Pulaku: The two faces of Nigeria’s vigilantes

On a Tuesday afternoon in late September, three Toyota Hilux trucks make their way out of Yola and into the open savanna of northeastern Nigeria.

Inside, about 30 men wear the same olive-green uniforms. Some wear combat boots; others wear rubber shoes. They carry an assortment of weapons: Locally made firearms, machetes, and long wooden sticks more commonly associated with herding cattle.

After about an hour, the convoy reaches an area of scattered trees and sparse woodland. Here, away from the city, the men exit the vehicles and begin drills, moving through the terrain and rehearsing patrol tactics. Several crouch on the reddish, sandy ground, aiming their firearms towards the open area, while others stand and watch.

Among them is Mahmud, who only gave his first name. He is a former cattle herder and farmer in his late 20s. He has closely cropped hair, a faint moustache and a cap pulled over his head. A firearm rests in his hands.

Mahmud is local to Malkohi, Adamawa State, and is one of Pulaku's newer recruits. He has yet to confront kidnappers himself, but speaks confidently about the dangers that may lie ahead.

“We are ready to fight day in, day out,” he says.

For men such as Mahmud, the threat of kidnapping and cattle theft is not an abstract security problem.

Across Adamawa and neighbouring Taraba State, analysts say armed groups have preyed on communities for years, abducting residents for ransom and stealing livestock. The mountains and forests that stretch across parts of the region offer places for kidnappers to hide and make it difficult for security forces to reach them.

The scale of the violence is reflected in figures compiled by SBM Intelligence, a Nigerian research and market intelligence firm. Between July 2025 and June 2026, it recorded 21 kidnapping incidents in Adamawa, involving 77 abducted people, and four incidents in Taraba, involving 14 people.

Cattle theft has also taken a heavy toll. A 2024 study published in the University of Jos Journal of Political Science estimated that 134,182 cattle were stolen in Taraba between 1999 and 2022. Over the same period, researchers reported that more than 113,000 stolen cattle were recovered in Adamawa.

For Fulani pastoralists, whose livelihoods have long been tied to livestock, cattle theft can mean losing far more than animals. At an estimated 700,000 naira ($525) per animal, a herd of 50 cattle could be worth about 35 million naira ($26,254) - a substantial investment for a family whose livelihood depends on its animals.

But Fulani communities face another struggle: The association of their ethnic identity with kidnapping, banditry and farmer-herder violence in parts of Nigeria's media.

A 2021 study published in African Journalism Studies, which examined 598 articles from three Nigerian newspapers, found that reports sometimes used the terms "herdsmen" and "Fulani herdsmen" interchangeably, while employing labels such as "Fulani terrorists" and "killer Fulani herdsmen".

For Alhaji Bello Ardo, a Fulani community leader in Adamawa State, such portrayals contribute to the suspicion faced by people who have no involvement in crime.

"It's painful to see an entire ethnic group being stereotyped. Every ethnic group has individuals involved in crime, but in our case, people make accusations without confirmation," he says.

"If people are robbed, they say it's Fulani without knowing who the perpetrators are."

Ardo points out that Fulani pastoralists are themselves victims of cattle theft and violence.

"We are also not safe. Our cattle are being stolen, and we are also being killed," he said.

"People don't understand that not all Fulani are terrorists."

According to its leaders, Pulaku began taking shape more than a decade ago, as Fulani community members organised to confront cattle theft and kidnapping.

Mahmud is a former cattle herder who recently joined Pulaku [Abdulaziz Ibrahim/Al Jazeera]

Based in Malkohi, Yola South Local Government Area, the organisation was founded by the late Alhaji Abdu Bali; Musa Usman Malkohi, the group's current commander; and other Fulani community leaders as a voluntary response to kidnapping and cattle rustling.

Its name invokes a cultural ideal that has long shaped Fulani identity.

Pulaaku, as the concept is commonly written, encompasses values including dignity, patience, self-control, modesty, courage and respect for others.

Professor Abubakar Abba Tahir, a mass communication scholar who holds the traditional title of Kakaki Fombina, is a spokesperson for the Adamawa Emirate, a traditional Fulani institution in northeastern Nigeria.

He explains that pulaaku is not a fixed code but a living tradition, shaped by the experiences of different Fulani communities.

"Pulaaku is a living cultural concept whose interpretation has always been influenced by community traditions, social circumstances, historical experiences, and individual understanding," he tells Al Jazeera.

The concept can inspire collective responsibility and community protection, Tahir explains, but it also places importance on restraint and respect for human life.

And there is a distinction between pulaaku, the cultural ideal, and Pulaku, the vigilante organisation that has adopted its name, spelling it with a single "a".

"The mere use of pulaaku in an organisation's name does not, by itself, establish that its activities fully reflect the broader cultural ideal," Tahir says.

Whether an organisation upholds those values, he argues, depends on its conduct, accountability and respect for human rights.

Pulaku's leadership says the organisation now has more than 500 members operating across parts of Adamawa and neighbouring Taraba State. Although predominantly Fulani, its ranks also include members of other ethnic groups, including Verre and Chamba.

Unlike the police or military, Pulaku is not part of Nigeria's formal security establishment.

"The group is not on the government payroll," says its grand commander, Musa Usman Malkohi, an older man with a short grey beard and moustache. He refuses to share his age.

He says members contribute their own resources, with additional support from communities and local authorities. Local government chairmen have provided financial assistance towards running costs, while the Adamawa State government has supported the group with vehicles.

On the side of one of the trucks, a message painted in black reads: "Thank you Governor Ahmadu Umaru Fintiri."

It refers to the governor of Adamawa State, who donated the vehicle to Pulaku - a visible sign of the support the volunteer group receives from the state government, despite not being part of Nigeria's formal security forces.

Membership is voluntary, and the organisation's leadership decides which members are permitted to carry firearms.

For the police, one of Pulaku's greatest assets is its members' knowledge of the terrain. Many come from communities familiar with the forests and mountains where kidnappers establish hideouts.

But the story of how this volunteer organisation grew into a force of hundreds begins with a man whose own family was touched by the violence the organisation was formed to confront.