The Namnai River has become a graveyard. Where an old bridge once carried farmers, traders, and travellers across with ease, fragile boats now wobble under desperate crowds. Each crossing is a risk, and for three members of Badaru Badawi’s family, that risk ended in death.
That evening on July 25, Bara’atu Bala, Yusuf Badawi, a heavily pregnant Aisha Rilwanu, two other relatives of theirs, alongside other travellers, paid ₦500 each to board a locally made boat at the Namnai river bank in Gassol Local Government Area, Taraba State, in northeastern Nigeria.
Midway across, the boat capsized. Some passengers struggled to get ashore, but Bara’atu, Yusuf, and Aisha never made it. They drowned in the river.
For Badaru, the grief is unrelenting. All three were close to him: Yusuf, his son; Bara’atu, his elder sister; and Aisha, his sister-in-law.
His wife and mother survived the accident by swimming to safety. But his family’s search for the missing three lasted all night, combing the waters by canoe. By dawn, they recovered only Bara’atu’s body. To this day, Yusuf and Aisha remain unaccounted for.
“Even if they were destined to die that day, it shouldn’t have been through such a means,” he told HumAngle.
Their loss is part of a wider tragedy that began a year earlier, when the Namnai bridge collapsed after torrential flooding. Since then, the community has been forced to rely on makeshift ferries, canoes, and fragile boats. Accidents have become routine, claiming lives and wrecking livelihoods.
HumAngle learnt that these crossings have led to recurring mishaps, claiming lives and destroying property valued in the hundreds of thousands of naira.
“Most of the mishaps were due to overcrowding in the boats. Apart from the properties that were lost, people also lost their lives,” Ibrahim Isa, a boat operator in the community, said.
A vital link broken
Until August 2024, the Namnai bridge was a major transit route connecting Taraba to other parts of the North East, North Central, and the country’s South. Farmers used it to reach their fields, traders to sell their goods, and commuters to travel for work and family. Its sudden collapse severed all of that.
“We have a waterfall around the area, which usually empties itself into the river. I think the water flow was so intense that day, and coupled with the flood, the river could not contain it, so the bridge broke,” Ibrahim recounted. “When the bridge broke, livelihood came to a standstill because people could no longer access their farms or the market for days.”
In the days that followed, residents were stranded. Those with canoes on the River Benue quickly brought them to Namnai, offering a temporary solution. But demand soon overwhelmed supply. With only two motorboats and a handful of canoes available, passengers waited anxiously, scrambled for places, or boarded the overcrowded ones.
Ibrahim had started working as a boat operator since the collapse of the bridge, drawing on his experience in rowing. “We started using the canoes to help people and their belongings cross to the other side before one member from the house of representatives representing our constituents brought a boat, and a week later, a senator deployed another boat to the riverbank,” he said.
“Boats and canoes were never designed to carry large crowds or heavy loads, but people were desperate to access farm lands, markets, and places of work,” Ibrahim noted.
He further explained that as the mishaps reoccurred, people started abandoning their farms due to fear. Traders could no longer cross to the other side to buy and sell, and the flow of goods into Namnai slowed.
“The situation impacted the community and its environs negatively, especially traders and farmers,” Ibrahim emphasised, adding that the prices of food items in the community have gone up since then.
Unfulfilled promises
In November 2024, after the floodwaters receded, Agbu Kefas, the Taraba State governor, visited the site to assess the damage.
“He assured us that they were going to fix the bridge. He even promised to expand the bridge, saying that money would be approved soon,” Ibrahim said.
But nearly a year later, nothing has changed. Commuters continue to take the risk through fragile canoes and small boats to reach their destination.
For others, it is an opportunity to make money, as commercial boat operators have deployed locally-made ferries that carry both vehicles and passengers at the riverbank.
“They charge between ₦3,000 and ₦4,000 per car, depending on its size, and ₦500 per passenger,” Ibrahim said. This means anyone crossing with a vehicle pays a total of ₦6,000 to ₦8,000 for a round trip.
As one of the boat operators, he said they sometimes take pity on residents who cannot afford the full fare, accepting as little as ₦300 or even ₦200.
In April 2025, Uba Maigari, Minister of State for Regional Development, announced that the federal government had listed the Namnai bridge among eleven slated for repair in the North East, assuring that “in a week” the bridge will be fixed.
Residents’ hopes were briefly reignited, but work has yet to begin.
Meanwhile, each rainy season makes crossings deadlier. Cars ferried across, sometimes sinking into the swollen waters.
‘We are waiting’
On Aug. 18, tragedy struck again. A commercial bus operated by the Adamawa Express transport agency plunged into the Namnai River while attempting to cross the collapsed bridge. Several lives and properties were lost, reinforcing fears that the broken crossing remains a constant danger.
For Badaru, whose family is still grieving, the government’s inaction is unbearable. “I don’t think I have to call on the government. They swore an oath after assuming office to cater to the people, so I’m sure they know their duties to the people. I don’t think we have to beg them when it comes to matters like this,” he said, sounding frustrated.
Ibrahim, too, is losing faith. “People from [nearby] Ardo Karla used to farm in Namnai, but since the bridge broke, some people abandoned their farms. I know someone who vowed never to set foot on his farm since the bridge broke because of the tussle of going back and forth on water that is unsafe,” Ibrahim said, adding that the community recently learnt that the Federal Executive Council has approved the repair of the bridge.
“We are still waiting for it to commence,” he said.
As residents wait for bulldozers and builders, Badaru continues to search for the bodies of his son and sister-in-law. He admits, however, that he may one day have to surrender to fate.