The Commandant, a tall built man in his early thirties with an elaborate black turban on his head, stepped out of his truck and inspected the village in a haughty manner.

“We are looking for more recruits. In exchange, we will let you live in peace under the leadership of the fearless Shekau,” he announced.

The village head who had been fished out of one of the huts and dragged half running before the Commandant had guns pointed to his head by overzealous, half-drugged soldiers.

“If the young men do not surrender, we will execute your Bulama and other villagers one by one till we get volunteers.”

Shortly after that, many of the young men trooped out of their hiding places and gave themselves in, including Mawu.

Now, the new recruits were lined up and handed loaded rifles by one of the commanding officers who proudly wore a badly tailored army uniform with cheap, fading brass buttons. It had stripes on the sleeves and fake looking badges indicating his rank in the Boko Haram army. His head was wrapped in a not-so-clean, multi-coloured turban.

Mawu was sweating profusely from the high temperature and anticipation of the new set of instructions the new recruits would be given. The cocktail of drugs he swallowed the night before was wearing off, his vision blurred every few seconds, making him feel hot and cold at the same time. He had never held a loaded rifle before. It was a strange feeling, cool weighty metal against the hot sweaty flesh of his palms. He didn’t feel the heavy rush of confidence the Boko Haram soldiers displayed holding a gun.

As new recruits, the young men had undergone ‘paramilitary training’ for ten days. They were made to participate in physical combat with each other, shown how to hold and shoot with guns. They ran around the whole village several times at the crack of dawn, forced to do crude obstacle courses all day till they were exhausted and barely able to stand. At night they sat for hours listening to designated officers preach the Boko Haram ideals and values. The crack of the whip intermittently ensured sleep didn’t dare overtake them. The soldiers always swallowed pills regularly which were freely available and offered to the new recruits. Most of them took the pills, not giving any thought to the intended effect or unwanted consequences.

This was the day of their initiation into the Boko Haram fold.

“Today soldiers, you become part of us fully,” the commanding officer announced. His words were accompanied by a high sense of accomplishment and pride.

He continued pacing in the sun, seemingly unaffected by its punishing heat.