Nigeria is bleeding.
From the crimson-soaked soil of Benue to the ashes of destroyed homes in Plateau, Zamfara, and Southern Kaduna, the cries of mothers who’ve lost their children, the anguish of fathers who can no longer protect their homes, and the hollow silence of mass graves echo a single truth: we are under siege.
Yet, amid this carnage, our leaders continue to carry on as if all is well. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, the Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, the one constitutionally mandated to guarantee the security of life and property, has remained disturbingly aloof—issuing press statements through aides while real blood flows in our villages.
This is no longer just about politics. This is about human lives. About the soul of a nation slipping away under a cloud of silence and incompetence.
Where Is the Leadership?
It is a gross betrayal of leadership when Nigerians are slaughtered in their hundreds and the President does not show up at the frontlines—physically or decisively. The attacks in Benue are not isolated incidents; they are part of a disturbing pattern that reveals a state that has abandoned its people to the rule of outlaws.
President Tinubu’s administration has shown more energy defending the naira than defending Nigerian lives. The optics are devastating: while families bury loved ones, our leaders jostle for 2027. While communities are razed, they commission bridges to nowhere. While women are raped and displaced, they speak at elite luncheons and fly out for global summits.
We are watching a country sink while its captains debate who gets the bigger cabin.
International Silence Will Not Save Us
With the world at the edge of a third world war, driven by tensions between Israel and Iran and the West's growing military fatigue, Nigeria is no longer a priority. Our humanitarian crisis does not make global headlines anymore. And why should it? Our leaders themselves act like everything is fine.
Turning Nigeria into a war zone of its own, through negligence and misgovernance, is not only irresponsible—it is suicidal. In a world teetering on global conflict, who will come to save us when we have refused to save ourselves?
Let us be honest: if the international community decides to look away, it is because our government has done the same. When your leaders do not care about you, neither will the world.
Nigerians Must Rise—But Not with Violence
To every Nigerian who feels the weight of despair, let it be known: we are not powerless. But we must resist the temptation of violence. You cannot cure fire with fire. We must channel our rage into strategic, peaceful resistance. Into activism, into journalism, into protests that tell the truth with clarity, dignity, and purpose.
We must flood the digital space with stories, with facts, with images that show what is really happening in Benue, Zamfara, Plateau, and the rest of Nigeria. Let the world know that behind our silence is not apathy, but grief. And behind that grief is a fire that will not go out until justice is done.
But this fire must be righteous—not destructive.
A National Campaign of Truth
Let us start a campaign—not of hashtags alone—but of truth-telling, backed by videos, names, dates, and testimonies. Let every displaced person’s story be heard. Let the world see the pictures our leaders ignore. Let embassies in Nigeria receive weekly dossiers on what is happening. Let press conferences be held not just in Abuja, but in London, New York, and Geneva.
We must push for a global spotlight. Not to beg—but to expose.
If the Nigerian government will not protect its citizens, then let the citizens protect the truth—and let that truth haunt every politician who turns their face away from our collective suffering.
President Tinubu: History Is Watching
President Tinubu must understand this: he will not be remembered for what he promised—but for what he allowed. If he continues on this path of indifference and cosmetic condemnation, then he will go down not as a statesman, but as a bystander in one of Nigeria’s darkest hours.
The blood in Benue is on the ground, but the stain is on the hands of those who have refused to act.
This is not a partisan statement. This is not opposition politics. This is a moral line drawn in blood. And it must not be crossed again.
Nigeria must choose: silence or survival. Inaction or insurrection of truth. Cowardice or courage.
May we choose well—because time is running out.
