Sad, As Rivers State Is At War With Itself -By Isaac Asabor

There is something deeply sad, almost tragic, about what Rivers State has become in this moment of its political history. This is not the familiar story of a state besieged by hostile outsiders or strangled by federal neglect. It is far worse than that. Rivers State is at war with itself. Sons of the same soil, beneficiaries of the same mandate and actors now largely operating under the same political banner, the APC, have turned governance into open combat. The battlefield is not ideological difference or policy disagreement; it is ego, supremacy, and raw power. And history, Scripture, and common sense all agree on how this ends if it is allowed to continue.

The Bible offers a timeless framework for understanding the danger Rivers State is courting. Jesus’ warning that “a house divided against itself cannot stand” was not a spiritual metaphor detached from reality. It was a hard political truth. Any system, be it a family, a church, a city, or a nation, that expends its energy fighting itself eventually collapses under the weight of its own contradictions. That warning now hangs ominously over Rivers State.

What makes the situation especially painful is that this is a purely internal crisis. All the major actors are indigenes of Rivers State. These are men who grew up in the same political culture, who understand the fragile balance that has always defined Rivers politics, and who know the consequences of prolonged instability. Yet, despite this knowledge, restraint has been abandoned. Pride has replaced prudence. Dialogue has given way to confrontation. The state is paying the price.

Even more ironic is the partisan reality underpinning the conflict. Many of the warring parties now belong to the same political party, having defected in large numbers from the PDP to the APC. In theory, such a convergence should have fostered unity, internal discipline, and coordinated governance. Instead, it has produced a vicious struggle for dominance within the same house. Rivers State is not divided between rivals; it is fractured from within. The house is not under siege, it is being pulled apart by its own occupants.

This is precisely the scenario Jesus addressed in the Synoptic Gospels. When accused of casting out demons by the power of Satan, he responded with devastating clarity: if Satan were divided against himself, his kingdom would collapse. The logic is inescapable. Self-sabotage is not strategy; it is suicide. Applied to Rivers State, the message is unmistakable. When political actors weaken institutions they are meant to protect, undermine authorities they helped install, and paralyze governance to prove points, they are not winning. They are dismantling the very structure they hope to control.

Today, Rivers State presents the sad spectacle of a government at war with itself. The executive and legislature operate in open hostility. Political allies speak like sworn enemies. Court orders are brandished as weapons, not respected as stabilizing tools. Every action is interpreted through the prism of factional advantage. Governance has become secondary; survival and dominance are now the primary goals. Meanwhile, development stalls, public trust evaporates, and ordinary citizens watch helplessly as their mandate is squandered.

Scripture warns repeatedly about the consequences of such internal chaos. Proverbs declares that whoever troubles his own household will inherit the wind. That wind is already blowing through Rivers State. Investors grow wary. Civil servants work under a cloud of uncertainty. Projects are delayed or abandoned. Policy consistency disappears. A state that should be focused on consolidating its economic potential is instead consumed by endless political firefighting. 

As well known, ancient Israel did not collapse overnight, nor did it fall first to foreign invasion. It fell because it fractured internally. Pride, poor leadership, and refusal to compromise split the kingdom into Israel and Judah. Once divided, both became weaker, more unstable, and eventually vulnerable to conquest. The pattern is clear: division precedes destruction. Rivers State may not be facing military invasion, but it is steadily eroding its political and institutional strength from within.

The Apostle Paul understood this danger when he pleaded with early Christian communities to preserve unity. A divided body, he warned, becomes ineffective. It spends more time fighting itself than fulfilling its purpose. Rivers State today is a textbook example of that dysfunction. Its political class is consumed by litigation, counter-accusations, and brinkmanship, while pressing issues, security, youth unemployment, infrastructure decay, and economic diversification, are pushed to the margins. The state is motionless, not for lack of resources or talent, but because its leaders are too busy battling one another.

Beyond Scripture, culture itself condemns what is unfolding. In African tradition, prolonged conflict among leaders is seen as a grave failure of responsibility. Elders are expected to manage disagreements discreetly, because when they quarrel openly and endlessly, the community suffers. In Rivers State, that cultural wisdom has been ignored. Politics has been reduced to spectacle and warfare. Young people increasingly see leadership not as service, but as conflict. Trust in institutions wanes. Cynicism deepens. The social fabric frays.

The crisis also exposes the emptiness of Nigeria’s contemporary party politics. Ideology has been replaced by convenience. Defection is no longer exceptional; it is routine. When politicians migrate en masse without shared values or clear internal rules, instability is inevitable. Rivers State is now living with that reality. Sharing a party label has not produced unity because ambition has eclipsed discipline, and ego has displaced statesmanship.

History outside the Bible echoes the same warning. Abraham Lincoln’s famous “House Divided” speech was not religious rhetoric; it was political realism. He warned that the United States could not survive half united and half divided. His point was simple: unresolved internal contradictions eventually tear societies apart. Rivers State is confronting its own contradiction; leaders who claim to govern the same state but cannot coexist within the same political space.

What makes this moment particularly sad is that it is entirely avoidable. This crisis does not require victors and vanquished; it requires maturity. It requires leaders who understand that power is meaningless if the structure it rests on collapses. It requires the humility to step back from the brink and the wisdom to recognize that Rivers State is bigger than any individual, faction, or temporary alliance.

If this war continues, there will be no true winners. Even those who emerge temporarily dominant will inherit weakened state, battered institutions, and a legacy stained by needless conflict. Power gained through destruction is hollow. Authority exercised over ruins is an illusion.

Rivers State must choose a different path. Dialogue over dominance. Restraint over revenge. Governance over gladiatorial politics. Disagreement is inevitable in any democracy, but self-destruction is not. The political class must remember why they sought power in the first place, to serve, to develop, and to secure the future of the state.

It is indeed sad that Rivers State is at war with itself. But sadness does not have to become destiny. The warning has been sounded, repeatedly and clearly, across Scripture, history, and culture: a house divided against itself will fall. Rivers State still has time to pull back, heal its fractures, and reclaim a sense of common purpose. The question is whether its leaders have the courage to stop fighting one another before the house collapses on everyone inside.