By The North Journals Editorial Board
“Every person has a right to life, and no one shall be deprived intentionally of his life.” The persistent inability of security agencies to preempt or respond effectively to these attacks is a blatant violation of this provision. It constitutes, at best, criminal negligence—and at worst, institutional complicity.
In the rolling fields of Benue State, Nigeria’s acclaimed food basket, the soil no longer only yields cassava and yams. It now bleeds. The latest wave of violence in Agatu and several other local government areas is not just a crisis—it is a haunting indictment of the Nigerian state’s failure to protect its most fundamental obligation: the sanctity of human life.
A Recurring Nightmare
Over the past decade, Agatu Local Government Area has become the symbol of cyclical bloodletting. According to a 2023 report by SBM Intelligence, Benue State recorded over 2,400 fatalities between 2015 and 2022 resulting from farmer-herder conflicts, communal clashes, and reprisal killings. The Agatu massacre of February 2016, in which an estimated 500 villagers were killed and over 7,000 displaced, remains etched into national memory—yet little has been done to ensure such horrors are not repeated.
In recent weeks, violence has surged again. Between April and early June 2025, coordinated attacks in Agatu, Guma, and Ukum LGAs reportedly left over 120 people dead, with dozens more injured, homes razed, and entire communities displaced. Civil society organizations, such as the Benue Humanitarian Watch, estimate that over 18,000 people have been newly displaced in this latest escalation.
This is not mere unrest. It is a systemic pattern of ethnically and economically motivated killings, primarily involving nomadic Fulani herdsmen and indigenous farming communities. And it is enabled—if not by intent, then by the inaction—of the Nigerian state.
A Human Rights Catastrophe
The violence in Benue is not only tragic; it is unconstitutional. Article 33(1) of the 1999 Nigerian Constitution affirms: “Every person has a right to life, and no one shall be deprived intentionally of his life.” The persistent inability of security agencies to preempt or respond effectively to these attacks is a blatant violation of this provision. It constitutes, at best, criminal negligence—and at worst, institutional complicity.
The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) in its 2024 annual report listed Benue among the top three states with the highest number of human rights violations, specifically those linked to mass killings and forced displacement. Yet accountability remains elusive. Perpetrators walk free. Victims are silenced by fear, or forgotten entirely. Justice, if it ever arrives, moves at a glacial pace.
Historical Roots, Political Silence
The violent tension between Fulani herders and Benue’s largely Tiv and Idoma farming communities is not new. It is rooted in a complex interplay of climate-induced migration, land scarcity, and the absence of effective grazing policies. The shrinking of Lake Chad and desert encroachment in the north have driven pastoral communities southward. As Fulani herders push into fertile Middle Belt farmlands, clashes over land use and resource access have turned increasingly deadly.
In 2017, the Benue State Government passed the Open Grazing Prohibition and Ranches Establishment Law—a bold legislative move aimed at addressing the crisis by regulating animal husbandry. Yet enforcement has been inconsistent, and federal alignment with the law remains tepid at best. The federal government’s silence—sometimes even hostility—toward anti-open grazing laws in the Middle Belt fuels a perception that the center is indifferent, or worse, partisan.
According to a 2022 report by Amnesty International, many attacks in Benue are preceded by clear warning signs—threats, suspicious movement of armed men, or even direct intelligence from villagers—yet security responses are either delayed or nonexistent. In the Agatu massacre of 2016, security operatives reportedly arrived 72 hours after the major assault had ended. This delay is not merely operational failure; it borders on state abdication.
The Human Toll
The physical statistics—death tolls, displacement numbers—cannot fully capture the trauma of those left behind. Survivors describe watching loved ones butchered, their homes torched, their livelihoods destroyed. The psychological scarring is profound. There is no meaningful mental health support, no compensation, and no sustained government presence to facilitate recovery.
“I have lost everything,” says Rose Anugba, a 43-year-old widow from Okokolo village in Agatu. “My husband, my two sons, my home… Everything I built for 20 years disappeared in one night.”
She is just one voice among thousands.
Healthcare is crippled. Schools lie abandoned. Farmlands, once the pride of the Benue Valley, are fallow. According to the Benue State Emergency Management Agency (SEMA), the 2024 planting season saw a 40% drop in cultivated acreage in affected LGAs, portending a serious food security crisis in the region.
The Role of the Federal Government
It is no longer tenable for the federal government to treat the Benue killings as a regional issue or an isolated conflict. What is occurring is a national security emergency with the potential to further destabilize the Middle Belt and deepen Nigeria’s ethno-religious fault lines.
President Bola Tinubu’s administration has an obligation to recalibrate national security doctrine—to treat rural terror with the same urgency afforded to urban insurgency. Just as Operation Safe Haven was deployed to secure Plateau State, a dedicated multi-agency operation must be launched in Benue with a clear mandate: neutralize armed groups, disarm illegal militias, and restore displaced populations.
Furthermore, intelligence coordination between local vigilante networks and federal security agencies must be institutionalized—not improvised. In many cases, local communities possess advanced warning of impending attacks, yet there is no structured pathway for such intelligence to be acted upon effectively.
Toward a National Reckoning
What is needed is not simply more troops, but a moral reckoning. How many more villages must be wiped out before the Nigerian state affirms that the lives of Agatu farmers matter? How long will the pastoralist-farmer conflict be allowed to fester as an unresolved inheritance of colonial land policies and climate displacement?
The answer lies in systemic change:
- Federalized enforcement of anti-open grazing laws, with support for states that seek to regulate land use through ranching.
- Strategic disarmament of militias and the recovery of illicit firearms, especially in border communities.
- Humanitarian corridors and safe zones for IDPs to return under the supervision of international partners and national agencies.
- Truth and reconciliation commissions, established at the community level, to document atrocities and promote healing.
A Call to National Conscience
Agatu is not a headline. It is a mirror. It reflects the failure of our security architecture, the hollowness of our democratic promise, and the casual cruelty of a state that has normalized mass death. This cannot go on.
To remain silent in the face of these killings is to become complicit. To wait until the next massacre is to have learned nothing. As the blood continues to soak the earth in Benue, Nigerians must rise—not just in sympathy, but in solidarity.
The North Journals calls upon the National Assembly, the Presidency, and all levels of government to act with urgency and courage. The killings must stop. Justice must prevail. And the people of Agatu—and all of Benue—must be allowed to live in peace.
Because in the end, a nation that cannot guarantee life has no moral claim to nationhood.
Editor’s Note:
If you have been affected by the conflict in Benue State or have information that can assist with ongoing investigations or reporting, reach out to The North Journals at: thenorthjournals@gmail.com
