When Islamist insurgents unleashed terror on northern Mozambique, civilians living in the shadow of Africa’s biggest gas project thought troops paid by the French energy giant would protect them. They were wrong. 

One evening in March 2022, just as the sun was setting, two fishermen paddled their canoe out of Palma, a small port town in Mozambique, and into the Indian Ocean.  

Life in Cabo Delgado, a province on the southern African country’s Tanzanian border, had changed rapidly for the young men, Chawado Saul and Sailimo Mende, in the preceding years. First, huge international energy companies had arrived to exploit the gas reserves beneath the ocean, relocating whole villages to make way for a 3,600 hectare compound with barbed wire fortifications and its own airstrip. Many of their old fishing grounds were now a no-go zone.

Then an Islamist insurgency erupted. The province’s two million people lived in fear of raids from guerillas camped in the bush outside their towns and villages. In March 2021, fighters declaring allegiance to the Islamic State terror group stormed Palma itself, massacring more than 800 civilians and beheading corpses. 

The government, 1,900 kilometres to the south in the capital, Maputo, poured troops into the region to quell the rebellion. For Saul and Mende, and many other war-weary residents of Cabo Delgado, the peacekeepers would bring only new danger.  

“He said that he was going to fish, and what we got back was his corpse”

On the morning after the pair sailed out to fish, Saul’s brother, who had fled the insurgency to Tanzania, received a call from their father: he should come home at once for the funeral. 

In the following days, the families began to piece together what had happened. Detainees freed from a crowded police cell told them how, in the early hours, the door had opened and two crumpled figures were hurled in. Both showed signs of being badly beaten. Saul was already unconscious and died soon after. Mende lived a few more hours—just long enough to tell his cellmates his story. 

His mistake, they said, was to paddle close to—but not into—a forbidden zone around where French oil and gas giant TotalEnergies was drilling in what is thought to be Africa’s most expensive energy project, Mozambique LNG, with an aim to export liquefied natural gas across the globe.

Over a three-year period between 2020 and 2023, Total helped fund a military task force of up to 1,000 regular troops and “fusilleros”—elite soldiers modelled on the US marines—to protect its gas infrastructure off Palma and its onshore compound from the insurgents. 

Internal documents from Total and witnesses interviewed by SourceMaterial in Mozambique suggest that those troops were responsible for the fishermen’s deaths—along with a litany of crimes against civilians, including theft, rape and murder.

“He said goodbye to us, he said that he was going to fish, and what we got back was his corpse,” said Mende’s uncle, Maundi Ali, who was summoned by the police to identify the body.

Documents seen by SourceMaterial show that Total was aware of allegations of abuses but continued to fund the task force. Direct payments went on until last year—and Total continues to fund Mozambican armed forces via indirect payments to the government.

A Total spokesman said that it ended direct payments to the military on the advice of an independent human rights report it commissioned. Some 5,000 Mozambican security force personnel have undergone Mozambique LNG’s security and human rights training, the spokesman added.

“Mozambique LNG is implementing a major programme of socio-economic initiatives for the local community to promote local economic development, contribute to the stabilisation of the area, and support local communities,” Total said in a written statement. “This programme followed on from the emergency humanitarian aid that was quickly deployed by Mozambique LNG after the attacks on Palma.”

‘I keep quiet’

The scale of the violence in the Spring of 2021 stunned Total. That April, the company declared force majeure, putting on hold the $20 billion gas project it operates as the biggest shareholder in a seven-investor consortium. As the insurgents, known locally as Al Shabaab, reached the outskirts of Palma, Total evacuated some 2,500 civilians and employees by sea and air.

The rebels overwhelmed Palma in a pincer attack that tore through the city as civilians raced to take shelter in Total’s compound at Afungi, now protected by Joint Task Force soldiers the company was paying to support.

Aided by South African mercenaries, the Mozambican troops—some based inside the compound, others scattered in makeshift concrete forts among nearby villages—soon cleared the rebels from the city, much of it now reduced to a smoking ruin. 

But many soldiers simply picked up where the insurgents had left off, exploiting the chaos to loot already ravaged businesses and homes. In the coming months, with Al Shabaab’s threat reduced to sporadic raids from the surrounding bush, some civilians would discover that it was the government forces who posed the biggest danger. 

In Quitunda, a resettlement village built by oil companies to house locals displaced by the gas project, residents described living in a climate of fear as Total-funded troops harassed, robbed and killed.

“They weren’t here to protect us—they were here to protect Total,” said Saidi Momede, pointing to a broken door he said soldiers had kicked down before stealing savings hidden under a bed. A nearby house remained riddled with bullet holes from an assault in which the army had gunned down an unarmed man who fled as they robbed his home next door, witnesses said. 

The task force soldiers deployed in Cabo Delgado were mostly from southern Mozambique and few spoke the local languages, Makonde, Mwani and Makhuwa. Some appear to have been unable—or unwilling—to distinguish between civilians and insurgents.

Zainabo Saide Kavanga, a 78-year-old woman, fled after Al Shabaab attacked her village and beheaded her brother. When the army arrived, they accused her of colluding with the rebels; they detained and beat her, breaking her leg and hand and twisting her spine, leaving her unable to farm, she said. 

“I keep quiet,” said Kavanga, who like others interviewed for this story did not give her real name for fear of retribution. “There’s nothing I can do to change things.” 

‘Intimidation, extortion, and violence’

By the time Saul and Mende, the two fishermen, were killed in March 2022, Total was aware that some of the troops it was paying were running out of control.

“The community leadership’s biggest concerns were intimidation, extortion, and violence,” according to Total documents from 2021. They reveal that residents “regularly reported” human rights violations including torture, detentions and disappearances at the hands of the task force. “The community thinks that the project is responsible for the military actions as the military are in the region to guarantee the security of project assets.”

The documents, a series of internal reports in 13 files, 423 pages in all, describe Total’s efforts to mitigate the impact of its gas project on communities and the environment. They were shared with SourceMaterial by ReCommon, a campaign group that obtained them through freedom-of-information requests to Cassa Depositi e Prestiti, an Italian state export credit agency that supported Total’s Mozambique investment.

Spanning a period between mid-2020 and late 2022, they describe “regular” and persistent abuses, as well as more than 20 individual human rights violations. They show that Total was aware of serial allegations of violence against Joint Task Force troops, including the killings of Saul and Mende. 

It is not clear which Total employees were responsible for compiling them but some are marked “approved” with sets of  initials—one of which matches the name of one of the consortium’s senior legal advisers, who did not respond to requests for comment. 

Two fishermen “were beaten to death on the 26th of March, by the militaries,” according to a Total report from the first quarter of 2022. 

The men, who appear to have been unaware of new restrictions on night fishing, were seized close to Total’s onshore facilities in an incident that “might have implications for the project”, the report noted.

Initially, Total concluded that “the incident is not related to the JTF”. But the company later revised this view, documents suggest.

“In the following months (July, August and September), questions about the death of 2 fishermen continued,” according to a document from September 2022. Total officials had “followed the issue with the JTF and obtained information that an official investigation is taking place,” the report said. 

A Total spokesman said:

“If abuses were reported, Mozambique LNG had several means of action at its disposal. Mozambique LNG could ask the authorities to carry out additional checks. In addition, Mozambique LNG continued to deploy its training and awareness initiatives in order to prevent such abuses from occurring.”

Total did not respond to SourceMaterial’s questions about specific incidents reported in this story. 

‘Hardship bonus’

As part of its agreement with the government, Total had agreed to pay for food, accommodation and equipment for the JTF. In addition, the company also paid the troops a “hardship” bonus. 

But what may sound like a reward for enduring months in poor accommodation far from home appears in fact to have been a reward for not infringing human rights.

“An individual bonus will be paid, depending on the grades, and upon the condition that: any violation of human rights attributed to elements of the JTF will entail the withdrawal of this bonus,” Total’s agreement with the government stated, according to an independent report commissioned by the company. 

On several occasions, Total’s response to reports of abuses, including the killing of the fishermen, was to suspend payment of this bonus. 

“Saturday the 26th of March, two fishermen from Palma were arrested by a military vessel and were handed over at Quitunda police station. They were both declared dead in the morning: their bodies were sent back to their families,” says the final reference in the documents to the fishermen.  

“As a result, the Project engaged with the JTF Commander, reduced the logistical support of the JTF, suspended the hardship compensation of all JTF members until the investigation into the incident has been closed. At a political level, a letter was sent to the Ministry of Defense.”

The documents, which offer a snapshot of Total’s activities, don’t reveal how the investigation concluded. But they describe similar incidents which show that Total knew soldiers it was funding were simply “rotated out”—transferred to other duties—after committing abuses.  

During a single month, August 2021, 200 task force troops were removed and replaced, including some “who were allegedly involved” in human rights violations, the documents state. The following months, communities noted an improvement, including a decline in “petty extortion”. 

Total’s spokesman said: “Mozambique LNG would like to emphasise that the grievance management system put in place worked effectively and allowed communities to report abuses by security forces to Mozambique LNG, including during the period mentioned.”

Victims told SourceMaterial that soldiers had bragged about carrying out abuses with impunity.

‘Killing our brothers’

Mariamo Machude Nelo ran a small business selling alcoholic drinks from home. 

“There was one man who came to my house,” she said, recalling an incident recorded by Total in early 2022. “When this soldier came drinking, after finishing the alcohol I asked him to pay me 1000 meticais”—about $15. 

The soldier, an officer who commanded the local JTF bastion, refused to pay. “He said no, and as I realised that he was too drunk, I let him go,” Nelo said.

“A few days later, I was coming from the market on my way back home when he approached me. He said ‘you always bother me with your 1,000 meticais, today I will show you’. And started beating me very badly.”

The injuries were so severe that the 32-year-old was hospitalised with chest wounds. 

She reported the incident to the police, and a few days later her assailant appeared at her door to pay the 1,000 meticais. There was no point pursuing the matter, he told her—neither the army or the police would punish him. 

“‘Is this the way you have to behave? Killing us? Killing our brothers?’ I asked him,” Nelo said. “He replied: ‘Yes, and we will finish killing you all’.” 

“We will finish killing you all” 

Since then, she has been too weak to operate her business or tend crops and is struggling to support herself and her sick father.  

“Nothing happened to this soldier at all,” she said. “I pursued this issue in Quitunda, but nothing happened to him.”

The day after she returned home, Total representatives visited her house. 

“They asked ‘how are you? Are you okay?’” she said. “I said ‘yes, I am’. So they went away and never came back. “

Total’s records of the incident state that Nelo was “in a relationship with the officer”, which she denies.

“The officer provided apologies and paid back his debt,” according to the report. “The officer had his hardship compensation suspended and will be removed from the Project.” 

Nelo, whose brother was killed during the insurgent attacks, says soldiers drinking at her stall would mock her.

“One soldier came to my mother and said ‘I was the one who killed your son’,” she said. “They’re not here to protect us. They are here to protect the company and the people inside it.” 

‘Don’t look back or we’ll shoot’

Total’s documents detail sexual assaults committed by government troops, described as “isolated cases of misconduct”. 

Zura Mahamudo, 20, exchanged greetings with three soldiers while taking a shortcut through the bush to Palma while taking cassava to market. On her way home, the same men accosted her and dragged her into the undergrowth. 

“They tore off my skirt,” she told SourceMaterial. “They took my other clothes and they tied them over my eyes so I couldn’t see.”

They repeatedly raped her and stole her money.

“I couldn’t walk so I just lay down in the bush”

“After they had done everything that they wanted, they said ‘go away and don’t look back or we’ll shoot you’,” she said. “I couldn’t walk so I just lay down in the bush.”

She showed her bloodied clothing to the police but the troops weren’t punished, she said. Soon after, she discovered that they had been re-deployed to Quatro Camino, the crossroads that marks the entrance to Total’s Afungi compound, just 5 kilometres from her home. It’s an area she now avoids. 

“I have given up hope that they will face justice,” said Mahamudo, whose case is not cited specifically in Total’s reports. She received no compensation after the attack and has not worked since. 

Last year, following an independent review, Total said Mozambique LNG would establish a foundation to implement a $200 million regional socio-economic development programme.

‘Direct link’

In late 2022, Total commissioned a French diplomat and human rights expert, Jean-Christophe Rufin, to travel to Cabo Delgado and assess the humanitarian situation there. His report, published in May 2023, found that Total’s ties to the Joint Task Force risked making the company “party to the conflict”.

“The existence of an individual financial relationship with JTF soldiers constitutes a direct link between Mozambique LNG and these troops,” he wrote. “It is questionable whether this conditional bonus could have a deterrent effect on possible abuses.” 

Rufin concluded: “Any direct link between the consortium and the Mozambican army should be cut off.” 

Following Rufin’s report, Total kept funding the task force directly for another seven months, until October 2023, when it suspended its agreement with the government and the bonus system. 

Since then, it has continued to fund Mozambican security forces in Cabo Delgado indirectly, according to news reports. Under a new framework based on “voluntary principles on security and human rights”, Total began paying the government about $80,000 a month, resulting in a 75 per cent rise in task force soldiers’ salaries, the website Zitamar News said. 

Total’s spokesman said that the aim of its agreement with the government “was to ensure that the Mozambican security forces tasked with protecting the Afungi site had adequate resources at their disposal and were correctly informed about and trained in human rights issues”.

As Mozambique seeks to recover from the insurgency and Total eyes a return—the company’s chairman said on 2 October that it “remains committed” to the project—the full horrors of the military intervention in Cabo Delgado are still coming to light. 

In September, Politico reported how in mid-2021 civilians fleeing Al Shabaab were promised sanctuary by the military only to be herded into a pair of shipping containers that formed a checkpoint outside the entrance to Total’s evacuated Afungi compound.  

“When we got there, they took off our shirts and they started beating us,” ⁠said Insa Nakalele, a 33-year-old fisherman from Munjani, one of eight survivors interviewed by SourceMaterial. “They beat us until we were broken.”

Omar Miquidade said he watched as one man was gunned down while attempting to escape.

“The corpse was left out for two days and it was eaten by dogs,” he said. 

Some were held in the containers for three months. During this time, they said, prisoners were taken away and never returned. Rashid Omar, a 39-year-old fisherman who spent two months inside the containers, told SourceMaterial that his brother disappeared.

“They asked for five people to go to dig something up,” he said. “My brother went and never came back. The following day, they asked for six people, and they also never came back.” 

Total’s spokesman said that the company had completely evacuated the Afungi site when the incident took place. Total had “no knowledge of the alleged events” and had written to the government to request an investigation, he said.

This week crowds gathered where the containers once stood to protest against Total. 

“We don’t want war but we want our rights,” a placard read. 

Names have been changed to protect sources

Headline picture: Mozambican soldiers in Cabo Delgado, September 2021 (Simon Wohlfahrt, AFP/Getty)