At dusk, Najibullah Nakaka begins a 20-minute steep climb to Wajen Etisalat, a hilly neighbourhood in Birnin Gwari, Nigeria, where the mobile signal is slightly stronger. Locals gave it the name, which translates to Etisalat’s Place, because it is one of the few spots where you might find internet access, even if only momentarily. The name harks back to Etisalat, the former name of 9mobile, a local telecom operator that once had a stronger presence in the area.
With his phone gripped tightly in one hand and hope in the other, he ascends through rocky paths and bushy outgrowths. He just wants to upload an image of the native caps, wristwatches, or shoes he sells in his small shop on a social media marketplace. It is a ritual that takes him away from his home, often at night, in search of a network signal that may or may not be there.
“I used to wait till midnight, sometimes longer,” Najibullah, a soft-spoken man in his early 30s, recalled. “Even if the signal came, it wasn’t enough to make a call. At best, I could send a text or a voice note. Sometimes, I had to hike for about 41 km to neighbouring areas like Bagoma or Kamuku National Park just to find MTN’s signal — one we believe was coming from Niger State.”
This is not just his story. It’s the lived reality for over 300,000 people in Birnin Gwari, a local government area in Kaduna State, northwestern Nigeria, where full network coverage has remained elusive for over three years.
Najibullah’s sister struggles to communicate with her husband, who is in Europe. She tries to send him pictures of their one-year-old daughter from time to time.

Birnin Gwari used to be a lively transit hub linking Nigeria’s North to the South. Bigger in size than Lagos, with an area of 6,185km², the town bustled with trailers transporting livestock, grains, and people along its highways. Its large grain and livestock markets were among the largest in Kaduna State. But a large forest on its outskirts became a hideout for armed groups, and eventually, the town began to unravel under waves of insecurity.
In 2021, as violence escalated across the region, state governments, starting with Zamfara and Katsina, then later Kaduna, ordered a telecom shutdown aimed at disrupting insurgents’ ability to coordinate attacks. But rather than stopping the violence, the blackout brought untold socio-economic hardship to residents. Locals told HumAngle that the attacks not only continued but worsened, with people not being able to make distress calls during the attacks. With mobile networks down, terrorists began demanding ransoms through handwritten letters.
Although the government lifted the restrictions in late 2021, residents of Birnin Gwari say network coverage has not returned. Local telecom operators like MTN, Airtel, and 9Mobile are absent across the local government. GLO works only sporadically in three out of eleven wards. Residents rely on a mix of low-tech ingenuity and costly alternatives; climbing hills, suspending phones on antennae, or congregating at fuel stations that use satellite internet services like Starlink.
While it is an alternative, Starlink installation and subscription are expensive and cannot be afforded in every home or business. As of June 2025, the hardware costs about ₦626,300, and the monthly subscription is around ₦57,000, figures far beyond reach for most residents.
“Sometimes, it feels we’re back to the Stone Age,” said Mallam Hassan, a resident who sells telecom recharge cards. “When we can’t reach the people we want to communicate with, we have to rely on word of mouth to get our messages delivered. It is that bad.”
The shutdown’s effects are far-reaching. Najibullah’s fashion business suffered. His attempts to apply for a Master’s programme at Bayero University, Kano, failed due to an inability to access the application portal in time. Eventually, he relocated to Zaria, an urban area in Kaduna State, where he now works as a classroom teacher and digital educator.
“It led me to open a foundation that serves as a bridge between students and opportunities that are being shared online,” Najibullah told HumAngle. “They send me their details, and I fill out the forms for them. Teachers and students alike are missing out on digital educational tools that will get them prepared for the future. There is no integration of technology and digital tools in education.”
He added that, “There is no JAMB centre in Birnin Gwari. People have to travel to other neighbouring local governments or Kaduna town to register and sit for JAMB (pre-university) exams.”
Businesses are in decline. Livestock and grain trading have slowed to a crawl. There is no single functioning bank in the town. Union Bank, once the only commercial presence, shut its doors due to both insecurity and the absence of a telecom signal.
“This is why I had to leave, because my work and schooling are virtual,” Najibullah said.
Hassan, who once supplied over ₦5 million worth of recharge cards weekly, now struggles to hit ₦200,000. “People can’t recharge phones without a signal. My friend, who used to sell livestock and grains worth ₦50 million monthly, can barely survive now. [Physical] cash movement is dangerous, and there’s no network for mobile transactions.”
‘Peace has not translated into connectivity’
In January 2025, Kaduna State negotiated a peace pact with some armed groups, reportedly enabling the reopening of markets and the resumption of 24-hour road traffic. The cattle market, which had been dormant for over a decade, is slowly reviving, with more than 50 trucks now departing weekly.
But peace has not translated into connectivity. Telecommunications companies have been reluctant to return. Masts destroyed during the conflict remain unrepaired.

“We have been writing letters and lobbying the influential individuals in our town to lead the conversation about restoring the networks. We have equally written to the telcos to come back, as Birnin Gwari is peaceful now. Up till now, nothing has been done,” Najibullah said.
Gbenga Adebayo, Chairperson of the Association of Licensed Telecom Operators of Nigeria, did not respond to our requests for comment.
However, Frank Eleanya, a telecom analyst, said: “When we think about telecommunications, we need to see it more as a commercial entity than a humanitarian one.”
Eleanya explained that restoring operations in a community like Birnin Gwari, where several pieces of infrastructure have been vandalised, might not be an easy decision for telecom operators, particularly in the face of declining revenues and shrinking profit margins. “One of the things that will determine whether they return immediately is how much they were earning there in the first place. If it wasn’t profitable, they wouldn’t see it as viable. The decision to return depends on commerce — on how much they stand to make,” he added.
Amid financial constraints, many telecom companies have slowed the deployment of new infrastructure. “They are currently focused on optimising existing assets to generate returns for shareholders,” he told HumAngle.
Eleanya also noted that if telecom operators are not convinced that security has been sufficiently addressed in these communities, it will be difficult for them to reinvest, particularly because restarting connectivity and revamping infrastructure is capital-intensive.
Nonetheless, he stated that if the federal or state government is willing to bear the costs, including the right of way and cutting down multiple taxation, telecom operators may be more inclined to consider returning. “But you can’t hold them to ransom and insist they must come back to the community,” he said. “There are significant costs they are factoring in.”
HumAngle reached out to James Kanyip, the Kaduna State Commissioner of Home Affairs and Internal Security, for comment via email and phone call, but he did not respond.
“The people are living in darkness, deprived of communication and opportunities due to this prolonged outage,” said Isah Muhammad Galadima, a lecturer at the Usmanu Danfodiyo University, Sokoto, in an open letter to Nigerian telecom operators. “[They] are in dire need of assistance.”