31/03/2026
A mother sat on the bare ground in Jos, holding the lifeless body of her son…
not just a body, but her child… her hope… her answered prayers.
His head rested on her arms the same way it once did when he was a baby but this time, there was no cry, no movement, no breath…
only silence. A silence louder than gunshots.
What goes through a mother’s mind in that moment?
What words can explain it?
The dreams she carried for him… gone.
The laughter that once filled her home… gone.
The future she prayed for… cut short in seconds.
Her tears were not just tears they were questions without answers.
They were cries that heaven itself must struggle to contain.
The agony… unbearable.
The pain… unexplainable.
The kind that doesn’t fade, doesn’t heal, doesn’t forget.
And we ask again, when will these killings end?
When will we, as a people, find the courage to say: enough is enough?
Because silence is not safety.
Ignoring it does not protect you.
If we keep looking away…
if we keep pretending…
one day just one day it may knock on your own door.
And on that day, it won’t be a headline anymore.
It will be your brother.
Your sister.
Your child.
Saying, “Thank God it’s not my region,”
is a dangerous comfort.
Because when it finally comes closer it doesn’t ask for permission.
It doesn’t choose gently.
It may begin with you… or someone you love.
The first duty of any government is clear:
to protect lives and property.
Yet today, too many lives are being lost,
too many families destroyed,
too many futures buried before their time.
President Bola Ahmed Tinubu,
this is not just another tragedy this is a call that cannot be ignored.
Our young men and women are being taken from this world
not by fate…
but by failure.
Failure to protect.
Failure to act.
Failure to value life.
Something must be done.
Not tomorrow. Not later. Now.
Because a nation that cannot protect its people
is a nation watching its own soul slip away.
AND REMEMBER THIS
when the day of karma comes,
nobody should complain.
