Niger’s defense money: the CFPD, Domol Leydi and a 1.8 billion FCFA question with real consequences

Niger’s defense money: the CFPD, Domol Leydi and a 1.8 billion FCFA question with real consequences

For Nigerien households already squeezed by insecurity and economic pressure, the fight over the Commandement des Forces de Protection et de Développement (CFPD) is not an abstract palace quarrel. It touches the soldiers deployed to protect mines and pipelines, the public treasury that must fund them, and the communities now asked to organise their own defence through the Domol Leydi self-defence groups. The outcome will shape how much money reaches the front line and who decides where it goes.

Behind the security arrangements lies a struggle over people, money and control of the state apparatus. A decree signed. Billions potentially mobilisable. A new defence architecture. Shifting responsibilities. Then another mobilisation mechanism emerges. Taken separately, these events can be presented as routine administrative or military decisions. Taken together, they raise a far more sensitive question: who really controls the men, the resources and the levers of national defence in Niger?

Three major figures are caught in this tangle: General Abdourahamane Tiani, General Salifou Mody and former Prime Minister Lamine Zeine. At the centre of the file are the CFPD and, more recently, the community self-defence organisations known as Domol Leydi. But behind both arrangements sits a third, less visible yet decisive issue: money.

First twist: a decree that changes the equation

On 9 May 2024, decree No. 2024-309/P/CNSP/MDN created the Commandement des Forces de Protection et de Développement. The body is not symbolic. It was designed to help protect mining and oil sites, strategic infrastructure, corridors and several development projects. The Agence Nigérienne de Presse presented the CFPD at the time as an instrument intended notably to secure extractive resources, the WAPCO pipeline, CNPC-NP, SORAZ and strategic corridors. The decree also provides for a particular financial mechanism and that is where the file changes dimension.

A military force does not operate on men and orders alone. It requires equipment, transport, food, logistics, maintenance and, above all, regular funding. The text organises precisely this mechanics.

Second twist: the 12,000 FCFA that opens the door to a 20 billion-plus equation

Article 28 of the decree provides that company contributions are collected on the basis of contracts concluded with the state, and that a Prime Unique d’Astreinte is paid back to the CFPD according to the number of personnel actually deployed. The minimum indicated value is 12,000 FCFA per man per day. The text also details several components of this envelope: daily duty allowance, food, hygiene, operations and maintenance.

Based on an assumption of 5,000 men, the order of magnitude reaches about 60 million FCFA per day, nearly 1.8 billion per month and roughly 21.9 billion over a year. But one clarification is essential: this is a projection calculated from the theoretical headcount and the mechanism set out in the text, not proof that such a sum was actually collected. That is precisely what makes the investigation necessary.

The real question is not only: how much could the arrangement generate? It is far more precise: how much was actually committed? How much was paid? For how many men? For which missions? And to which beneficiaries?

Third twist: the CFPD is a body that genuinely exists

It would be too simple, however, to present the CFPD as an abandoned structure. In 2026, Defence Minister Salifou Mody publicly stated that personnel of the Force de Protection et de Développement were engaged in securing economic installations, notably at posts linked to the pipeline.

The problem is therefore more complex. The CFPD exists. It is officially integrated into the defence architecture. It carries out certain missions. But another question remains: does its real operation correspond entirely to the architecture, headcount and financial mechanism initially planned? This is where administrative and financial documents become essential. Between planned and actually deployed personnel, between theoretically mobilisable sums and amounts effectively paid, there can be a considerable gap. And that gap must be documented.

Fourth twist: who controls the financial chain?

According to information reported in this case, CFPD funding is said to have been at the heart of tensions between different power centres. One particularly sensitive piece of information attributes to President Tiani an instruction aimed at not implementing certain financial provisions of the arrangement. At this stage, no public document consulted allows this instruction to be formally established.

But if confirmed, the scope of the affair would go far beyond a simple administrative difficulty. It would raise a major institutional question: how can a body created by decree function when some of its financial provisions are allegedly deliberately prevented or delayed? The question is all the more important because the decree itself organises the CFPD’s resources and their use.

Fifth twist: the Finance Ministry at the heart of the problem

The supposed conflict then takes on a wider dimension. On one side, Defence seeks to have the means necessary for its missions. On the other, the ministry in charge of finance must control public resources and their use. Above both sits the political authority that arbitrates. It is this articulation that must be examined.

In a highly centralised defence system, controlling resources also means controlling operational capacity. Whoever controls the credits controls part of the means. Whoever controls the headcount controls another part of the power. And whoever arbitrates between the two holds the ultimate lever.

Sixth twist: Zeine loses finance but keeps the premiership

In January 2026, Lamine Zeine lost the Economy and Finance portfolio while retaining the premiership. This change deserves attention. It alters the distribution of levers without necessarily altering the general political balance. The question then becomes: why remove from Zeine direct control of finance while keeping him at the head of government?

According to information reported in this case, General Mody subsequently considered taking the head of government, with the possibility of combining it with Defence. This information is not established by the public documents consulted. But if confirmed, it would reveal a much deeper issue: the concentration in the same hands of the two main levers of state power Defence and the premiership.

Seventh twist: Domol Leydi enters the scene

Then a new stage begins. In late 2025, Niger adopted an ordinance instituting general mobilisation. The authorities present it as a mechanism intended to allow the transition from a state of peace to a state of war and to mobilise the human, material and financial resources necessary for the defence of the homeland. Within this framework appear the community self-defence organisations called Domol Leydi.

The Defence Minister himself explained in April 2026 that these organisations must work under the control and supervision of the Defence and Security Forces. The arrangement therefore officially responds to a security logic. But its appearance raises a strategic question: why multiply mobilisation and protection mechanisms when a specialised command such as the CFPD already exists?

The missions are not identical. The CFPD is a military structure tasked notably with protecting strategic interests. Domol Leydi is more about territorial mobilisation and community self-defence. But both arrangements meet on common ground: people, security, resources and the chain of command.

Eighth twist: the real problem is the boundaries between the arrangements

From there, one question becomes unavoidable: where does the CFPD’s role end and Domol Leydi’s begin? Who recruits? Who trains? Who equips? Who finances? Who gives orders? Who controls the men? And above all, who answers politically and legally when something goes wrong?

These questions are not secondary. The more a state multiplies structures operating in the security field, the more essential the clarity of the chain of command becomes. Sovereignty is not measured only by the number of soldiers mobilised. It is also measured by the state’s ability to know who commands whom, with what means and under what control.

Ninth twist: the mystery of the headcount

This may be one of the keys to the case. The CFPD’s financial mechanism is calculated according to the personnel actually deployed. This means an apparently technical question becomes politically fundamental: how many men were really deployed, and how many actually generated expenditure under the arrangement?

The answer should be found in administrative documents: personnel statements, mission orders, attendance records, security contracts, expenditure commitments, payment orders, execution reports. Without these documents, the billions remain projections. With them, it becomes possible to reconstruct precisely the financial reality of the arrangement.

Tenth twist: who controls the contracts?

The decree provides that company contributions rest on contracts established between these companies and the state. This provision opens another line of investigation. Which companies signed these contracts? What amounts were agreed? What security services were planned? How many personnel were to be assigned to each site?

Were the services actually delivered? Were the corresponding sums paid in full? And above all: which administration ensures control of this financial chain? These answers would determine whether the affair is a simple operational problem or a far more serious dysfunction.

Eleventh twist: when security also becomes a question of power

At this stage, the file ceases to be a simple matter of decree. It touches the very structure of power. The CFPD concentrates men and missions. Companies can contribute to its funding under the planned mechanism. The Defence Ministry supervises the operational dimension. Finance necessarily intervenes in the public resource chain. The premiership constitutes another coordination centre. And the presidency retains supreme political authority.

In other words, several essential levers intersect around a single arrangement. That is precisely what makes any opacity worrying.

Twelfth twist: high treason cannot be treated lightly

The term “high treason” is extremely heavy. It cannot simply be used to describe a political conflict or a bad administrative decision. Nigerien law has historically associated this notion with particularly serious attacks on the fundamental interests of the state. The 2010 Constitution, for example, referred notably to breach of oath, certain grave human rights violations, the fraudulent cession of part of the territory or the compromising of national interests in the management of natural resources.

The current institutional situation must, however, be assessed in light of the Charte de la Refondation, which now constitutes the fundamental text governing public authorities during this period. The journalistic issue is therefore not to declare that “high treason” is already established. The real question is more demanding: if public officials knowingly diverted, paralysed or manipulated a strategic defence arrangement for personal or factional interests, what legal and institutional consequences could follow? That question can only be settled by evidence.

Thirteenth twist: the most sensitive scenario would be the instrumentalisation of defence resources

Here lies the heart of the affair. A state facing a major security threat creates an arrangement to protect its strategic resources. A financial mechanism is planned. Personnel must be mobilised. Companies are called on to contribute.

If, at the same time, personal or institutional rivalries were to determine who receives the means, who controls them or who can prevent their implementation, then the problem would no longer be merely administrative. It would directly touch the governance of national defence. But this hypothesis must still be demonstrated. It requires documents, corroborating testimonies and financial traceability.

Fourteenth twist: figures will speak louder than speeches

The authorities can talk of sovereignty. Military officials can talk of mobilisation. Statements can talk of security. But documents will tell another story that of expenditure actually made. It will therefore be necessary to compare: announced and real headcount; planned and executed missions; theoretical amounts and actual payments; signed contracts and services actually provided; announced structures and their real operation. It is this confrontation that will determine the true scale of the case.

The question that remains

The CFPD-Domol Leydi affair does not, on its own, establish an accusation of high treason. But it raises enough questions to justify an in-depth examination of the chain of command, the headcount, the contracts and above all the financial flows. For when a defence arrangement is associated with potentially considerable resources, the issue cannot be only who commands the men.

It must also be known: who controls the money; who controls the contracts; who verifies the headcount; who controls the services; who can block or release resources; and who is accountable, in the final instance, for their use. That is perhaps the real knot of the affair.

And if documentary evidence were to show that particular interests had effectively prevailed over the interests of national defence, the question would no longer be a simple standoff between officials. It would become a question of state. For in matters of national defence, diverting resources, manipulating structures or deliberately neutralising a strategic arrangement would not be a simple power quarrel: it would potentially be a grave attack on the fundamental interests of the nation.

For now, established facts, source claims and hypotheses must be carefully distinguished. But one thing is certain: the only way to lift the veil on this affair will be to follow the men, the orders, the contracts and above all the money.

By Ramatou Soumana — Reporter

By Ramatou Soumana — Reporter