Grief Is Not A Stage For Political Drama -By Abdulsamad Danji & Sadeeq Shuaibu

There are moments in life that demand silence, dignity, and deep human empathy. The loss of a mother is one of those sacred moments. It is a time when pain is raw, emotions are fragile, and the heart seeks nothing but solace. Yet, in a deeply troubling display of misplaced priorities, what should have remained a private space for mourning was turned into a stage for political and religious theatrics.

The recent attempt by Isa Ali Pantami to orchestrate a reconciliation between Nasir El-Rufai and Uba Sani at a burial ceremony raises serious moral and ethical questions. At what point does mediation become intrusion? When does the pursuit of peace lose its humanity?

A graveside is not a negotiation table. It is not a venue for political settlements, nor a backdrop for public displays of forced unity. It is a sacred ground where the living come to honor the dead, to grieve, and to begin the slow, painful journey of healing. To insert unresolved conflicts into such a moment is not only inappropriate it is deeply insensitive.

What makes this situation even more disturbing is the context surrounding it. The wounds in question are not trivial misunderstandings; they are rooted in experiences of detention, denial of bail, and emotional trauma. These are not issues that can be brushed aside with a handshake or a symbolic gesture in front of cameras. They are heavy, personal burdens that require time, accountability, and genuine remorse to heal.

Forgiveness is not a performance. It is not something that can be summoned on command, especially not in the presence of unresolved injustice. It is a deeply personal process one that cannot be rushed, staged, or imposed. To expect a grieving son to embrace those he perceives as responsible for his suffering, at the very moment he is burying his mother, is to ignore the depth of his pain and the complexity of his experience.

There is also a troubling hypocrisy in this entire episode. Where were these urgent calls for reconciliation during the period of hardship? Where were the voices of mediation when the suffering was ongoing? It is difficult to reconcile the silence during times of injustice with the sudden urgency for peace at a moment of grief. True reconciliation does not begin when it is convenient or visible it begins when it is needed most.

This is not to dismiss the importance of peace or the role of religious and community leaders in fostering unity. On the contrary, mediation is a noble and necessary pursuit. But timing, context, and consent are everything. Without them, even the best intentions can become harmful.

Respect for the dead must go hand in hand with respect for the living. And the living, especially those in mourning, deserve the space to feel, to process, and to heal without pressure or expectation. They deserve empathy, not performance; support, not symbolism.

True Sulhu true reconciliation cannot be forced. It cannot be staged at a burial or captured in a photograph. It must be built on a foundation of truth, accountability, and sincere willingness from all parties involved. Anything less is not peace it is pretense.

In the end, we must ask ourselves a difficult but necessary question: Are we truly seeking reconciliation, or are we merely seeking the appearance of it?

Because when peace is performed without justice, it ceases to be peace at all.