Skip to main content


FULANI HERDSMEN ABI HEADLESS MEN?

Millions of people worldwide, over the last few months ,have commented and are still expressing gross discontentment over the recent genocidal and unprovoked attacks on southerners by terrorists masquerading as  'herdsmen'. It was never my intention to join the public vituperations over this, but the fact that adequate sensitization is needed especially on the need for vigilance necessitates this piece.

One of the problems of Nigerians is the 'medicine after death' syndrome. We are never pro-active and vigilant. I am not here to condemn anyone, no matter how highly placed. When the people of Agatu groaned and mourned, and blood poured, we took with with kid gloves, exactly illustrating the igbo adage that 'e bulu ozu onye ozo,  o di ka ebu ugwu nku'. If you need interpretation, look for anyone one of igbo extraction. We felt that the invasion of Agatu was entirety a Benue State affair. That was exactly how Boko Haram started. The Agatu killings was swept under the carpet, as usual. Not long after the one of Aninri came and was equally handled lightly. Then the one of Uzo Uwani. The infamous role of the security agencies reminded me of the typical Nigerian Fire Service that comes to a fire scene when the fire must have wreaked substantial havoc, or policemen who throng a crime scene only when the criminals had done their act.

Something in me makes me believe that these people are not actually herdsmen. They could be a group of bloodthirsty terrorists with set out goals. We had been having herdsmen around for decades .Granted, the bad blood between herdsmen and farmers had been in existence from time immemorial, but not to the extent we have found ourselves in. The laissez fare attitude of the federal government raises eyebrows, and makes a lot of people believe that these killings may have political, religious and ethnic undertones. If herdsmen could be armed with sophisticated weapons, other livestock farmers (rearers of sheep, goats, poultry and even fish) may soon arm themselves!

A lot of technocrats and experts have suggested the creation of grazing fields for cattle rearers, but it seems government is not at home with such a lofty idea for reasons best known to it. The fact that the South Easterners are always at the receiving end of any quagmire or unrest is worrisome. We have not yet come to terms the unabated killings of Igbo in the north for donkey's decades, now we are slaughtered right in our backyards. We are in trouble.

This is time to eschew cowardice and brace up to this inevitable challenge to guard our territories. We don't need to take up arms. Igbos are peaceful, and because people misconstrue our peaceful nature for cowardice, we should try other civil options to save whatever is left of our inheritance. Watch your back!

Our leaders have no choice now but to mobilise everyone, especially at the grassroots to halt this spate of killings which could metamorphose into civil war if not nipped in the bud. Father Mbaka and other radical eastern leaders who were up in arms against the past government have suddenly become silent. This is the time we need their radicalism the most. Since the security agencies cannot come to our aid in times like this, where lies our fate? Igbos are prayerful people, and as usual, we commit our lives into the hands of God.

Chukwudi Anagbogu



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

RELATIONSHIP RUINED BY ZEE WORLD

 Story by Chukwudi Anagbogu  In the bustling city of Lagos, Nigeria, evenings once meant family time—gathering around the dinner table, sharing stories, and connecting over meals. But things began to change when Zee World, the Indian television channel showcasing Hindi dramas, became a household staple. It all started innocently enough. Adama, a young woman in her late twenties, was drawn to the elaborate storylines and dramatic twists of the telenovelas. With their glitzy portrayals of love, betrayal, and family drama, she found herself mesmerized by characters like Rani and Raj. Each night, she tuned in, eager to see how the latest episode would unfold. At first, Adama’s enthusiasm was infectious. Her younger brother, Chike, and her parents would join her on the sofa, laughing and gasping at the ridiculous plot turns. But as weeks turned into months, something shifted. Adama began prioritizing her viewing schedule over family interactions. Dinners turned quiet as everyone wa...
Post a Comment
Read more

SEX GONE WRONG: A TOUCHING STORY

  By Chukwudi Anagbogu  In the bustling city of Lagos, Nigeria, life moves fast. Among the endless honking of cars, the vibrant chatter of market vendors, and the warm tropical breeze, lived a young woman named Amaka. At twenty-four, she was a soft-spoken, diligent student of Accounting at the University of Lagos. Life for her had been a steady rhythm of family, studies, and church. Amaka had always been the dutiful daughter—never one to step out of line, and she upheld her moral values with a deep-rooted sense of pride. But like many young women her age, Amaka longed for something more. Though she was content with her life, a part of her wondered about love—the kind of love she read about in novels and heard about in songs. She had seen friends fall in love, sometimes stumbling and getting hurt, but other times finding happiness. Yet, she had always been cautious, holding her heart close and believing that love would find her when the time was right. That time came when she m...
1 comment
Read more

DO THE DEAD CARE?: FULL STORY by Chukwudi Anagbogu

   Stories by Chukwudi Anagbogu (+2348061199777) In the heart of Nigeria, beneath the sweltering sun and among the lush green hills of Igbo land, lay the village of Umuokoro. Surrounded by thick forests that whispered ancient secrets and a river that flowed like a living vein through the land, Umuokoro was a place where tradition and the modern world intersected. The people here held fast to their beliefs, passed down through generations—stories of spirits, ancestors, and the unseen forces that governed their lives. But in recent years, something had begun to change. It was subtle at first, a sense of unease that settled over the village like a fine mist. People whispered about strange occurrences in the night, of shadows moving in the corners of their homes, and of voices that spoke from the air, calling their names. It was said that the dead were returning, walking among the living once more. At the center of the village stood the house of Chief Emeka, the village leader. He...
Post a Comment
Read more