By: Nurudeen Alimi
This is a reminder to those who may have forgotten — and now echo a dangerously divisive falsehood. When the indiscriminate killings by Boko Haram and bandits, who spare neither Christian nor Muslim, are deliberately reduced to a “Christian genocide” narrative, and such distortion is amplified beyond the shores of our dear country, one must ask: can we still truthfully call ourselves God-fearing?
Where were these voices when mosques were bombed and Muslims slaughtered?
Between 2010 and 2014, under the Jonathan administration, Boko Haram struck Muslim-majority areas — from the Kano Central Mosque bombing that killed scores of worshippers during Jumu’ah prayers, to the Mubi and Yola mosque attacks in Adamawa during evening worship. Yet Muslims nationwide mourned quietly, blaming the terrorists, not their neighbours or government. No one branded those tragedies a “war on Islam.”
Even before then, under President Olusegun Obasanjo (1999–2007), Nigeria endured sectarian crises that consumed both Christians and Muslims. The Kaduna riots of 2000, the Jos crisis of 2001, and the Yelwa–Shendam conflict of 2004 saw mosques and churches alike burned and worshippers killed. Still, the nation sought peace, not perpetual division.
The truth is that terrorism and banditry in Nigeria have never been selective in cruelty. Boko Haram’s bombs have ripped through churches, mosques, markets, schools, and barracks alike. Bandits have ravaged communities from Zamfara to Benue without asking their victims’ religion. The suffering is shared, the pain collective. Reducing this national tragedy to a one-faith persecution narrative is both dishonest and perilous. It weaponizes religion, feeds resentment, and erodes the fragile trust holding our multi-faith society together.
Some of these propagators, including certain foreign politicians, fail to grasp the danger of selective outrage. When violence is interpreted through a sectarian lens, it empowers extremists and undermines genuine security efforts. Every reckless claim of “Christian genocide” invites external interference and emboldens hate-peddlers at home.
The Nigerian government must treat this as a national-security concern, not mere propaganda. Such narratives distort international perception and threaten unity. The security agencies and Ministry of Information should proactively publish verified attack data, communicate clearly, and educate the public on the non-religious nature of these crimes. Nigeria must own its story before others define it maliciously.
Faith and traditional leaders must also act responsibly. They should correct falsehoods, issue joint condemnations, and comfort all victims — not just those from their own faith. True godliness demands fairness and compassion, not selective empathy.
The media bears equal responsibility. Headlines should be balanced and factual, not sensational. Every victim deserves dignity, regardless of belief. Accurate reporting that highlights shared suffering, not division, is a patriotic duty.
As the Tinubu administration pursues reforms and seeks stability, it must recognise that security extends beyond weapons. Unity is the ultimate defence. Government must hold purveyors of hate speech accountable — whether online agitators or public figures exploiting religion for clout. Laws against incitement should be enforced impartially, while community-based intelligence is strengthened to expose manipulators of local grievances.
Nigeria’s moral compass must also be reset. To claim piety while spreading half-truths is hypocrisy. The God who listens in churches also hears in mosques. The tears of a mother in Plateau are no different from those in Zamfara; the blood spilled in Benue is as red as that in Borno.
If we must fear God, let it reflect in fairness, truth, and empathy. Our nation’s healing depends not on the loudness of our prayers but on the sincerity of our justice. We must reject convenient amnesia and manipulative faith.
Let every Nigerian — Christian, Muslim, or otherwise — rise above selective outrage and embrace shared humanity. Only then can we silence the merchants of hate and truly rebuild a nation where no one’s grief is graded by religion.
