Dangerous Words in Dangerous Times: Akpabio’s Reckless Narrative on Terror and Truth
By Matthew Eloyi
At a moment when grief hangs thick over parts of Nigeria, when families bury loved ones lost to bombs, bullets, and blunders, words from those in power should offer clarity, empathy, and responsibility. Instead, what Nigerians heard from Senate President Godswill Akpabio was something far more troubling: a conspiracy-laced dismissal of a national tragedy.
To suggest that the intensifying wave of terrorist attacks is merely a “gang up” designed to distract President Bola Ahmed Tinubu is not just politically convenient; it is morally unsettling. It reduces real suffering to political theatre. It transforms bloodshed into strategy. And worst of all, it risks normalising a narrative where accountability is replaced by deflection.
Across Nigeria’s North-East, North-West, and North-Central regions, terror is not an abstraction. It is a daily reality. It is the farmer who cannot return to his land. The mother who fears sending her child to school. The community that wakes up to silence where neighbours once lived. Groups like Boko Haram and ISWAP are not metaphors in a political chess game; they are violent actors whose actions have devastated lives for over a decade.
Against this backdrop, Akpabio’s remarks feel not only detached, but deeply insensitive.
What does it say to the victims of a deadly airstrike that killed over 100 civilians just days ago? That their deaths are part of a political plot? What comfort does that offer to grieving families? What reassurance does it give to citizens who already feel abandoned by the state’s inability to guarantee their safety?
Leadership demands more than loyalty to an administration; it demands fidelity to truth. And the truth is that Nigeria’s security crisis is complex, long-standing, and worsened by systemic failures that no amount of political spin can erase.
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By framing terrorism as a coordinated attempt to undermine reforms, Akpabio introduces a dangerous line of thinking: that insecurity is less a failure of governance and more an external sabotage. This may serve short-term political messaging, but it comes at a steep cost. It discourages introspection within government. It shifts focus away from urgent reforms in intelligence, military coordination, and civilian protection. It risks creating an environment where criticism is dismissed as conspiracy rather than engaged as necessary feedback.
Equally concerning is the timing of such remarks. Nigeria is currently navigating sensitive security dynamics, including increased international cooperation following recent engagements between the presidency and foreign military partners. At such a delicate juncture, what is required is measured communication, not speculation that could inflame tensions or undermine public confidence.
There is also a broader institutional implication. As Senate President, Akpabio occupies a position that should embody oversight and balance. The legislature is not meant to echo the executive uncritically; it is meant to hold it accountable. When the head of that institution appears more invested in defending the presidency than interrogating national challenges, it weakens the very architecture of democracy.
His comments on the electoral commission chairman further reinforce this pattern: minimising concerns, reframing controversies, and urging acceptance rather than scrutiny. While context is important in any public debate, the instinct to dismiss rather than investigate feeds into a growing perception that those in power are more interested in controlling narratives than confronting realities.
Nigeria does not need narratives that explain away its pain. It needs leadership that acknowledges it, confronts it, and works relentlessly to end it.
The tragedy of Akpabio’s statement is not just in what it says, but in what it reveals: a widening gap between the lived experiences of Nigerians and the rhetoric of those who govern them. In that gap, trust erodes. And without trust, no reform can truly succeed.
In times like these, words matter. They can comfort or they can wound. They can unite or they can divide. They can illuminate truth or obscure it.
Sadly, this time, they have done the latter.