Who Will Defend the Defenseless Citizens in a Nation of Military Bombings and Police Stampede Deaths?, by John Egbeazien Oshodi

The quiet morning in Gidan Sama and Rumtuwa was brutally interrupted on Christmas Day when an airstrike destroyed homes, killed at least ten people, and turned livestock and food stores into ashes. What should have been a day of joy and celebration became an unimaginable tragedy. Villagers, stunned by the devastation, insist they are innocent farmers with no connection to any terrorist group. Faruk Abubakar, a resident, recounted the horror: “We were just starting our day. Some of us were drinking pap, others were returning from the mosque, and then the aircraft appeared. Before we could understand what was happening, there was fire everywhere.”

The scene after the airstrike was one of devastation and despair. Bodies lay scattered, livestock roasted alive, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning crops and flesh. Hauwa’u, a young girl who survived the airstrike, could barely speak through her tears. “I saw them burning,” she sobbed. “My mother, my father, my siblings—they are all gone. How can this be justified?” The villagers, shattered by the loss of loved ones, homes, and livelihoods, reject the official narrative. “We are not criminals,” said Alhaji Audu Abubakar, his voice shaking with anger. “We are farmers. Our only crime is living in this village.”

The Nigerian military, however, presented a different narrative. Officials claimed the operation targeted the Lakurawa terrorist group, blaming the destruction on secondary explosions. Chief of Defence Staff, General Christopher Musa, further justified the airstrike, stating that individuals harboring criminals make themselves legitimate targets. “From what we have seen, there were criminals in that place,” Musa said. The Minister of State for Defence, Bello Matawalle, also visited Sokoto to offer condolences and promised a “thorough investigation.” Maj-Gen. Edward Buba, Director of Defence Media Operations, argued that the casualties were an unfortunate consequence of the destruction of the terrorists’ logistics base, which housed dangerous materials like hand cartridges and explosives. “When the munition hits, there will be a secondary explosion… That led to the death of about 10 persons that were reported,” Buba stated. He emphasized the military’s extended intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance efforts, claiming the operation was meticulously planned and even rescheduled to minimize civilian casualties. Yet, this explanation has done little to pacify critics who question how such a “painstaking” operation still resulted in civilian deaths.

A History of Repeated Tragedies

The Sokoto tragedy mirrors numerous other incidents where military actions have led to civilian casualties. In December 2023, a drone strike during a Maulud celebration in Tudun Biri, Kaduna State, killed 85 civilians. Families gathered for a religious event were suddenly obliterated. Survivors described the horrific scene: women and children screaming as flames consumed their makeshift tents, fathers trying desperately to shield their families from the onslaught. A young boy, the sole survivor of his family, sat in shock among the wreckage, whispering repeatedly, “Why did this happen?” Despite public outcry and international condemnation, the promised investigation yielded no visible results. Survivors like one unnamed man lamented, “We were just praying. Children were dancing, families were together, and then the bombs came. They said it was a mistake, but how do you make such a mistake?”

Earlier that year, in January 2023, an airstrike at the Nasarawa-Benue border killed 37 people, including 27 pastoralists. Villagers who witnessed the attack recalled the chaos as the bombs fell, tearing through livestock and human flesh alike. “It was a slaughter,” said a herder who narrowly escaped with his life. “We begged them to stop, but the sky kept raining fire.” The victims, gathered at the border for routine activities, were reduced to casualties of another operational error.

In April 2022, a similar tragedy unfolded in Kurebe village, Niger State, where six children were killed by a fighter jet intended to target terrorists. The children, playing outside their homes, were obliterated in an instant. Their mother, Fatima, collapsed on the ground, clutching the charred remains of her youngest child. “They were my babies,” she wailed. “They did nothing wrong. Why did they kill them?” The same year, in Katsina State, a bomb blast in Kunkuna village injured 13 residents and killed one, leaving the community shattered.

Even more egregious were the bombings in Borno State. In 2017, an airstrike on an Internally Displaced Persons camp in Rann killed 52 people and injured 120 others. Survivors described the scene as apocalyptic: tents engulfed in flames, children screaming for parents who would never answer, and charred bodies scattered across the camp. Three years later, a similar strike in Sakotoku village claimed 17 lives, including children. “We thought we were safe,” said a mother who lost her husband and two sons. “But even in our own homes, death found us.”

Each of these tragedies was followed by the same refrain of apologies, investigations, and unfulfilled promises. Survivors and families have grown weary of hearing the word “investigation,” which often signals the beginning of inaction.

The Case for Independent Oversight

The repeated failure of military-led investigations highlights the urgent need for independent oversight. Investigations conducted by external bodies, such as ECOWAS, the United Nations, or internationally recognized organizations, are crucial to ensuring transparency and impartiality. These inquiries should focus on identifying systemic weaknesses, recommending actionable reforms, and rebuilding trust between the military and affected communities.

An independent investigative body would bring credibility to the process and ensure that findings are not tainted by conflicts of interest. The goal should not be to conduct a witch hunt but to learn from these tragedies and prevent future ones. By examining intelligence gathering, operational planning, and execution, such a body can provide clear recommendations to improve protocols and safeguard civilian lives during military operations.

The Human Toll of Negligence

The cost of these tragedies goes far beyond the immediate loss of life. Survivors like Hauwa’u, who witnessed her parents and siblings burn to death in Sokoto, carry a burden of trauma that words cannot capture. “I saw them burning,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “My mother, my father, my siblings—they are all gone. How can this be justified?”

In Tudun Biri, a mother who lost all five of her children in the Maulud celebration bombing described the aftermath: “I buried my babies with my own hands. Their bodies were so mangled, I could barely recognize them.” Similar stories echo from Kurebe, Rann, and countless other communities devastated by military errors.

The psychological scars left by these tragedies run deep, affecting not only individual survivors but entire communities. Children who lose parents, families who bury their loved ones in mass graves, and villages reduced to rubble are left grappling with grief, mistrust, and despair. Without accountability and systemic reform, these wounds will fester, undermining the social fabric of affected regions and deepening the divide between the military and the people it is meant to protect.

The Path Forward

To break the cycle of tragedy and impunity, Nigeria must take decisive action. The first step is to involve independent international bodies in the investigation of incidents like the Sokoto airstrike. These inquiries must be transparent, impartial, and focused on identifying systemic failures. Recommendations from such investigations should guide the military in adopting better protocols for intelligence gathering, operational planning, and execution.

Additionally, the government must prioritize civilian safety in all military operations. This includes developing and enforcing stringent measures to minimize collateral damage and providing psychological and material support to affected communities. Survivors must not be left to rebuild their lives alone; they need the government to show that it values their lives and is committed to protecting them.

A Call for Accountability

The villagers of Gidan Sama, Runtuwa, Tudun Biri, Rann, and countless other communities are asking one question: “Who will speak for us?” Their stories are not just cries of anguish; they are demands for justice and reform. By involving independent investigators, Nigeria can demonstrate that it is willing to learn from its mistakes and prioritize the lives of its citizens.

The time for excuses and empty promises has passed. Will the government take responsibility and implement meaningful change, or will it allow these tragedies to continue? The answer will determine whether Nigeria can move toward a future where accountability is not a rarity but a cornerstone of its governance and military operations.

The Nigeria Police Force: Excuses and Failures That Mirror Military Negligence

The recent stampedes in Abuja, Ibadan, and Anambra that claimed over 70 lives lay bare the glaring inefficiency of the Nigeria Police Force (NPF). Tasked with public safety, their excuse that they were “not informed” of these gatherings is as disgraceful as it is hollow. The NPF’s failure to anticipate and manage these crises underscores its indifference and inefficiency. Public safety is not optional—it is their fundamental duty, and their absence turned desperation into disaster.

In Abuja, families gathered for food in the early hours, only to face unregulated chaos. Similar scenes unfolded in Ibadan and Anambra, where proper police oversight could have prevented the deadly stampedes. Instead of taking responsibility, the NPF deflected blame, showing a blatant disregard for lives lost. In any functional society, the Inspector General of Police and commissioners involved would resign or face prosecution. Yet, in Nigeria, they remain shielded by systemic impunity.

This mirrors the failures of the military in tragedies like the Sokoto airstrike, where excuses such as “secondary explosions” replaced accountability. Both institutions show a disturbing pattern: ordinary Nigerians bear the brunt of their negligence while officials evade responsibility. Who will speak for the average Nigerian when those sworn to protect them abandon their duty?

The Military and Police: Twin Failures in a Broken System

The Nigerian military’s repeated tragedies, like the Sokoto airstrike, reveal a culture of deflection and impunity. Civilian deaths are dismissed as “secondary explosions,” while promises of investigations yield no justice. Who will speak for the farmers of Sokoto or the worshippers of Tudun Biri, whose lives were destroyed by bombs meant for enemies but fell on innocents?

The Nigeria Police Force follows the same pattern. Over 70 lives were lost in the recent stampedes in Abuja, Ibadan, and Anambra, with the NPF excusing their absence by claiming they were “not informed.” Their failure to anticipate and manage these crises turned hunger into death sentences. Public safety is their duty—not an option.

The plight of Nigerians trapped in a system that prioritizes power over humanity is a heartbreaking reality. Human rights defenders like Dele Farotimi, who dare to speak truth to power, are silenced, while the cries of the vulnerable are ignored. Who will speak for them? Who will speak the truth? Farotimi reminds us that God will judge those who fail to protect the innocent. Until accountability is demanded, justice will remain elusive, and the cries of the average Nigerian will continue to fall on deaf ears—and on God’s ears, too.

Professor John Egbeazien Oshodi, born in Uromi, Edo State, Nigeria, is an American-based police and prison scientist, forensic/clinical psychologist, public policy psychologist, and legal psychologist. He’s a government advisor on forensic-clinical psychological services in the USA and the founder of the Dr. John Egbeazien Oshodi Foundation for Psychological Health. With a significant role in introducing forensic psychology to Nigeria through N.U.C. and Nasarawa State University, he’s also a former Secretary-General of the Nigeria Psychological Association. He’s taught at esteemed institutions like Florida Memorial University, Florida International University, Nova Southeastern University, and more. and is currently an online faculty member at ISCOM University, Weldios University and Walden University.