Mayo-tsanaga crisis: boko haram’s relentless terror leaves villages in ashes

Over fifty deserted villages, thousands displaced, and the guilty silence of an absent state.

Boko Haram’s terror is no longer a distant threat—it has become a daily reality in the Mayo-Tsanaga region of Cameroon. Originating in Nigeria’s Borno State in the early 2000s, the insurgency crossed borders in 2014, striking first in Cameroon at Mount Gossi in Tourou, near Mokolo. Since then, hundreds of militants have entrenched themselves there, escalating attacks that burn, kill, pillage, and kidnap.

The insurgents target farms, markets, places of worship, gendarmerie posts, schools, and health centers. Thirteen years into this crisis, the attacks persist with no lasting solutions in sight. Villages empty out as populations flee, lands are abandoned, and lives are lost. Yet, the silence from authorities continues.

The devastation spans from Mokolo to Koza, extending into Mayo-Moskota, where over fifty villages have been completely or partially deserted. Among them: Gossi, Tourou, Vizik, Ldamang, Magoumaz, Ldubam, Dinglding, Chougoulé, Oupai, Houdahai, Vouzoud, Ldama, Ziver Montagne, Houva, Gouzda Wayam, Tchébé-Tchébé, Koza, Locktcha, Toufou, Guedjele-Guibedrom, Zelevet, Krawa-Mafa, Ldaoutsaf, Merekouet, Dzamadzaf, Hitéré, Bavangola, Vreket, and Gouzou-dou.

In May 2022, Mokolo’s fifth deputy mayor, Mahadek Nicolo Nouhou, reported to the Minister of Public Health, Manaouda Malachie, during the Fraternal Encounters of Mayo-Tsanaga in Tourou and Mokolo: ten villages completely deserted, two occupied by Boko Haram, and seven regularly attacked. Terrorists now have a near-permanent presence in Gossi, Toufou 1 and 2, Roum, and Hitawa—villages gradually abandoned by their residents.

The situation has worsened since. Residents of Tourou ask, “Are we, the people of Mayo-Tsanaga, not considered true Cameroonian citizens? Why does our silence persist as our homes burn?”

For over a decade, fear has gripped the region. By night, men flee; by day, they return. From Mokolo to Koza, no one sleeps at home. At dusk, they take refuge in mountains, sharing caves with wildlife to avoid attacks. Only at dawn do they descend to work their fields.

Facing heavily armed terrorists, Cameroon’s military presence is woefully inadequate. In Ldamang and Ldubam, during a June 18, 2026 attack at 2 AM, only two soldiers were present—hardly a match for well-equipped militants. Civilian vigilance committees, armed with machetes and sticks, often bear the brunt of defense.

The silence of local elites is complicit. Despite their influence, they remain mute even as Tourou burns and Koza mourns. Their inaction is a political choice. Ministers have visited, made promises, and held fraternal meetings—only for the attacks to resume unabated. The government’s commitments stay in Mokolo, while the crisis rages on.

More than 9,000 people displaced by Boko Haram have yet to return home, and the number keeps rising. In early June 2026 alone, the International Organization for Migration recorded 482 new displaced individuals—78 households—fleeing attacks in Mokolo, Koza, and Mayo-Moskota. The crisis extends beyond Mayo-Tsanaga: by early July 2026, a Kalfou commune official reported nearly 300 displaced persons arriving from Mokolo, some traveling over 200 kilometers to escape violence.

Those who flee leave behind their land, livelihoods, and even their dead. Identification papers—birth certificates and national IDs—are reduced to ashes with their homes. But the deepest tragedy is the separation of families. In the chaos of attacks, parents and children scatter, some forced to leave without their loved ones. Children and adolescents are left vulnerable, deprived of education and protection. Their futures darken: some abandon schooling, others turn to crime, while many young girls lose hope entirely.

The Mayo-Tsanaga is being emptied. Agriculture collapses. Schools close. Local economies vanish. If nothing changes, the region faces irreversible depopulation. The state cannot ignore its citizens simply because they live far from Yaoundé. How many more villages must burn before this crisis becomes a national priority?