Recent U.S. missile strikes in northwest Nigeria, ordered by President Donald Trump on Christmas Day 2025, were heralded by the administration as a decisive blow against ISIS-linked militants persecuting Christians. Yet, as investigative reporting has revealed, the operation was marred by technical failures, questionable intelligence, and dubious strategic value—exemplifying the pitfalls of America’s overreliance on military intervention in Africa. At least four of the sixteen Tomahawk missiles failed to detonate, landing unexploded in fields and near civilian areas, according to Nigerian officials and imagery reviewed by journalists.
This not only raises concerns about the reliability of U.S. weaponry—estimated at a cost of over $1.5 million per missile—but also underscores the risks to innocent lives in an already volatile region. Witnesses and open-source analysis further contradict Trump’s claims of “perfect strikes,” suggesting mismatched targets and minimal impact on militants.
Far from a success, these strikes appear to have exacerbated tensions, potentially fueling recruitment for groups like the Islamic State-Sahel Province and Lakurawa.
This episode is no anomaly; it fits a pattern of U.S. military adventurism in Africa that traces back to the Barack Obama administration’s disastrous intervention in Libya in 2011. What began as a “humanitarian” mission to protect civilians from Muammar Gaddafi quickly morphed into regime change, with NATO airstrikes paving the way for rebel forces to oust the dictator. President Obama later called it his “worst mistake,” admitting the failure to plan for the aftermath created a power vacuum. The consequences were profound: Libya descended into civil war, becoming a hub for arms smuggling, human trafficking, and jihadist groups. Weapons from Gaddafi’s arsenals flooded the region, arming militants in Mali, Niger, and beyond. Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) and its affiliates, displaced by the chaos, migrated southward into the Sahel, establishing transit routes for fighters, weapons, and ideology.
Nigeria, Africa’s most populous nation, has borne much of this blowback. The instability in the Sahel—exacerbated by Libya’s collapse—created porous borders that militants exploit as highways into northwest Nigeria. Groups like Boko Haram and ISIS affiliates have thrived in this environment, blending with local grievances over poverty, corruption, and resource conflicts. The “need” for U.S. strikes in places like Sokoto State stems directly from this: militants use these routes to stage attacks, recruit, and evade capture. Yet, intervening militarily without addressing root causes only perpetuates the cycle. As one analyst noted, the Libya intervention “displaced AQIM and its allies into Libya, Niger, and possibly Nigeria, threatening wider regional stability.”
Trump’s strikes, aimed at camps near the Niger border, ironically highlight how Obama’s folly set the stage for today’s quagmire, turning a contained North African issue into a transnational threat.
Revisiting my earlier critiques of U.S. interventions in Africa, such as in Somalia and Nigeria, reveals a consistent theme: high costs for non-existent to outright counterproductive results. In Somalia, the U.S. has waged an undeclared decades long war with drone strikes and support for local forces against al-Shabaab, which wouldn’t even exist but for an initial U.S. intervention, costing billions. The FY 2025 budget alone allocated over $200 million for African Union operations there, part of a broader U.S. security assistance exceeding $1.2 billion annually for United Nations peacekeeping in Africa.
Yet, apart from providing demand for U.S. weapons manufacturers and make-work for an overlarge military establishment, these efforts have yielded little: al-Shabaab controls vast territories, and U.S. actions have often created blowback, radicalizing more Somalis and diverting resources from domestic priorities like infrastructure or education. The opportunity costs are staggering—funds spent on endless airstrikes could address poverty that fuels extremism.
Similarly, in Nigeria, U.S. involvement has escalated without resolving underlying issues. The Christmas strikes, costing an estimated $25 million in missiles alone, add to a pattern of interventions that prioritize kinetic action over sustainable solutions.
Critics on platforms like Twitter/X have pointed out the neocolonial undertones, suggesting the strikes serve U.S. interests in oil-rich regions like the Sokoto Basin or establishing bases near the Sahel, rather than genuine counterterrorism. Such operations risk civilian casualties, erode trust in the Nigerian government, and invite escalation. This is increasingly likely as the United States has loosened strike protocols under Trump, increasing the likelihood of errors, as seen in the unexploded ordnance that now poses hazards to farmers and herders.
These failures underscore the futility of America’s militarized approach. Interventions breed resentment, empower adversaries through propaganda, and impose enormous financial burdens—trillions wasted globally since 9/11, with Africa’s share running into the hundreds of billions when factoring in aid, training, and operations.
In Somalia, for instance, U.S. spending has topped $2 billion since 2007, with no tangible results.
As the old saw goes, a billion here, a billion there, and pretty soon you’re talking about real money.
It’s time for a more reasonable, restrained U.S. policy in Africa—one that emphasizes diplomacy over drones and empowers regional actors like the African Union (AU). The AU has shown capability in peacekeeping, as in Somalia’s transition missions, but it needs non-military support such as conflict mediation and institution-building. Rather than unilateral strikes, the United States should facilitate AU-led initiatives, such as bolstering the Sahel’s Alliance of Sahel States (AES) in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger to secure borders and halt weapons flows collaboratively.
Trade agreements, debt relief, and investment in infrastructure could address poverty and governance failures that breed extremism—far cheaper and more effective than endless wars.
Non-interventionist principles demand we recognize that African nations must lead their own security. American meddling, from Libya onward, has often worsened problems, creating dependencies and resentments. As one observer aptly put it, “Name me a single country where U.S. troops have brought back peace recently.”
By stepping back, Washington can avoid the pitfalls of empire-building and focus on mutual interests like commerce.
The Nigeria strikes are a microcosm of America’s flawed Africa strategy: costly, counterproductive, and rooted in past blunders like Libya. A pivot to restraint—prioritizing diplomacy, AU empowerment, and non-military tools—offers a path to true stability. Anything less risks perpetuating chaos, draining U.S. resources, and undermining global standing. The Sahel’s future should be decided by Africans, not dictated from afar.
