Katsina: A Dinner in The Midst Of Death

Katsina: A Dinner in the Midst of Death

By Abdul-Azeez Suleiman

In the hushed hours of the night, when shadows deepen and the world quiets, an insidious reality unfolds in Katsina State. The air is thick with sorrow, punctuated by the cries of the bereaved and the whispers of the living, who navigate a landscape marred by violence and despair.

Entire villages lie in ruins, their populations decimated by the
relentless advance of banditry. Women, some barely out of childhood, have been subjected to unspeakable atrocities, while the fertile farmlands, once vibrant and teeming with life, now smolder in the aftermath of destruction. Yet, amidst this chaos, a grotesque spectacle of opulence and indifference takes center stage in the state capital.

As President Bola Ahmed Tinubu graces the occasion as the guest of honor, alongside Governor Dikko Umar Radda, a banquet of excess unfolds. This gathering, far removed from the grim realities that plague the populace, embodies not just a failure of leadership but a national disgrace. It is a reminder of the chasm that exists between those in power and the citizens they are sworn to protect. While families mourn their dead and communities grapple with the scars of violence, the leaders of Katsina indulge in a revelry that seems almost surreal against the backdrop of suffering.

Once a proud bastion of Northern dignity and history, Katsina State has transformed into a wasteland of sorrow. The echoes of laughter and music from the banquet hall clash violently with the silent screams of a populace living under siege. Entire communities have been wiped off the map, their stories silenced by the brutality of armed groups. The economic lifeblood of rural Katsina has been choked, as banditry reigns supreme, sowing fear and despair among farmers who once tilled their lands with hope.

Women, some married and others still in their formative years, have become victims of heinous acts, subjected to violence in broad daylight. The very essence of community has been shattered; families are torn apart, and the social fabric that once united the people has disintegrated under the weight of grief and loss. Yet, while the blood of innocents stains the earth, those entrusted with the welfare of the people choose to dine and dance to Rarara music, turning a blind eye to the suffering that surrounds them.

The grand dinner hosted by the political elite serves as a chilling testament to their detachment from the realities of their constituents. At a time when leaders should be in crisis meetings, strategizing on how to address the rampant insecurity and provide solace to the grieving, they instead gather to showcase their wealth and privilege. Adorned in gold necklaces, bangles, and rings worth millions, the wives and children of the privileged revel in an atmosphere of excess, while the grief-stricken villagers can barely afford to bury their dead.

In a particularly brazen display of insensitivity, a billboard outside the city boldly proclaims, “KATSINA BA KORAFI”—Katsina has no complaints. This statement is not merely a misrepresentation of the reality but a mockery of the silent suffering of a people besieged by violence. It serves as a chilling reminder that the leadership, rather than addressing the crisis, chooses to silence dissent and maintain an illusion of stability.

Even the custodians of Katsina’s cultural and spiritual heritage, the Emirs of Daura and Katsina, find themselves ensnared in this web of betrayal. Once revered figures who stood against tyranny, they now sit among the merrymakers, nodding along to songs composed by the transactional court musician Rarara. These tunes, intended to glorify President Tinubu, drown out the wails of widows and orphans just beyond the city walls, further deepening the sense of betrayal felt by the populace.

The betrayal of the people of Katsina is profound, echoing through the annals of history. It is a betrayal not just of trust but of humanity itself. The stark contrast between the opulence of the banquet and the desolation outside is a reflection of a systemic failure—a failure that has allowed the blood of the North to become cheap and its people disposable. This is not merely a political crisis; it is a moral one, and it signifies a broader malaise that afflicts the nation.

One cannot help but draw comparisons with the southern states, where the outcry against injustice is met with immediate action. In those regions, leaders would be summoned, and protesters would fill the streets, demanding accountability and justice. Yet, in Katsina, a culture of transactional loyalty and complicit silence has emboldened those in power to trample over the graves of their own people without consequence. The silence of the populace, born out of fear and despair, allows this grotesque dance of indifference to continue unabated.

To the grieving mothers, the orphaned children, and the farmers whose lands lie in ashes, your pain is real, and your anger is justified. This is a call to conscience—a reminder that history is watching. The youth of Katsina must remember this night, the faces of those who laughed while they wept, and the leaders who feasted while their people bled. History is never kind to the traitors of the people’s trust.

To President Tinubu, Governor Radda, the Emirs, and their chorus of sycophants, know this: your arrogance today will be your indictment tomorrow. Leadership is a sacred trust, and you have desecrated it. The consequences of your actions—or lack thereof—will not be forgotten. The people of Katsina deserve better; Nigeria deserves better.

This national disgrace cannot continue unchecked. The leaders must be held accountable, and the voices of the people must rise above the din of indifference. It is imperative that the leadership of Katsina shifts from a focus on self-aggrandizement to a commitment to the welfare of the people. The state must be a place where the cries of the bereaved are met with action, where the suffering of the innocent is acknowledged, and where governance is a reflection of the people’s needs.

The North, once a proud region steeped in history and dignity, must reclaim its narrative. It must rise from the ashes of despair and demand a leadership that is responsive, compassionate, and committed to justice. The time for change is now; the time for accountability is now. The people of Katsina must unite, not just in their grief but in their determination to demand a better future.

This is not just a shame that stains the political class; it is a stain on the moral fabric of a nation fast losing its humanity. The leaders must awaken to the reality that their actions have consequences, that their indifference perpetuates a cycle of violence and despair. The people of Katsina, and indeed all of Nigeria, deserve leaders who prioritize the welfare of their constituents over their own desires for wealth and power.

This must stop. The North deserves better. Nigeria deserves better. History is watching, and it will not forget the choices made in this dark hour. It is time for a reckoning, time for the leaders to rise to the occasion, and time for the people to reclaim their dignity.