point out that the situation in Nigeria is complex, but staying next to a village known for facing repeated attacks and visiting survivors of persecution in their homes starts to bring the picture into focus.
I visited the small corner shop belonging to Amarachi, a middle-aged woman who could not be more ecstatic to see us. She showed us around her small shop — which she managed to start with the help of an organization who gave her seed money and taught her the basics about business.
After having us try a Nigerian snack, she wanted to show us her home several blocks away. In the modest rented house that she shared with her adult children, she told us about her husband’s death several years prior.
He was on his way home from a weekday prayer meeting at church when he was ambushed. Fulani militants rushed out of tall grass nearby and slaughtered him on the path. It was believed they were looking to target Christians leaving the church that day.
His wife and children were left to mourn their father’s death and do the best they could to carry on. His children are in college now. Amarachi had to provide for the family, so she opened her small store.
But Amarachi’s husband’s death wasn’t the end of the terror the family would face. Her village — located close to a Nigerian military lookout — routinely faces raids from Fulani militants. Typically, the militants target this village for kidnappings, charging steep ransoms to release the kidnapped victims. Families and churches must band together to offer a ransom and negotiate down to a feasible price.
One expert told me that kidnappings and ransoms are the militants’ largest source of income. These groups are often better equipped than the Nigerian military itself. When a large group of Fulani militants launches an attack, the military has been known to tell villagers to flee because they cannot defend against the militants.
My friend from Christian Freedom International asked Amarachi if she felt safe from local Fulani attacks since she had a courtyard door, main door to her house, and bedroom door — all with sturdy-looking locks. She gave us a confused look and said no. Our Nigerian driver explained that these would do little to stop attackers. He said they could break through any lock and gain entrance to any building. He called them “experts” at it.
I asked what she does during the overnight raids. Amarachi said that she simply lies in her bed and prays and tells her children to do the same. She doesn’t flee the village like many residents do during an attack. She believes that she has suffered enough, and God will not let her suffer more. So far, the militants haven’t targeted Amarachi’s house.
As an outsider, it’s difficult to grasp the normalized level of fear that must accompany daily life in a Christian village in Northern Nigeria. Yet, terrorism isn’t new for Nigerian Christians. The last few decades have seen an increase in the rise of Islamist terrorism and general violence against vulnerable Christian communities in Northern Nigeria. In 2014, the infamous terrorist group Boko Haram was at its height, seizing control of approximately 70,000 square miles in Northeast Nigeria.
In Jos, we met siblings Joy and Gabriel. They are now teenagers, but as children, they and their mother were captured by Boko Haram and held in one of their camps for over a month before being released. Their father was killed. Tears streaming down her face, Joy wanted to press through and share how Boko Haram destroyed her village in Northeast Nigeria, forcing those who survived to flee.
Patience, Joy, and Gabriel are now living at Christian Faith Institute (CFI), a non-denominational Bible school and ministry in Jos, Nigeria, where I was able to meet them. Founded by Australian missionaries Kent and Ruth Hodges, the ministry is dedicated to serving on the frontlines.
The Hodges, with their great African team, train Nigerians (and many from surrounding Sahel nations also impacted by terrorism), mainly from rural northern areas, to be pastors and missionaries themselves, equipping them to return to their villages across the north and share the good news of the gospel. At the Bible school, students are equipped with income-generating practical vocational training to be able to provide for themselves and their families. The Hodges also have a children’s crisis home and school that serves hundreds of kids, almost all of whom have faced persecution and terrorism themselves, like Joy and Gabriel.
While the violence in Nigeria has been ramping up for decades, it has gained more public awareness in the United States over the last few years. In November 2025, President Trump designated Nigeria as a “Country of Particular Concern” on religious freedom. The designation was first instated in the last year of President Trump’s first term and undone in President Biden’s first year in office.
On Christmas Day in 2025, the United States launched strikes against ISIS in northwestern Nigeria. In May 2026, the U.S. worked with Nigerian forces to strike more ISIS targets, killing the global ISIS second-in-command. However, experts and those on the ground say that the situation for Nigerian Christians has worsened, not improved, in recent months.
Now, religious freedom advocates are hoping the Trump administration keeps up the pressure on the Nigerian government until its leaders take concrete action and successfully protect Christians in Northern Nigeria. Though the darkness and gravity of the situation in Nigeria feel overwhelming, ministries like CFI are a reminder that God is at work there and hope is not lost.
On the last day of my trip, I spent time with one mother whose daughter asked when the “crisis” will end. She told her daughter she didn’t know if it would end, but to pray for protection for their family and for comfort for those experiencing loss.
Note: Names of the victims featured in this piece have been changed for their protection.


