Bloodbath on the Plateau: Where is Christopher Musa?
By Tochu Okorie
The latest massacre of Christians on Palm Sunday in Plateau State is not merely another grim statistic in Nigeria’s long catalogue of bloodshed—it is a searing indictment of a nation drifting dangerously close to normalizing terror. That such barbarity could unfold on a day of profound spiritual significance, when worshippers gather in peace and solemn reflection, underscores the audacity of the attackers, the alarming vulnerability of the victims and the failure of security leadership. This raises deeply troubling questions: where is the response? Where is the urgency? Where is the leadership?
Where, indeed, is Christopher Musa?
The return of General Christopher Musa as the Defence minister was widely celebrated as a square peg in a square hole. However, the long series of terror attacks across Nigeria since after his oath of office has left Nigerians wondering if Musa is indeed the man for the job.
In any functioning state, the massacre of innocent citizens—targeted in their places of worship—would trigger an immediate, coordinated, and overwhelming security response. Heads would roll, strategies would be recalibrated, and the full weight of the state would descend upon the perpetrators. Armoured helicopters and drones would be rolled out in their numbers in a coordinated pursuit. All the tactical units of the various agencieswould be marshalled out. No one would rest until perpetrators were either apprehended or neutralized. In Nigeria, however, the pattern is depressingly familiar: condemnations are issued, committees are formed, and the killing fields remain undisturbed.
Plateau State has, for years, been a theatre of recurring violence, often with chilling religious and ethnic undertones. Yet, despite repeated assurances from security agencies, the carnage persists. Communities are left to bury their dead, rebuild their homes, and brace for the next inevitable attack. It is a cycle of grief and impunity that speaks to a deeper structural failure. But, where are the men whose responsibility it is to lead the response? Where is General Christopher Musa? Where is Nuhu Ribadu, the National Security Adviser? Where is the Chief of Defence Staff, General Femi Oluyede?
The silence—or at best, the sluggishness—of Nigeria’s security leadership in the wake of this latest atrocity is both baffling and unacceptable. The office of the Chief of Defence Staff is not ceremonial; it is the nerve center of the nation’s military response. Nigerians are entitled to know what concrete steps are being taken to dismantle the terror networks operating with such brazen confidence in Plateau and beyond.
Equally concerning is the apparent disconnect between Abuja’s corridors of power and the realities on the ground. While officials deliberate and issue carefully worded statements, rural communities remain exposed, their lives hanging precariously in the balance. This is not merely a failure of intelligence; it is a failure of will, which sometimes is interpreted as complicity – rightly or wrongly.
The Defence Minister, the service chiefs, and indeed the entire security architecture must confront an uncomfortable truth: the current approach is not working, whatever it is. The persistence of these attacks suggests either a gross underestimation of the threat or a troubling complacency in addressing it, or worse yet, complicity none of which is tolerable.
Nigeria cannot afford to continue on this path. The implications go beyond Plateau State. Each unpunished massacre emboldens the perpetrators, erodes public confidence, and deepens the fractures within an already fragile national fabric. The perception—rightly or wrongly—that certain lives are lessimportant and therefore less protected than others is a dangerous narrative that must be urgently countered, not in carefully worded rhetoric but in visible unmistakable action to stamp out the evil.
What is required now is not rhetoric, not mere “resolve”, but action – scalable action that the public can assess. Intelligence gathering must be sharpened, local security collaborations strengthened, and rapid response mechanisms made truly rapid – helicopters, drones, gunships marshalled in coordinated chase. More importantly, there must be accountability. Nigerians deserve to see that failure has consequences, and that leadership is not immune from scrutiny.
The question “Where is Christopher Musa?” is therefore not a personal attack; it is a national demand. It is a call for visibility, for responsibility, and for decisive action. Leadership, especially in times of crisis, must not only exist—it must be seen, heard, and felt.
As the nation mourns yet another senseless loss of life, one can only hope that this tragedy will mark a turning point. That it will jolt those in authority out of inertia and compel a response commensurate with the scale of the crisis.
Because if this, too, fades into the background noise of Nigeria’s troubled security landscape, then the real tragedy is not just the lives lost—but the collective resignation of a nation that has come to expect too little from those sworn to protect it. I therefore call on the President on whose desk the buck stops, to immediately demand accountability from these heads of the agencies who are saddled with the responsibility of protecting lives and properties of Nigerians.
For feedback: [email protected]
