Extremism camps in Africa’s backyards by Eze Ogbu

In a world increasingly desensitized to the word "terrorism," the recent killings of ten innocent people by the ISIS-affiliate in Mozambique’s Niassa Reserve should jolt us awake. Not because it is shocking, we’ve tragically come to expect such headlines but because it is depressingly normal now. The bloodshed in the middle of a conservation zone, meant to protect nature from man, is now also a graveyard of humanity at the hands of a warped ideology. Yes, ISIS is in Africa, but perhaps the more alarming truth is that Africa’s political systems may have left the doors wide open.

ISIS may no longer hold its caliphate in Iraq and Syria, but the group has never truly disappeared. Like a virus, it has mutated, infected other regions, and found new, fertile ground in Africa. From the Sahel to the shores of Mozambique, what was once a distant Middle Eastern menace is now camping under acacia trees and turning national parks into military theaters. What’s worse? We are watching it unfold with the same shocked face we reserve for reality TV plot twists, without ever changing the channel.

Let’s be clear: this is not simply about ten deaths in a remote region of Mozambique. It’s about the slow, silent unraveling of Africa’s sovereignty and internal security, an unraveling fueled not just by AK-47s and explosive vests, but by political neglect, poverty, and a dangerous international silence.

Niassa Reserve should be known for elephants, not executions. Yet here we are, reading reports of roaming militants, burned villages, and terrified locals fleeing an area that should be one of the country’s ecological treasures. If ISIS is hiding in national parks, it’s because they know no one is looking there. Mozambique’s military is underfunded, overstretched, and poorly trained. The international community, when not hand-wringing, is busy drawing more maps than sending real help. You can’t blame the elephants for not doing counterterrorism work.

And still, Western analysts will write reports with phrases like "ISIS is exploiting local grievances." No kidding. Of course they are. When governance is a half-drunk promise, when infrastructure ends at the minister’s summer house, and when the youth have no jobs but access to Facebook propaganda, what exactly do you think will happen?

This isn’t just an African problem. It’s a problem about how we’ve allowed extremist ideologies to morph and adapt, like a geopolitical cockroach, squashed in one country, thriving in the pantry of another.

Mozambique is not alone. Nigeria still battles Boko Haram and its ISIS-linked cousins in the northeast. Mali is in pieces. Somalia’s Al-Shabaab operates with almost corporate efficiency. The Democratic Republic of Congo? Add it to the list.

The problem with many African governments and here’s the politically incorrect truth — is that they’re often more concerned with cementing personal power than protecting public peace. Corruption, tribal divisions, and incompetence create the perfect greenhouse for terrorism to grow.

ISIS didn’t invent African suffering. But it sure knows how to weaponize it.

Here’s a game: every time a terrorist attack kills people in Africa, count how many Western leaders tweet their condolences. You’ll run out of fingers quickly. And yet, if the same attack happened in Paris or New York, flags would be at half-mast before your morning espresso.

This isn’t just a moral failure. It’s a strategic one. Terrorism doesn’t stay local for long. When extremists gain territory in Mozambique, they gain training grounds, propaganda videos, and oil routes to exploit. In other words, the global stage is just a connecting flight away. But the world reacts to African crises with the same enthusiasm it reserves for watching paint dry. The irony? That paint might be blood-red if we keep ignoring it.

Here’s the bitter truth: groups like ISIS don’t need to run governments anymore. They only need to disrupt them. They win not by constructing societies but by deconstructing them, brick by bureaucratic brick. And they’re doing a damn good job of it in Africa.

It’s time to call this what it is not just terrorism, but the outsourced failure of global responsibility. Mozambique’s militants may carry black flags, but the smoke rising from the Niassa Reserve is a gray area of blame that touches local leaders, international silence, and our collective apathy.

The people dying in Africa are not footnotes to someone else’s war on terror. They are the frontline of a battle the world has outsourced to the world’s poorest. And every time we ignore the deaths in Niassa, we’re letting the extremists win, not with bullets, but with the silence between them.

Africa isn’t falling into the hands of extremists. It’s being quietly handed over.

Let’s not pretend we didn’t see it coming.