How many more lives must be lost before we realize that this war against terror and bloodshed in Nigeria is no longer just a security issue—it is a fight for the soul of our nation?
We sit here time and time again, drenched in grief, watching the news as yet another round of killings is reported from Benue, Nasarawa, Plateau, Borno, Yobe, Zamfara, and other parts of our country. We mourn, we rage, we condemn. Our politicians show up on the screens with carefully crafted soundbites, promising justice, calling for calm, and blaming invisible hands. But behind all the media appearances, one truth remains painfully clear: we are not united in this fight.
The killers are not in hiding. These beasts with no regard for human life now boldly enter towns and villages, slaughtering innocent men, women, and children like chickens and goats. They burn homes, destroy farms, and reduce entire communities to ashes. They don’t flinch because they know the system meant to stop them is broken, tired, and—most tragically—under-resourced.
Our security agencies, no doubt, are trying. Many of them give their lives daily. But let’s ask ourselves: how do you send a soldier without bulletproof vests and helmets to confront criminals armed with modern assault rifles? How do you expect police officers with outdated weapons, poor logistics, and low morale to chase down terrorists with strategic training and superior firepower? It’s a death sentence, and we keep writing it for them over and over.
Mr. President, Nigerians hear your directives, but now we need more than speeches. We need action—visible, effective, and sustained. We need a comprehensive overhaul of our security architecture. We need investment, not just in weapons, but in intelligence, surveillance, welfare, and motivation for the people risking their lives to protect us.
To all state governors and leaders across the country—this is a time to rise above political boundaries. The blood being spilled doesn’t care whether the victim is PDP, APC, LP, or non-partisan. It is time for more than condolences and press releases. You must do more.
Do more to stop these senseless killings.
Do more to protect your people and communities.
Do more to ensure that our children do not grow up as strangers in their ancestral lands.
The future of this country hangs in the balance. We cannot afford to be indifferent. We cannot continue with business as usual while families are being wiped out daily.
So again, we ask: how many more to go?
How many more mothers must weep?
How many more children must be orphaned?
How many more graves must be dug before we say—enough is enough?
Let this be the moment we stop waiting for miracles and start making change happen.
