Women of the NASS and the Lament of Benue
- And it came to pass in the city of Abuja, the seat of the great kingdom’s power, that the gates of the National Assembly, called NASS, were opened unto the people for a full week of council and discourse, which was known in those days as “Open NASS Week 2025.”
- On the eighth day of the seventh month, in the year of our Lord, the House of Representatives did gather in solemn assembly to hold a special convocation concerning a matter weighty and just: the “Special Seats Bill,” a decree proposed to increase the number of women who sit in the councils of both the federal and the states throughout the land. For the cry of the people was great for balance and equity, and the voice of women was to be lifted high in governance.
- Among those gathered were lawmakers, leaders of civil societies, and emissaries from distant lands, who spake with one accord, testifying to the urgency of this cause. The First Lady of the kingdom, named Oluremi, surnamed Tinubu, though absent from the assembly, sent forth her words via her envoy, exhorting that women’s leadership be rooted in merit and wisdom, not as tokens to placate the many, lest tokenism breed contempt instead of justice.
- But behold, the day before this convocation, on the seventh day of the seventh month, the Open NASS Week was ushered in with great pomp and solemnity. The Speaker of the House, one Tajudeen called Abbas, and the Senate President, Godswill named Akpabio, each did stand and affirm their solemn covenant to uphold transparency, foster democratic participation, and strengthen the bonds of trust between rulers and ruled. Yet the people murmured among themselves, suspecting that such promises might be but the silver-tongued words of men enwrapped in power’s shadow.
- Meanwhile, far from the marble halls of Abuja, in the troubled heart of Benue, there was a bitter lament. For on the tenth day of the seventh month, the watchers of human rights, the assembly known as Amnesty International, did issue a grievous report. They lifted up their voices and declared unto all the nations that Benue was beset by great violence, and the cries of the afflicted rose as a storm before the throne of justice.
- The report spake thus: that over five hundred thousand souls—yea, five hundred and ten thousand and eighty-two men, women, and children—were torn from their homes by bands of marauding gunmen. These hosts of destruction came upon the land under the veil of night, wielding firearms that roared with death, and terrible knives and machetes that wrought grievous wounds, yea, even severed hands and limbs.
- The displaced were cast into camps, where conditions were grievous beyond measure—water scant and unclean, the ground defiled, the air heavy with woe, and food and medicine falling short of what was required to sustain life. Their plaints were heard upon high, yet the authorities tarried in justice. For the report laid bare the cruel truth: the perpetrators walked free, unpunished, and this failure to lay hold of evil only fomented further violence, bringing desolation and despair.
- Amnesty International called upon the rulers with thunderous voice: “Give ear and do swiftly; come forth with aid and sustenance; break the chains of impunity, and shield the weak, that peace may yet again reign in Benue.”
- Thus, while the capital did debate issues of justice and representation, the land itself groaned under the burden of grief and fear, a stark reminder that the work of governance must extend beyond halls of power to the very souls of the afflicted
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