The Al-Qaeda-linked fighters fuse insurgency with economic warfare, extending a conflict that spills across borders.

The jihadi group JNIM has been active in the Sahel for almost a decade. It recently caught the world’s attention after claiming its first attack in Nigeria, prompting a response from US President Donald Trump.

What is JNIM?

Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM) is Al-Qaeda’s Sahel franchise, formed in March 2017 from a merger of Mali-based factions including Ansar Dine and Katiba Macina.

It blends insurgency with rudimentary “governance” – Sharia courts, taxation and road tolls – to entrench itself in rural districts where the state is thin on the ground. Western governments list it as a terrorist organisation.

What just happened in Nigeria – and why is it a big deal?

On 28 October 2025 JNIM claimed its first attack in Nigeria, saying it killed a soldier in Kwara state near the Benin border.

Abuja is already battling Boko Haram and Islamic State West Africa Province; a third actor, tied to Al-Qaeda and experienced in cross-border operations, raises the risk of new fault lines along parklands and smuggling routes that straddle Benin, Niger and Nigeria.

Who leads JNIM?

The emir is Iyad Ag Ghali, a veteran Tuareg figure from northern Mali; the most prominent deputy is Amadou Koufa, who commands Katiba Macina in central Mali.

Both are under UN sanctions.

In June 2024 the International Criminal Court unsealed a warrant for Iyad over 2012–13 Timbuktu-era crimes. The move underscored the group’s continuity from the 2012 insurgency through to today’s regional campaign.

How big and how lethal is it?

Open-source estimates put JNIM’s manpower in the low thousands; analysts and field reporting this year cast it as the most potent militant force in the Sahel, outpacing state responses and rival jihadists in parts of Mali and Burkina Faso.

Its lethality is visible in mass-casualty raids – for example, Benin’s government reported 54 soldiers killed in April 2025 near the W-Arly-Pendjari park complex after a JNIM claim.

Is Bamako genuinely at risk of falling?

A sudden urban assault is unlikely, but JNIM has shown it can strangle Bamako indirectly.

Since September it has attacked and interdicted fuel convoys from Senegal, burning scores of tankers near Kayes and triggering shortages in the capital.

The government shut schools and universities in late October to conserve fuel, and queues lengthened across the city.

The aim is classic insurgent economics – make daily life harder, sap confidence in the junta and force concessions.

That is a threat to Bamako’s viability even without tanks on the ring road.

Where does JNIM operate – and how is the map shifting?

Core theatres remain Mali and Burkina Faso, with persistent activity in south-west Niger.

Since 2022 the group has pushed into northern Benin and probed Togo and Côte d’Ivoire.

The Nigeria claim points to further seepage along porous borders and protected areas that militants use as cover and corridors.

Coastal governments have tightened border units and reoriented patrols toward parklands after deadly incidents.

What are their fighting methods?

Tactically, JNIM is flexible. It stages complex ambushes and base overruns; lays improvised explosive devices on supply routes; extorts “zakat” (alms) from traders and pastoralists; and enforces movement bans to control roads.

This year it added a sharper economic-warfare edge – the fuel blockade – which has disrupted schooling, transport and food prices.

The group adapts commercial tech from messenger apps and small drones for reconnaissance to satellite internet kits when cell networks are cut.

Attribution of specific devices to specific battalions is often murky, but the broader pattern of tech adoption among Sahel armed actors is clear.

How is JNIM financed?

Revenue streams are local and diversified: roadside taxation, kidnap-for-ransom, cattle rustling and skimming from artisanal gold.

Cross-border smuggling networks and informal value transfer keep money moving even when banking channels are restricted by sanctions.

These methods make the group resilient to interdiction compared with centrally funded outfits.

What is its relationship with ISIS affiliates?

JNIM competes – and occasionally clashes – with Islamic State’s Sahel Province and Islamic State-West Africa Province (ISWAP).

Where both operate, they vie for recruits, taxation territory and routes. In other pockets there is parallel, non-cooperative coexistence.

The rivalry shapes where the violence lands: communities can be whipsawed as factions try to prove dominance.

Why do communities tolerate or acquiesce to JNIM?

Partly coercion, partly calculation. In places where officials and security forces are absent or predatory, JNIM mediates disputes, punishes banditry selectively and keeps markets open – at a price.

That shadow governance, combined with state abuses and inter-communal tensions, has fed recruitment, especially among marginalised young men.

It is a localist playbook aligned with Al-Qaeda’s gradualist doctrine.

What does the Nigeria claim tell us about JNIM’s strategy?

Two things. First, opportunism – the group looks for seams along borders and parks where state presence is light, then tests with low-cost strikes.

Second, messaging – a Nigeria claim signals reach to supporters and rivals alike.

Whether the group builds sustained networks inside Nigeria will depend on logistics, safe havens in Benin and Niger, and the reaction of Nigerian forces already stretched in the north and centre.

What are governments doing?

Nigeria has signalled it will accept external help that respects sovereignty; Benin has sought deeper regional cooperation after April’s losses; Mali has scrambled for alternative fuel supplies, reportedly striking a deal with Russia for petroleum deliveries, while trying to break the blockade with military escorts.

None of this addresses the governance deficits JNIM exploits, but it may buy time.

What are the next indicators to watch?

Convoy interdictions – further fuel or food blockades around Kayes and the Senegal corridor would confirm a strategy to grind Bamako.

Parks belt violence – more attacks around the W-Arly-Pendjari complex would raise the risk of spillover deeper into Nigeria, Togo and Ghana.

Drones and sat-com seizures – credible reporting of kit captured from JNIM units would indicatee improved battlefield communications.

Leadership messaging – communiqués by Iyad or Koufa that reference Nigeria or coastal cities would suggest intent beyond probing.

Bottom line: growth of a regional actor

JNIM has evolved from a Mali-centred insurgency into a regional actor that mixes violence with economic coercion and quasi-governance.

The Nigeria claim is a small action with outsized implications – a reminder that borders mean little to groups that live off them.

In Bamako, the question is less whether JNIM can storm the capital than whether it can squeeze it – by burning fuel, blocking roads and choking confidence. That is a campaign the group is already prosecuting.