One Too Many

….the weight of knowing and remembering

Students and teachers abducted in Oyo State, Nigeria. One teacher beheaded by bandits.

That line has been ringing in my head for weeks now.

The first week the news broke, I was numb. Why? Because it was one too many.

I say one too many because as a broadcaster who worked in radio for years and handled news programmes, I was constantly exposed to stories of banditry attacks, among others. And beyond stories like these, there were countless other societal vices that made the news, slowly eating at me as I showed up daily for the job I had dreamt of my whole life.

When I got the opportunity to step away from active broadcasting, I took it. I needed air.

My mental state was taking a hit, and I needed space from the triggers. I told myself I would stay away from newspapers, stop watching the news on TV, stop listening to political analysis on the radio, and just stick to Spotify for music.

And for a while, I succeeded.

But I doubt there’s a way to completely shut yourself out from the world, unless you have no phone connected to the internet and avoid human interaction altogether. One thing I’ve learnt is that one way or another, some kind of news will find you. And when it does, the effect varies from person to person.

That happened with the Oyo school abduction.

Like I said, I was numb for a week.

I asked myself: Why? Why abduct children as young as two?

Who? Who are the monsters capable of this?

How? How did we get here as a nation?

What? What is the reason for all of this?

When? When do we finally say enough is enough?

Where? As a people, where do we even go from here?

The 5 Ws and H—the basic questions we use in my line of work—wouldn’t leave my head.

And as they lingered, I started to feel something close to survivor’s guilt.

Survivor’s guilt happens when someone feels guilty for surviving a tragic, traumatic, or near-death event while others did not. It’s a psychological response often tied to disasters like plane crashes, mass shootings, acts of terrorism, or natural disasters. There are many causes, but this is the one that feels closest to what this situation has stirred in me.

As I kept thinking about it, some of the things I usually did just didn’t feel right anymore.

I paused something I started this year called The Little Things; where I share moments from nature, memories, or random videos online that remind me of how mindful we should be about the things we often take for granted.

Learning to See Again

I couldn’t do it.

I didn’t have the strength.

Following the incident, I even became more careful with how I talked about the weather. I told myself it would feel tone-deaf to say things like, “Oh, the rain did good today,” when there are innocent lives somewhere in the forests, surrounded by evil-minded people with no sense of remorse.

Some days, I post about the abduction on my WhatsApp status. Every day, I pray.

Some days, I talk to friends, and we rant about what has become. How tone-deaf and self-absorbed our leaders seem to be. How, as a people, maybe we are not doing enough. How we should be on the streets demanding answers.

But then we ask again: who will go first?

And I pause.

And I pray again.

And when I feel my faith wavering, I remind myself that this is one thing we cannot afford to lose.

Yes, believers have often been tagged as people who are only proactive in prayer—that all we do is pray.

But if this is what we have right now, then let us pray.

Pray that the Lord delivers this nation like He delivered the Israelites from Egypt. Pray that He judges the enemies of this nation like He judged Pharaoh and his army at the Red Sea (Exodus 14). Pray that He raises men like Joseph and Daniel to stand at the helm of affairs in this nation. Pray that He raises judges like Deborah—leaders of courage, wisdom, and conviction.

I believe that is still a step in the right direction.

The one thing we will not do is let go.

It has been over 30 days of these innocent victims in the hands of wicked abductors and there are so many more in other parts of Nigeria.

As I lie on my bed at night and rise in the morning, I remember.

And I pray.

I may not have the strength at this point to keep posting about it on my WhatsApp status, but we owe it to them—to hold on to faith and keep praying for their safe return.

And then again, I wonder…

If I, a random person, feel this deeply about this situation, how exactly are the families and loved ones of these victims carrying this weight?

These have been my thoughts for a while now, and I thought to share them with you.

How have you been?

Till next time…

Ok bye.