Russia’s quiet offensive: How Nigeria became the new frontline of digital influence in Africa
When the French government’s Viginum agency, in collaboration with the UK Foreign, Commonwealth & Development Office and the EU External Action Service, released a report in 2024 tracing Russian disinformation networks across Africa, one revelation stood out: Nigeria had quietly become a key theatre in Moscow’s expanding soft power campaign.
The report identified the African Initiative press agency as a central actor, noting its growing digital footprint in Nigeria and its role in coordinating narratives designed to reshape public sentiment toward Russia and away from the West.
For observers of African geopolitics, this was no surprise. Russia’s influence operations on the continent have long relied on a simple formula: exploit anti-colonial anger, undermine Western credibility, and present Moscow as the true ally of African sovereignty. Until recently, the strategy was concentrated in Francophone West Africa — Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso — where Russian propaganda painted Western counterterrorism failures as evidence of neo-colonial betrayal.
One case stands out: after the 2017 ambush of U.S. soldiers in Tongo Tongo, Niger, Kremlin-linked outlets amplified the idea that the American military presence had invited extremist violence. The message resonated deeply in societies where colonial scars remain fresh, and by 2019, anti-French sentiment had swelled enough for President Emmanuel Macron to summon African leaders to Paris, chastising them for failing to confront the backlash.
But the contagion has since spread southward.
Nigeria: The cultural and demographic prize
Nigeria shares porous northern borders with Niger and by extension, its discontent. The Hausa, who constitute 55 percent of Niger’s population, are also the dominant northern ethnic group in Nigeria. Their familial and religious ties transcend the Sahel’s borders. When Russian propaganda found fertile ground in Niger, it was inevitable that its echoes would reverberate in Nigeria’s north.
This resonance became visible in August 2024, when protesters in Kano, Nigeria’s largest northern city, waved Russian flags during the #EndBadGovernance demonstrations. To many of them, the symbol was not an endorsement of Moscow’s authoritarianism, but a yearning for what they perceived as Russia’s decisive hand in stabilizing Niger, Mali, and Burkina Faso — nations that had expelled Western troops in favour of Russian cooperation.
With 237 million people and counting, Nigeria represents not only Africa’s largest population but also its biggest market for information warfare. It is the cultural nerve centre of the continent — home to Nollywood and Afrobeats, two industries worth a combined $7.2 billion and employing over five million people. Nigerian films and music don’t just dominate Africa; they shape global perceptions of Black identity from Johannesburg to Kingston. Whoever controls the narratives circulating through Nigeria’s digital and cultural pipelines wields enormous soft power over the continent.
Digital highways, disinformation byways
By early 2025, nearly half of Nigerians were online, with TikTok and WhatsApp serving as the primary vectors for political discourse. Additionally, 70 percent of Nigerians are under the age of 25, many of whom consume and share content at staggering rates, often with little fact-checking infrastructure in place.
Enter Russia:
In July 2024, African Initiative opened its Lagos bureau, pushing content via the Afree app that lauded military coups in the Sahel and castigated ECOWAS as a Western puppet. On Telegram and X (formerly Twitter), Russian-backed influencers reframed Western aid as cultural imperialism, linking it to debates over LGBTQIA+ rights and “moral decay.” These narratives tap into long-standing cultural conservatism and skepticism toward Western liberalism.
The results have been measurable and costly.
Manipulated posts tied to pro-Russian sources boosted engagement around major cultural festivals by 40 percent, redirecting audiences toward memes glorifying juntas and denigrating democracy. This digital noise undermines Nollywood’s authenticity — its central appeal — and dilutes Nigeria’s global storytelling power.
Economically, the fallout is steep. Disinformation and piracy have cost Nigeria’s creative industries an estimated $1.5 billion annually, with Afrobeats streams plummeting amid bot-driven boycotts of artists deemed “Western-aligned.” As the creative sector accounts for five percent of GDP and employs one-fifth of urban youth, such disruption isn’t merely cultural sabotage — it’s economic warfare.
The AI mirage: When reality becomes a deepfake
Nigeria’s digital vulnerability is compounded by an AI literacy gap. A 2025 Meta-commissioned study found that 75 percent of Nigerians under 30 failed to identify deepfake videos, particularly those in Hausa that purported to show ECOWAS “betraying” Sahelian allies.
Local fact-checkers like Dubawa now deploy AI verification tools that catch 60 percent of manipulated media in real time, but their reach remains urban and limited — covering only 15 percent of rural internet users. That leaves over 120 million Nigerians exposed to algorithmically tailored disinformation.
The implications stretch beyond perception. As Moscow-linked networks infiltrate apps like Afree, cybersecurity risks multiply. In 2025, Interpol reported that 17.5 percent of Nigerian users were hit by phishing attacks, many tied to data-harvesting schemes mapping opposition movements. Fibre-optic breaches have risen 45 percent year-on-year, and 70 percent of banks remain without AI-based ransomware defences. Deloitte’s 2025 cybersecurity forecast warned that such vulnerabilities could invite state-backed hacks capable of crippling Nigeria’s power grid.
The Sahel’s shadow: A geopolitical domino
The pattern is already visible in the Sahel and Libya, where Russian interference — via Wagner remnants and bot farms — justified coups and fractured Western alliances. In Libya, Moscow’s redeployment of Syrian jets in 2025 helped consolidate General Haftar’s hold over the east, undermining UN unity and cementing Russia’s military footprint.
For Nigeria, the danger lies in contagion. Pro-Russian sentiment in border states has doubled since 2024, and October 2025 coup rumors involving northern officers — though denied by the government — hinted at a worrying shift. Had such a coup succeeded on Nigeria’s Independence Day, it might have realigned Africa’s largest democracy toward Moscow and shattered what remains of ECOWAS’s fragile unity.
The coming storm
Russia’s playbook is consistent: use disinformation to delegitimize Western partnerships, champion “sovereignty” through authoritarian models, and exploit the disillusionment of African youth. The August 2024 protests, which left 24 dead and led to treason charges for 76 demonstrators, were not just about fuel prices or corruption, they were about narratives. Competing visions of what it means to be free, independent, and African.
By 2027, as Nigeria heads toward its next election, those narratives may define its geopolitical soul. A generation raised on Telegram channels and TikTok edits may see in the Sahel’s juntas not a warning — but a blueprint.
If that happens, it won’t be because Moscow conquered Nigeria. It will be because Nigeria, unguarded in its digital sovereignty, allowed its voice, its culture, its youth, its truth to be rewritten by someone else.
