Across the Sahel and Horn of Africa, a new constellation of security alliances, coup-born juntas and entrenched armed groups is reshaping the risk map for travellers in 2026. Mali has emerged as a vocal champion of this shift, tightening bonds with Burkina Faso and Niger in a hard‑line security bloc while deepening ties with Russia. At the same time, conflict dynamics in Sudan, Somalia and Libya, along with rapidly evolving travel advisories, are turning vast parts of the region into no‑go zones for most foreign visitors. A new wave of warnings from Western governments and international agencies is not only deterring tourism, but also complicating the work of aid organisations, investors and diaspora communities who depend on safe passage.

Mali’s New Security Vision and a Region on Edge

Mali’s military authorities, in power since a series of coups beginning in 2020, now frame the country as the spearhead of a broader Sahelian awakening. In partnership with Burkina Faso and Niger, Bamako has helped build the Alliance of Sahel States, a security and political compact that rejects the influence of traditional Western partners and foregrounds “sovereignty” as its central theme. Leaders present their agenda as a clean break with what they describe as years of failed counterterrorism strategies led by France and supported by the United States.

This shift is not purely rhetorical. Over the past two years, the three governments have expelled French forces, ended multiple defence accords, and turned to Russia for weapons, training and political backing. In late 2025, they formally launched a 5,000‑strong joint force headquartered in Niamey, billed as a united Sahelian military structure to take the fight directly to armed Islamist groups and transnational criminal networks. Malian officials argue that this deeper military integration is already delivering results in the form of destroyed insurgent bases and “liberated” villages.

Yet for travellers, the reality on the ground remains starkly different from the upbeat language of official communiqués. Large swathes of northern and central Mali are effectively off‑limits due to a combination of jihadist factions, self‑defence militias and banditry. Road travel between regions is frequently disrupted by improvised explosive devices and ambushes. Even in major towns, sporadic attacks and abductions mean that foreign visitors move, if at all, under stringent security protocols. The new alliance may be altering the strategic picture, but it has not yet produced the kind of stability that would support a revival of tourism or routine business travel.

Importantly, Mali’s strong advocacy for regional realignment is influencing perceptions of neighbouring states. Where the country once featured in travel brochures for its fabled desert cities and cultural festivals, it now appears primarily in travel advisories as a hub of high‑risk security experimentation, prompting governments to extend or deepen their warnings across the broader Sahelian belt.

Burkina Faso and Sudan: Expanding Frontlines and Shrinking Safe Zones

Burkina Faso, one of Mali’s closest partners, is experiencing its own dramatic security upheaval. The country has endured multiple coups, and vast areas, particularly in the north and east, remain contested between security forces, local militias and insurgent groups. Authorities in Ouagadougou speak of an existential fight to preserve the state, and they increasingly frame criticism from outside powers as attempts to undermine their sovereignty. In this climate, foreign visitors can easily be perceived as potential intelligence assets or political actors, especially in sensitive border regions.

In practice, this atmosphere has contributed to a profound sense of unpredictability. Checkpoints, sudden road closures and shifting frontlines make overland journeys extremely hazardous. Incidents of mass displacement, village massacres and attacks on security installations continue to be reported with distressing regularity. For many governments, that is reason enough to maintain strict “do not travel” advisories, regardless of the Sahel alliance’s assurances that their new strategy is turning the tide.

Sudan presents a different but equally alarming picture. Since the outbreak of full‑scale conflict between rival military factions in 2023, fighting has devastated the capital Khartoum and spread across large parts of the country, including Darfur and the Kordofan region. Ceasefire attempts have repeatedly collapsed, and reports of atrocities, famine conditions and near‑total breakdown of basic services have become common. Embassies that once managed routine consular work are now focused almost exclusively on emergency evacuations, hostage negotiations and humanitarian access.

For travellers, Sudan’s crisis translates into multiple overlapping hazards: airstrikes and artillery fire in urban areas, looting and extortion at checkpoints, and the near absence of reliable medical care and fuel outside a handful of relatively calmer locales. The collapse of formal policing also means that ordinary crime, including robbery and sexual violence, thrives in the shadow of larger armed clashes. Even seasoned regional experts now describe the country as one of the most dangerous places in the world for foreigners to move around independently.

Somalia’s Persistent Threat Environment

In Somalia, the lexicon of risk has remained tragically familiar for years: suicide bombings, complex attacks on hotels, assaults on government buildings and incursions across porous borders. The militant group Al‑Shabaab continues to demonstrate both reach and resilience, targeting political figures, security facilities and public venues frequented by civilians. Major incidents in 2025, including large‑scale bombings in Mogadishu and attacks on hotels in regional cities, underscored that the group retains the capacity to strike heavily guarded sites.

On paper, the security architecture is evolving. The African Union Support and Stabilization Mission in Somalia replaced a previous AU operation in 2025, with a mandate to back Somali forces as they gradually assume responsibility for national security. Thousands of troops from several African countries remain deployed, and Somali authorities regularly announce offensives aimed at dislodging Al‑Shabaab from rural strongholds. In some regions, militants have indeed been pushed back, and key roads have reopened to commercial traffic, at least intermittently.

For foreign travellers, however, the risks remain acute. High‑profile attacks often focus on spaces that would otherwise attract international visitors, including hotels, restaurants and airports. Kidnapping of foreign nationals, though less frequent than at the height of the conflict, is still considered a serious threat in many areas. Overland travel outside heavily secured corridors requires detailed risk assessments, local security partners and real‑time intelligence. Aid workers and journalists, who are often among the few foreigners present, are acutely aware that their movements can quickly become targets.

This persistent threat environment shapes the language of travel advisories, which typically distinguish sharply between narrowly defined “green zones” under intensive security and vast “red zones” where non‑essential travel is strongly discouraged or outright prohibited. The nuanced wording can create confusion for would‑be visitors, but the underlying message is consistent: casual tourism to Somalia remains, in most cases, untenable in 2026.

Libya: Entrenched Fragmentation and Renewed Warnings

Libya’s name has long been synonymous with post‑revolution instability, and as of 2026 it continues to feature among the most restrictive travel advisories in the world. Western governments classify the entire country at the highest risk level, warning their citizens not to travel there under any circumstances. The reasons cited are familiar yet undiminished in severity: ongoing armed conflict, frequent clashes between rival militias, widespread availability of weapons, and a deeply entrenched culture of kidnapping for ransom.

The country’s political map remains fragmented between competing administrations and military coalitions. While frontlines have periodically quieted, the absence of a unified national government and functioning security apparatus means that local armed commanders exercise de facto control over neighbourhoods, checkpoints and detention facilities. Foreigners are particularly vulnerable to arbitrary arrest, extortion and abduction, whether for political leverage or financial gain.

Moreover, unexploded ordnance and landmines continue to litter former battlefields, agricultural lands and even peri‑urban spaces. Travellers unfamiliar with the geography of past fighting risk encountering lethal remnants of earlier conflicts in areas that may otherwise appear calm. Sporadic attacks on energy infrastructure and clashes near key ports inject further volatility into any attempt at overland or coastal travel.

Even in cities that once hosted a modest expatriate presence, such as Tripoli and Benghazi, security conditions are heavily dependent on local power balances that can shift rapidly with little warning. Embassies operate with minimal staff, if at all, and consular assistance inside Libya is often extremely limited or effectively unavailable. The cumulative effect of these factors is a firm international consensus: Libya, for the foreseeable future, is not a viable destination for leisure travel and only a narrowly defined set of critical missions proceed, backed by robust private security and contingency plans.

Travel Advisories: From Warnings to Walls

Behind the headlines about coups, insurgencies and alliances lies a quieter but powerful instrument: the formal travel advisory. Governments issue these notices to inform citizens of risks abroad, updating them in response to conflict, terrorism, health crises and natural disasters. In 2026, the travel advisories for Mali, Burkina Faso, Sudan, Somalia and Libya have hardened into some of the most restrictive anywhere, often categorising entire countries as places where travel should be avoided.

These advisories draw on intelligence reports, diplomatic cables, media coverage and the on‑the‑ground experiences of aid agencies and businesses. They highlight specific threats such as car bombings, cross‑border raids, mass displacement, armed roadblocks and kidnap‑for‑ransom networks. In several of the countries in focus, officials also point to limited capacity to evacuate citizens in emergencies as a key justification for the strictest “do not travel” designations.

For travellers, the effect is not merely psychological. High‑risk advisories can invalidate standard travel insurance, trigger airline schedule changes and prompt tour operators to withdraw services entirely. Corporate travel policies often prohibit staff from entering countries rated at the highest danger level without senior executive approval and specialised security arrangements. Even diaspora communities, many of whom previously returned home for family visits despite moderate‑level warnings, are now reconsidering such trips in light of mounting violence.

At the same time, some regional governments accuse Western states of weaponising travel advisories to delegitimise new political orders or discourage foreign investment. Officials in the Sahel alliance, for instance, argue that their security campaigns are being under‑reported or misrepresented, reinforcing a “single story” of chaos that ignores local support for new military‑led governments. This clash of narratives has become a defining feature of the diplomatic landscape, deepening mistrust even as real security threats remain undeniable.

Why Is This Happening? Underlying Drivers of the Crisis

The dangerous climate facing travellers in these countries is not the result of a single factor, but of intersecting crises that have played out over more than a decade. One major driver is the long‑running struggle between states and armed Islamist groups across the Sahel and Horn of Africa. Organisations pledging loyalty to Al‑Qaida or the so‑called Islamic State have capitalised on porous borders, weak local governance and deep rural poverty to establish footholds in remote regions. They often position themselves as protectors or arbiters in areas where the state is either absent or perceived as predatory.

Climate stress adds another layer. Recurrent droughts, erratic rainfall and land degradation have intensified competition over water and grazing land, fuelling clashes between farming and herding communities. In some cases, these local grievances are then exploited by larger armed networks, turning what might have been manageable disputes into large‑scale conflicts. Displacement on a mass scale further erodes social and economic stability, as millions of people move into camps and informal settlements without adequate services or livelihoods.

Political instability and coups also play a central role. Military takeovers in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, and the violent power struggle in Sudan, have upended international partnerships and stalled or reversed fragile governance reforms. New rulers frequently present themselves as saviours who can finally deliver security where civilians have suffered for years. Yet the militarisation of politics often leads to heavy‑handed tactics, restrictions on civil liberties and crackdowns on perceived opponents. These measures can in turn push some communities closer to insurgent groups or spark fresh cycles of rebellion.

External rivalries compound the problem. Russia’s deepening ties with Sahel juntas, friction between North African states, and shifting priorities among Western powers all feed into a crowded and sometimes contradictory security landscape. In Somalia, competing regional interests shape the composition and conduct of peacekeeping forces. In Libya, foreign backing for rival factions has prolonged the conflict and complicated efforts to form a truly unified state. For travellers, these geopolitical manoeuvres translate into fragmented authorities and blurred lines of responsibility, making it harder to know who controls a given territory and what rules actually apply.

Fear, Perception and the Human Cost of Isolation

As advisories ratchet up, an equally potent force is at work: fear. Graphic images of bombings, reports of mass displacement and social media posts about kidnappings combine to create an overwhelming impression of danger, even in areas that may be relatively calm. For many potential visitors, the nuances between a country’s capital and its remote regions disappear; the entire map becomes a red zone in their imagination.

This perception gap has tangible consequences. Tourism, which once offered livelihoods in parts of Mali, Sudan and Libya, has virtually collapsed. Guides, hotel workers, drivers and artisans who relied on seasonal visitors are now facing long‑term unemployment. Local airlines and hospitality businesses that might have survived during earlier cycles of unrest are struggling under the weight of prolonged closures and high insurance costs. For countries already grappling with food insecurity and ballooning public debts, the loss of tourism revenue is a significant blow.

Humanitarian operations are also affected. Though aid agencies maintain a presence in many conflict‑affected regions, their staff are constrained by the same security calculations that shape travel advisories. Heavily armoured convoys, restrictions on field visits and curfews limit their ability to reach remote communities regularly. The result is a cruel paradox: the more dangerous conditions become, the harder it is to deliver the assistance that might mitigate some of the underlying drivers of instability.

At the individual level, diaspora families are among those hardest hit by the new climate of fear. Many who had hoped to introduce children to their cultural roots or attend family ceremonies are postponing or cancelling trips indefinitely. Some continue to travel despite the advisories, relying on local networks and personal knowledge of the terrain, but they do so with a heightened sense of vulnerability. The emotional cost of that decision, and of prolonged separation from loved ones, is rarely captured in formal security reports, yet it is an integral part of the story.

The Takeaway

The convergence of heightened conflict, assertive military alliances and increasingly severe travel advisories has made large parts of Mali, Sudan, Burkina Faso, Somalia and Libya inhospitable to foreign travellers in 2026. Mali’s drive to reshape regional security architecture and reduce reliance on Western partners has produced a new political vocabulary centred on sovereignty and resistance, but not yet the durable peace that would allow visitors to return in safety. In Sudan and Libya, protracted battles for state power have devastated infrastructure and social cohesion, while in Somalia and Burkina Faso, insurgent violence and weak governance continue to close off roads, towns and entire provinces.

For now, most governments advise their citizens to stay away unless travel is absolutely essential and backed by sophisticated security arrangements. Behind those warnings lies a complex tapestry of local grievances, global rivalries and climate‑driven pressures that cannot be resolved quickly or easily. Until real progress is made on political settlements, accountable governance and inclusive economic development, the map of no‑go zones is likely to expand rather than contract.

For travellers, the message is sobering but clear: curiosity and solidarity, however genuine, cannot substitute for a sober assessment of risk. Responsible travel in an age of escalating insecurity demands close attention to advisories, a willingness to change plans at short notice and a respect for the experiences of those who live with these dangers every day. For the people of Mali, Sudan, Burkina Faso, Somalia and Libya, the hope is that one day soon their homelands will again be known not as cautionary tales in travel bulletins, but as destinations where visitors are welcomed without fear.

FAQ

Q1: Is it safe to travel to Mali for tourism in 2026?
Most foreign governments currently advise against all but essential travel to Mali, citing terrorism, kidnapping and armed conflict. Tourism infrastructure has withered in many regions, and large areas of the country are considered too dangerous for casual visitors.

Q2: Why have travel advisories for the Sahel become so strict?
Advisories have tightened due to escalating attacks by armed groups, recurrent coups, weak state control in rural areas and limited capacity to evacuate foreign nationals in emergencies. These factors together create an environment where even short trips can carry significant risk.

Q3: What is the Alliance of Sahel States and how does it affect travellers?
The Alliance of Sahel States is a security and political bloc formed by Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger to coordinate defence and economic policy outside traditional Western partnerships. While it aims to improve regional security, its creation has not yet translated into conditions that would make travel safer for foreigners.

Q4: Is any part of Sudan currently safe for foreign visitors?
Security conditions in Sudan vary by region, but the overall environment is highly volatile due to ongoing conflict between rival military factions. Most governments advise against travel across much of the country, including the capital, because frontlines and control can shift with little warning.

Q5: Can I visit Somalia if I stay only in the capital, Mogadishu?
Mogadishu remains a high‑risk environment with periodic bombings and armed attacks, including against hotels and government facilities. Some diplomats, aid workers and specialised contractors operate there under strict security, but it is not considered an appropriate destination for ordinary leisure travel.

Q6: Why is Libya still rated “do not travel” after years of conflict?
Libya remains deeply fragmented, with rival authorities, powerful militias, widespread weapons and persistent risks of kidnapping and arbitrary detention. Unexploded ordnance, sporadic fighting and limited consular support mean that even seemingly quiet periods can be deceptive.

Q7: Are there legal or insurance consequences if I ignore a travel advisory?
Travel advisories are not laws, but ignoring them can void or limit travel insurance coverage and may affect your employer’s liability if you are travelling for work. In the event of a crisis, your government may also have reduced capacity or willingness to conduct high‑risk evacuations.

Q8: Do travel advisories unfairly stigmatise these countries?
Many residents and officials argue that advisories can paint an overly negative picture and harm local economies. However, governments issuing the warnings prioritise citizen safety and base their assessments on security data, even though that can contribute to long‑term reputational damage.

Q9: What precautions are essential if travel is unavoidable?
If travel is absolutely necessary, experts recommend detailed security planning, the use of reputable local partners, secure accommodation, avoidance of routine patterns, robust communication tools and constant monitoring of local developments. Even with these measures, risk cannot be eliminated.

Q10: When might it become safer to visit these destinations again?
Improved safety depends on progress in peace negotiations, reductions in armed group activity, stronger state institutions and economic recovery. These are long‑term processes, and while specific regions may stabilise sooner, it is unlikely that broad advisory levels will change quickly without clear and sustained improvements on the ground.