The Nation That Bleeds
By Osuolale Oluwatomilayo
This story is written in crimson red ink. The ink is so thick, it cannot be mistaken.
It is a crying country. A bleeding one. One that has been shedding blood since the dawn of time. In 1953, there was the Kano riot with about 46 deaths. From 1960 to 1964, there was the Tiv riot with about 4000 deaths. In 1966, there was the Anti-Igbo pogrom with almost 30,000 deaths. In October, 1967, up to 500 men lost their lives due to a division. The Ugep Massacre in 1975 recorded more than 65 deaths.
Oh, the numbers do not lie. According to the Guardian, Total fatalities in 2024 tied to Islamist militants (Boko Haram + ISWAP) were approximately 3,627, representing 66 % of all violent deaths in Nigeria that year. Africacenter.org said Violent Islamist-related deaths in the Lake Chad Basin region (primarily northeast Nigeria) declined slightly by 4 % from the previous year, but that region remains the third deadliest militant hotspot in Africa.
While this has been going on for decades, the recent massacre in Benue State once again forces the nation to confront a familiar and painful pattern. A systemic failure to protect lives, politically motivated silence, and the weaponization of ethnicity and religion for power retention.
The Benue Massacre: Blood on the Food Basket
Benue State, known as the “Food Basket of the Nation,” has increasingly become a graveyard of innocence. On June 7, 2025, a coordinated attack on several communities in the Gwer East and Agatu local government areas left over 80 people dead, dozens injured, and homes razed to the ground. Survivors recount tales of horror, attackers, suspected to be armed Fulani herdsmen, struck in the dead of night, targeting unarmed civilians in their sleep.
Children were not spared. Pregnant women were butchered. Crops were destroyed. And in the aftermath, as families mourned and buried loved ones, a disturbing silence echoed from the top levels of government.
Ethnicity, Territory, and the Politics of Inaction
The Nigerian state’s failure to decisively intervene in Benue is not an isolated flaw. It is a feature of a politicized security apparatus that has consistently treated violence through the lens of ethnic calculations. The conflict in Benue is deeply tied to the struggle for land between sedentary farmers, predominantly Tiv and Idoma, and nomadic herders, a struggle that has festered under the weight of state neglect.
However, the issue is no longer merely about resource competition. It has evolved into a political powder keg, where silence by leaders is often a strategic calculation to not offend a voting bloc, to not upset fragile alliances, or to simply not act in regions not aligned with the ruling party.
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu’s administration has offered condolences but has yet to launch a thorough, impartial investigation or present a concrete policy shift to address the recurring violence in the Middle Belt. The security agencies, underfunded and overstretched, have remained reactive rather than proactive. And amidst the funerals, Nigerians continue to ask “For how long?”
Nigeria’s National Amnesia
What is even more terrifying than the killings themselves is how quickly we forget. Nigeria moves on fast. Mass burials trend for a day, maybe two. Hashtags are created. Leaders visit victims only when international pressure looms. Statements are made. Promises are broken. And then comes the next attack.
This cycle of violence, mourning, silence, and forgetfulness has created a population numb to bloodshed. The normalization of massacres means many citizens do not expect justice. Impunity is the norm, not the exception.
The Role of the Media and Civil Society
If not for local journalists, civil society organizations, and community leaders, many of these killings would not even make it to the national headlines. The lack of real-time data, state-sponsored denial, and censorship means that the true death toll may be much higher than what is reported.
Activists argue that the government is quick to deploy soldiers for elections but painfully slow when entire communities are wiped out. Is the protection of ballot boxes more important than the lives of Nigerians?
A Call to Political Accountability
Nigeria’s endless cycle of killing is not just a security problem, it is a political crisis. Until politicians stop using ethnicity and religion as tools of division, until the security architecture is restructured and made accountable, and until victims in places like Benue, Plateau, Zamfara, and Southern Kaduna receive justice, not sympathy, this crimson red ink will continue to flow.
We must demand more. Demand policy. Demand arrests. Demand convictions. Demand an end to state backed silence.
For how many more graves will it take before the nation awakens?
Nigeria is bleeding, not because she cannot heal, but because her leaders will not stitch the wounds. The Benue massacre is not an isolated event, it is a continuation of decades of institutional betrayal. From the shadows of the 1953 riots to the bloodied farmlands of 2025, the question remains: When will Nigerian lives begin to matter in Nigerian politics?
Until then, this story, our story, will be written in red.