Gratitude in Grief: As Benue Bleeds, My Heart Breaks Because We Are One Another’s Home

I return here today not with my usual stories of hikes or healing, but with a heavy heart and a soul trembling with grief.

Over 200 lives were stolen in Benue State. Precious, innocent lives. Cut short. Silenced. And yet, mainstream media remained largely until one voice, VeryDarkMan, showed us the unfiltered truth. That silence was loud.

I've been to Benue. I’ve tasted its peace. I’ve shared laughter with a Tiv friend who shaped my life in school. I’ve lived side by side with Idoma neighbours in harmony. Benue is not a distant land to me. It is home. It is Nigeria’s food basket imagine what this instability means to the very soil that feeds us.

I am not from the North East, yet I lived and schooled there. I thrived, loved, and still have family there. I’ve journeyed East, welcomed with open arms and delicious meals. Nigeria, to me, is home in all its corners. Every state holds a piece of me, because I am a traveller at heart, an adventurer in spirit, a Nigerian in every breath.

But this this pain, this helplessness it is too much.

I grew up believing in the honour of the Nigerian Army. Their humility. Their strength. Their fearlessness. But today, I hesitate. I pause, questioning what changed. Is it greed? The decay of discipline? A leadership that seems more detached than present?

Our economy limps. Our dreams are either buried or packed in suitcases headed out of the country. Our talents rot on the shelves of survival. Young people see no option but to japa. We go to bed praying not just for safety but for sanity, only to wake up to more sorrow.

Where is our democracy when people fear to speak? When voices are crushed before they rise? And still, some keep speaking fearless, bold, unshaken.

The question is no longer “what went wrong?” We know. We see it. We feel it.

The new question is: what can go right?

How can we me, you, all of us begin to be human again? To choose kindness. To protect lives. To speak even when our voices shake. To hold space for each other’s pain. To build from the ruins, not just complain about them.

I grieve for Benue. I grieve for Nigeria. But I do not grieve without hope.

Today, I choose to be grateful that the truth was told, that the silence was broken. I am grateful for every Nigerian who still dares to hope, to help, to heal.

Let us not numb ourselves. Let us not normalize this pain. May this grief lead us to action, to unity, to truth.

I write this with a trembling heart but steady hands. Because I still believe we can rise. 

Call to Action 

Be kind to yourself tend to your own heart, your grief, your fatigue.

Because only when we care for ourselves can we truly care for others.

Extend that same love outward to your neighbour, your community, and to the forgotten.

Let’s not become hardened by the pain.

Instead, let it soften us into action compassionate, conscious, collective.

Nigeria needs more tenderness, not just more outrage.

Let the healing begin with you. And let it ripple.

Peace