There comes a time in a nation's life when its people must confront a painful truth: when the government cannot protect you, you must protect yourself.
That moment has arrived in Nigeria.
On February 1, 2024, an armed militia descended on a small village in Benue State to execute a chilling mission: the assassination of Usman Doya, a man who had been in hiding since 2020 after criticizing the growing wave of religious extremism masquerading as herder conflict. His killing wasn't just another act of violence—it was an announcement. A declaration from a network of extremists that no one marked for death will be spared.
And they meant it.
The leaked “death list,” circulated through shadowy channels, features critics, activists, and public figures who have spoken out against radical ideologies. Names like Sunday Igboho, Tunde Bako, Grace Ayoola, Jide Dada Mofolorunso, and Sola Ezekiel Asaolu—all tagged as enemies by extremists emboldened by a climate of impunity.
Take *Sola* Ezekiel Asaolu, for instance. In 2019, his father was murdered in Benue State alongside 16 other farmers during a brutal night raid by armed herdsmen. The attack was targeted, calculated, and left the community devastated. In the wake of the massacre, Sola condemned the killers in strong, public terms and demanded justice. That act of courage put him on the wrong side of a dangerous ideology.
Soon after, Sola began receiving threats. When strange men were spotted trailing him in Lagos, he disappeared. To this day, no one knows where he is.
But his story is not an outlier. It is part of a growing pattern—one that includes the tragic killing of Deborah Samuel, a university student in Sokoto, who was lynched in 2022 by her peers over a WhatsApp post deemed blasphemous. Her gruesome murder was filmed and circulated online, with barely any consequences for the perpetrators.
Or Leah Sharibu, abducted by Boko Haram in 2018 for refusing to renounce her Christian faith. While others were freed, Leah remains in captivity—a haunting symbol of the state’s silence. Dandiyata who was alos picked from his Abuja home since 2019 is yet to be seen.
The System Has Collapsed
The Nigerian state is hemorrhaging—morally, politically, and institutionally. What began as isolated incidents of violence has escalated into a full-blown ideological war, waged in the shadows, fueled by religious extremism, and enabled by a failed system of governance.
Unsafe farmlands and deserted communities have crippled food production. Investors are fleeing. Survival now dictates every financial decision. Fear and suspicion define community life. Ethnic and religious mistrust have widened beyond repair in some regions.
From students to skilled professionals, Nigerians are leaving in droves—not for greener pastures, but for safety.
A country bleeding out—slowly, painfully—with no urgent response from the very leaders sworn to protect it.
When Justice Fails, Survival Begins. In 2018, retired General T.Y. Danjuma warned Nigerians to defend themselves. At the time, his words sparked controversy. Today, they echo with terrifying clarity.
This is not a call for vengeance, but a call for preparedness. It is a call for community vigilance, for collective security, and for the courage to admit that we are on our own.
Until the Nigerian government chooses to act like a government, the people must act like survivors.
Because as long as extremists continue to hunt voices like Sola’s, silence will never be safe.
And if nothing changes, Nigeria will not just lose its citizens—it will lose its soul.
Segun Ajayi is a public affairs analyst and columnist focused on governance, human rights, and national security.
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