Benue Is Bleeding, And All We Got Was a Blame-Shifting Statement
By Matthew Eloyi
By any standard of human decency, the presidency’s statement on the Benue massacre, released nearly 48 hours after over 100 Nigerians were slaughtered in Yelwata, is as disappointing as it is disheartening. What should have been a moment of sober leadership and firm accountability has instead become a masterclass in deflection, delay, and political buck-passing.
Let’s be clear: this was not just another “reprisal attack” as the statement casually frames it. This was a massacre. A premeditated attack on civilians, mostly women, children, and the elderly, while they slept. Labeling it a “reprisal” not only downplays the horror but also subtly attempts to justify it. No act of mass murder deserves the soft cushion of euphemism.
And yet, the statement reads like a bureaucratic afterthought. “President Tinubu has directed security chiefs to implement _earlier directives”_ —the same ones that evidently failed to prevent this tragedy. If the earlier directive was sufficient, why are we mourning scores of dead citizens again? Is this how low we’ve set the bar for presidential leadership—recycling stale instructions after carnage strikes?
Worse still, the statement shifts a heavy portion of responsibility onto the shoulders of Governor Hyacinth Alia, who is being tasked with initiating “reconciliation meetings and dialogue among the warring parties.” With all due respect, how do you reconcile with people who mow down civilians with automatic weapons in the dead of night? Dialogue presumes the existence of two equal parties in dispute. What happened in Yelwata was not a dispute—it was a massacre.
And the president’s call for “political and community leaders” to avoid “inflammatory utterances” is rich with irony. Where was this call when the same communities were screaming for help, protesting in Makurdi, and being dispersed with tear gas for demanding justice? Since when did crying out in the face of horror become “inflammatory”?
Even more troubling is what’s missing: no visit, no national broadcast, no declared day of mourning, and no empathy for the grieving families beyond a sterile phrase like “very depressing.” Is that how a nation mourns its citizens? Is that how a president leads through crisis?
This is not about politics. This is about human lives—Nigerian lives. And every Nigerian deserves a president who does more than issue tepid statements and recycled orders after the damage is done.
Benue is not a battlefield; it is part of the Nigerian federation. Its people are not casualties of war; they are citizens deserving of dignity, protection, and justice. A real presidential response would have included concrete steps: immediate arrests, swift deployment of federal relief, visits to the affected communities, and an uncompromising stance against the culture of impunity.
Instead, what we got was a shrug disguised as a press release.
Mr. President, your silence was painful. Your eventual statement has added insult to injury. If this is the federal government’s idea of decisive leadership, then the people of Benue, and indeed the entire nation, have been left to their fate.
Enough is enough, indeed. But that must begin with leadership that treats bloodshed as a national crisis, not as a political inconvenience.
