By Acheli Obidah
Days after a deadly communal clash tore through parts of Lamurde Local Government Area of Adamawa State, the scars of the violence are becoming more visible, etched not only on burnt homes and deserted communities but on the faces of survivors still searching for their missing loved ones.
For many residents who fled in the heat of the violence, the return to relative calm has brought little relief. Instead, it has ushered in a painful reckoning. Families are discovering that relatives have been killed, displaced or taken away during the chaos, leaving survivors trapped in uncertainty and trauma.
In Demsa Local Government Area, several kilometres from the epicentre of the violence, a middle aged man was seen wandering the streets, stopping passersby to ask the same question repeatedly. Have you seen my family?
He identified himself as Mr Alfred Pwanadi, a resident of Wadukku community in Lamurde, one of the settlements affected by the clash. For seven days, he said, he has been moving from one town to another in search of his wife and children, with no success.
“I have been searching for my wife and children for the past seven days now,” Mr Pwanadi told journalists, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “I have not found them, I have not heard from them, and I have not seen any trace of them.”
Mr Pwanadi, who is physically disabled and has no hands, said his community was attacked and set ablaze during the crisis. According to him, houses were burnt and residents forced to flee in different directions as attackers stormed the area.
“I am a resident of Wadukku community that was burnt,” he said. “My house was burnt, including everything I own. My wife and children ran for safety because the attackers were carrying women and children away. From that day till today, I have not set my eyes on my family.”
The loss has been especially devastating for Mr Pwanadi because of his physical condition. He explained that he depends almost entirely on his wife and children for daily care, including feeding, bathing and mobility support.
“I am a disabled person with no hands. I cannot do anything for myself,” he said. “I was preparing for surgery when the incident happened at night, and everything stopped. My wife and children are the ones who feed me and take care of me always.”
His search has taken him across several communities in southern Adamawa, guided only by rumours and fragmented information from other displaced persons. At one point, he was told his family might have been taken to Numan.
“I was told they were in Numan, so I went there and searched, but I could not find them,” he said. “Then I was referred to Demsa. When I came here, it was the same thing.”
Exhausted, hungry and disoriented, Mr Pwanadi said he collapsed near a pavilion in Demsa, where he spent days without food or water.
“As I was walking around the community, I saw a pavilion. I was tired and hungry, so I laid down to sleep,” he said. “I spent seven days there without food or water.”
His survival, he said, was due to chance and the kindness of strangers. After waking up and continuing his search, he noticed a nearby church and went there to ask for help.
“The woman I met cleaning the church called her neighbours, and they came to help me,” he recounted. “They gave me some money to transport myself back to Lamurde and gave me some clothes too.”
Mr Pwanadi’s story reflects a broader humanitarian crisis unfolding quietly in the wake of the Lamurde violence. Beyond the immediate death toll and property destruction, families remain scattered, children separated from parents, and survivors forced to grapple with grief, fear and unanswered questions.
“This incident has caused so much loss to us,” he said. “We are traumatised, pained and disheartened. Waking up to discover that you have lost your family members at once is a pain that will remain with us forever.”
Despite days of searching, hope is fading. Mr Pwanadi admitted that fear now overshadows optimism, as the silence surrounding his family stretches on.
“I am still in search of my family,” he said. “Because of my condition, it is not anyone that can bathe me or feed me except my family. I am hopeless and scared. I feel they have been killed.”
Community leaders and residents say Mr Pwanadi is not alone. Several families affected by the crisis are still unable to account for missing relatives, while others have resigned themselves to the belief that their loved ones were either killed or abducted during the violence.
In his appeal, Mr Pwanadi called on the government, traditional rulers, humanitarian organisations and well meaning Nigerians to intervene urgently.
“I am pleading for help from all areas,” he said. “The government, community leaders, friends and non governmental organisations should come to our aid. I am not the only person in this condition. Many people do not know the whereabouts of their families, and some have already concluded that their loved ones were killed or taken away during the fight. We need help and support at this time.”
As Adamawa authorities work to restore calm and investigate the causes of the Lamurde clash, survivors like Mr Pwanadi are left navigating a more personal battle. For them, the crisis did not end when the fighting stopped. It continues in the long, painful search for family, closure and a sense of safety that remains painfully out of reach.
