In the tender embrace of Plateau State, where verdant hills once hummed lullabies of peace, a fresh sorrow has settled like dusk. On the night harmless people went to bed, the Irigwe community in Bassa Local Government Area was enveloped by a tragedy that defies words. As families rested under the quiet stars, armed intruders shattered the stillness, their weapons stealing breath, their flames devouring dreams. Over 50 souls (grandparents whose stories wove the fabric of generations, parents who cradled hope, children whose laughter lit the dawn) were torn from us. Homes, those sacred hearths of memory, collapsed into embers; fields and futures were pillaged, leaving a community to gather its fragments amid grief’s heavy fog.
To the Irigwe people, cradling this unspeakable loss; to the sons and daughters of Plateau State, whose hearts bear the weight of repeated wounds; to every Nigerian bound to this moment in shared mourning: you are not alone. Your tears are our tears, your pain our own, woven into the tapestry of a nation united not just by grief, but by an abiding love. We hold you close, with a compassion that seeks to cradle every broken spirit, a kindness that vows to walk beside you through this shadowed vale.
Yet, even in this darkness, a pulse of hope stirs. Governor Caleb Mutfwang has called an emergency security meeting, a resolute step toward staunching this tide of violence. It is a beacon, a promise that action may follow anguish. Let this be the hour when we round up the perpetrators (these merchants of misery) and bring them to the unflinching light of justice. Not for retribution’s sake, but to affirm a truth as old as humanity: no life can be extinguished without answer, no community left to mourn without redress.
But there is another battle to wage, one fought not with weapons but with wisdom. To those who would twist this tragedy into political kindling, who stoke tribal flames to fracture our fragile peace, hear this: you tread the same path as those who wield the guns. Your rhetoric, veiled in divisive hues, wounds as deeply as any blade. You are not champions of cause, but kin to the chaos that stalks our land. Now is not the time to splinter as sects, to point fingers across imagined lines. Now is the moment to stand as one people, bound by love for our shared home, to face the true monsters not each other, but the shadow that preys upon our unity. Let us lay down the banners of discord and lift instead the standard of togetherness.
This call echoes most urgently to the youth, the lifeblood of our communities, whose eyes see beyond the scars to the promise of tomorrow. You know the soul of this land(its winding trails, its whispering grasses, its heartbeat under moonlit skies. The government strives, its arms stretched across a nation vast and aching; its condolences, like gentle rain, seek to soothe. But rain alone cannot douse this inferno. Step forward, brave hearts) join hands with your elders, your leaders, your sentinels of peace. Craft a mantle of vigilance, a stronghold born of your love for this soil. This is not a summons to strife, but a hymn of guardianship, a pledge to shield those who still dream.
Grief, though heavy, forges resilience where despair might linger. As we kneel to honor the departed(their voices now a chorus in the heavens) let us rise to protect the living. Life, fragile as a petal kissed by dawn, remains sacred, no matter the tempests that howl. To our leaders, from the humblest council to the state’s highest seat, we offer a plea wrapped in hope: let your vows be as enduring as the hills. The arrests in Bokkos, the patrols pledged, the Governor’s swift council, these are seeds, but we yearn for a harvest of justice. Pursue those who sow this sorrow, not to appease anger, but to rebuild trust in a future where peace is more than a fleeting guest.
To the Irigwe community, tending wounds that words cannot heal; to Plateau State, a jewel marred yet radiant; to Nigeria, our home bound by love’s unbreakable thread: you are the heartbeat of our story. Your sorrow unites us, not as mourners alone, but as keepers of a flame that burns brighter for its trials. We see you, we weep with you, we rise with you. This is no fleeting pause, it’s a vow renewed. Let us spin our tears into courage, our pain into purpose, our love into a fortress that stands eternal. The fallen watch, their spirits a gentle wind at our backs. For them, for the children who will dance in our tomorrows, for the sanctity of our shared home, we rise. From Bokkos to Bassa, let us answer the question not with fear, but with a resounding truth: no one’s next.
Together, we are Unbreakable.
