By Ebuka Ukoh
I felt it deep in my stomach – not hunger, not anxiety, but disgust. Disgust for a leadership so disconnected from the grief of its people that it thought a presidential visit to Benue State should be welcomed with a public holiday, pomp, and protocol.
This is what we’ve become: A nation where the killing of hundreds doesn’t warrant a National Day of Mourning, but the visit of one man triggers a day off and a memo demanding a rousing welcome. It would be laughable if it weren’t tragic.
For months now, communities across Benue State have been under siege. From Ukum to Yelewata, the death toll continues to rise. Farmers slain. Families wiped out. Children orphaned. Yet it took the President this long to schedule a visit. And when he finally comes, we choreograph celebrations instead of protests.
What message does that send to the grieving? That their pain is secondary to political appearances? That life has no value unless a camera is rolling?
Benue State leadership has proven to be complicit, cowardly, and completely caught in survival politics. Declaring a public holiday for the President’s visit was not just tone-deaf—it was a distraction. A way to shift the conversation from loss to logistics. From sorrow to spectacle.
We must call this what it is: Performative politics. And it is not unique to Benue. Across Nigeria, sycophancy has become the norm. Public relations matter more than public safety. Image is elevated over impact. That is why we can be discussing who is endorsed for 2027 while the blood of our citizens still stains the soil.
But we cannot afford to stay sad. We must move to “mad”. Angry enough to say no to choreographed greetings and yes to coordinated resistance. Angry enough to stop clapping for leaders who have failed us. Angry enough to demand more.
Let me be clearer: this is not about party lines. It is about a pattern. A culture where leaders prioritise survival over service, optics over obligation. When people are dying and the response is a celebration, we have crossed a moral line.
Our political system is drunk on praise. And too many citizens have become co-performers in this tragic play. But we can change the script.
We can:
- Refuse to participate in praise-singing when our communities are in mourning.
- Demand accountability from both federal and state governments.
- Mobilise locally to ensure that the dead are not forgotten and the living are not forsaken.
- Say “no” to transactional politics and “yes” to transformational leadership.
Yelewata is not just a place. It is a mirror. A mirror showing us the cost of indifference, the consequence of misplaced priorities.
As Nigerians, we must reclaim our voice. We must remember that silence in the face of injustice is complicity. And that every time we dance when we should be demanding, we become part of the problem.
Let this be our moral reckoning: leadership without empathy is dangerous. Governance without justice is hollow. And people who clap while crying are not free.
Let us mourn. But let us also move. From sadness to sacred rage. From helplessness to hope.
Nigeria deserves better. Benue State deserves better. And until we get it, no one deserves our applause.
Mr Ukoh, an alum of the American University of Nigeria, Yola, and PhD student at Columbia University writes from New York
