In Nigeria bandits go viral on TikTok

TikTok is known globally for various social media challenges, trends and Gen Z humour, but in parts of Nigeria it is becoming a megaphone for armed groups. In the country’s northwest, armed groups, commonly referred to as bandits, are now using TikTok as a digital propaganda tool.

These are not clumsy or amateurish uploads. The videos are well-crafted, often showing  gunmen flaunting high-powered weapons, boasting about their raids on security forces or bragging about ransom payments.

They’re cut with popular music, anti-government slogans, and a disturbingly clear message: join us, and you’ll earn respect, money, and power.

According to investigations done by HumAngle’s Aliyu Dahiru there is a growing online movement that is distorting reality, deepening ethnic divisions, and reshaping perceptions of criminality.

Rebranding crime

The bandits’ TikTok content isn’t just for shock value. It’s strategic. Many of these videos subtly frame the groups as underdogs who are protectors of their ethnic identity, victims of injustice, and heroes resisting a corrupt system. By portraying government forces as inept or biased, they tap into real frustrations within rural communities.

“This isn’t just about terror,” said Abdullahi Abubakar, a journalist who has followed these groups closely. “They’re trying to win hearts and minds, especially among young people.”

It seems to be working. Under several videos, viewers, some appearing to be teenagers, comment in Hausa asking how to join the group. One wrote: “Tell Bello Turji [a notorious bandit leader] I want to join.” Another hailed him as the “President of Nigeria.”

Screenshots of TikTok videos shared by @Rabemagarya’s and @bello_turji_001 that received a high number of views.
Ethnic manipulation and online tribalism

Bandits have also learned to weaponise ethnicity. In their videos, they accuse local vigilante of targeting Fulani communities. This has sparked a dangerous form of digital tribalism, especially on platforms like Facebook, where users respond with calls to defend their “own people.”

One post blamed 99.9% of attacks on Fulani, stoking further division. “We Hausa people need to defend our brethren,” the user wrote, alongside photos of gunmen.

This narrative feed recruitment, helps justify violence, and worsens existing community tensions. It’s not just crime—it’s identity warfare playing out in the digital space.

TikTok’s moderating system

To its credit, TikTok has guidelines banning violent or extremist content. The platform says it removes anything that promotes terrorism, gore, or hate. It also relies heavily on AI to police its content.

But here’s the catch: TikTok doesn’t support Hausa or Fulfulde, two major languages spoken across Nigeria and the Sahel. That’s left a gaping hole in its moderation system.

“Many of these videos don’t show overt violence,” said Silas Jonathan, who leads digital investigations at the Centre for Journalism Innovation and Development (CJID). “They use songs, slogans, and coded messages that fly under the radar.”

In many cases, videos remain online for weeks, sometimes months, before getting flagged. By then, the damage is done. The platform’s algorithm may have already pushed the content to thousands, if not millions, of users.

Screenshot of  TikTok videos with terrorists displaying ransom money
The TikTok disconnect

TikTok has recently started partnering with local NGOs to better understand the cultural dynamics of the content shared. But so far, it hasn’t extended its reach to northern Nigeria in a meaningful way.

“There’s a serious disconnect between the global nature of these platforms and their understanding of local contexts,” Jonathan said. “Until they fix that, bandits will keep using TikTok to build influence.”

The combination of TikTok’s virality, the lack of language support, and Nigeria’s fragile security situation has created a perfect storm. These aren’t just isolated videos, they are part of a broader campaign to reshape narratives, recruit sympathisers, and undermine public trust in the state.

As the lines blur between digital influence and real-world violence, one thing is clear. Bandits now has a new front, and it’s on your screen.