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State Of Emergency Denied: When Blood Flows And Power Looks Away

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A state of emergency, as defined by the Nigerian Constitution, is not a ceremonial flourish; it is a serious measure invoked when the security of lives and property has broken down beyond ordinary remedies. It demands the suspension of politics for the preservation of humanity. In Benue State, that threshold has long been crossed. Villages are no longer communities; they are mass graves. Fields are not for harvest; they are now blood-soaked battlegrounds. And yet, the federal government continues to behave as if nothing has happened. There is no urgency. No outrage. No declaration of emergency.

For years, Benue has suffered what amounts to a gradual ethnic cleansing. The signs have been there: scorched homes, razed villages, displaced communities, and recurring mass burials. And the government, under successive administrations, has watched with unnerving calmness. Reports have been ignored. Cries have been muffled. And interventions, when they come, are symbolic at best.

It took the risk and audacity of a private citizen, VeryDarkMan (VDM), to reawaken the conscience of the nation. He went, unarmed and unaided, into the very heart of the carnage. What he brought back were not just videos, but visual proof of horror: unedited pain, blood-drench testimonies, and communities in ruins. And it was only then that the federal government reluctantly started to “grant interviews,” suddenly acknowledging a tragedy they had long pretended did not exist. But by then, hundreds had already died. Thousands displaced. Families shattered.

What makes this abandonment worse is that key players in presidency, who hail from Benue, have chosen muteness over moral duty. Senator George Akume, Secretary to the Government of the Federation (SGF), is a proud son of Benue. Yet, in the face of genocide, he offers not a word, not a visible intervention. Hyacinth Alia, once a priest, governorrnor, has exchanged the pulpit of truth for the politics of appeasement. The Minister of Water Resources, Joseph Utsev, another Benue son, remains unseen and unheard in the face of these atrocities. What is the use of power if it cannot defend the people?

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The president himself, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, has not deemed it fit to declare a state of emergency in Benue, despite years of unrelenting terror, massacres, and mass displacement. Yet, he did not hesitate to intervene forcefully in Rivers State, where no lives were lost but political loyalties were threatened. What is the message here? That oil matters more than blood? The Niger Delta’s politics is more urgent than Benue’s survival?

Benue is not a theater of protest; it is a valley of dry bones. The killings are not spontaneous; they are strategic, persistent, and targeted. And yet, the President advises “negotiation” with those who do not want peace but conquest. How do you negotiate with invaders who carry AK-47s and claim ancestral rights to the land they are burning?

The truth is, there has never been true federal resolve to protect Benue. Temporary military presence only pauses the killing; it does not stop it. After the cameras leave, the terror returns. And every time the government delays, every time the presidency hesitates, more lives are lost. Declaring a state of emergency would have meant a recognition that the regular channels had failed. It would mean mobilizing national focus, suspending partisan distractions, and taking decisive security and humanitarian actions. But none of this has happened.

ALSO READ: Blood On The Keyboard

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Instead, the government continues to hide behind statements. Senior appointees act as though their place in the corridors of power is more valuable than the lives buried back home. The SGF does not weep with his people. The minister remains aloof. The governor offers diplomacy where he should demand justice. And the President governs with selective urgency.

A state of emergency in Benue is long overdue. If it is not declared now, when will it be? When the entire state becomes a memory? When every farmer is a corpse and every child is an orphan?

Let it be known: Benue is not begging for pity. It is demanding protection. And if those in power continue to value politics over people, then history will remember them not as leaders, but as accomplices by silence.

Let the killings stop. Let justice speak louder than calculation. Let Benue be heard, helped, and healed, before it is too late.

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By Sir Divramredje, Lawrence Efeturi. KSJI.
(Public affairs commentator)

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