By Solomon Dalung
Bishop Matthew Hassan Kukah built his public reputation on fearless criticism of government failure, especially during the administration of former President Muhammadu Buhari. He consistently accused Buhari of presiding over what he described as a genocidal campaign against Christians in Southern Kaduna. In local and international platforms, he condemned the administration for its inability to protect lives and property. His voice was loud, his indignation unapologetic, and his advocacy resonated deeply, particularly among Christian communities who felt abandoned by the state. On this score, he was not wrong: the killings and targeted attacks demanded urgent global attention.
However, my disagreement with Bishop Kukah lies not in his call for justice, but in the selective moral lens through which he viewed the tragedy. While Christians undoubtedly suffered horrific violence, they were not the only victims. Muslims, farmers, herders, women, children, travellers, and entire communities across Nigeria were slaughtered by Islamist jihadists, bandits, militant herders, ISWAP, IPOB militants, and kidnappers. Genocide, if honestly confronted, must be acknowledged wherever it manifests, not restricted to the boundaries of faith or ethnic identity. The Bishop’s advocacy, noble as it appeared, was narrowed by a sectarian frame that ignored the blood of other innocent Nigerians spilled on the same soil.
Then came the controversial 2023 elections and the emergence of Bola Ahmed Tinubu through what many Nigerians regarded as a compromised and discredited process. Suddenly, the once fiery critic transformed into a preacher of political accommodation. Bishop Kukah who previously rejected injustice in any form now preached the gospel of “no perfect election anywhere in the world.” Nigerians questioned the legitimacy of the election, yet he urged them to accept the outcome uncritically. He defended economic hardship, rationalized insecurity, and counselled patience with reforms that have plunged millions into unprecedented suffering. The moral consistency that once defined his public engagements appeared to evaporate.
This metamorphosis became more pronounced after Tinubu appointed him Chancellor of a newly established federal university in Southern Kaduna. The symbolism was unmistakable. A priest who once challenged the political order now began to echo the talking points of power. Like Peter who denied Christ three times before the cock crowed, Bishop Kukah seems to have denied every principled position he once held. The advocate who once warned the world about looming Christian genocide now dismisses or minimizes the same horrors under a new regime.
What shocked many Nigerians was his recent rhetorical contortion in redefining genocide itself. Bishop Kukah argued that even if one million people were killed, it still does not qualify as genocide, an assertion not only intellectually untenable but morally disturbing. That such a statement could come from a Catholic priest, one who once relied on the moral authority of the pulpit to indict the state, raises the troubling question: What changed? The Scriptures warn that the love of money is the root of all evil; today, Nigerians are left wondering whether political favour, privilege, or personal benefit has compromised the once courageous conscience of the Bishop.
The reality is stark: there is genocide in Nigeria, against Christians, Muslims, and countless communities. People are being abducted, massacred, displaced, and erased from their ancestral homelands. Entire villages have vanished. The government remains complacent, evasive, or completely complicit. To deny these realities is not only irresponsible but dangerous. Anyone who downplays or defends this ongoing slaughter, whether cleric, politician, intellectual, or public figure, must answer whether they are acting as an enabler, a sponsor, or a beneficiary of terror.
Nigeria stands today on a precipice. Tinubu has systematically captured institutions, political, judicial, economic and religion appears to be the last frontier under assault. If religious leaders who once spoke truth to power have now joined the chorus of political appeasement, then the nation is truly in peril. Nigerians must reclaim their voice and assert their right to seek help wherever necessary when the government fails in its most sacred duty: the protection of life. If we remain silent, Nigeria may collapse on our heads. And history will remember those who chose comfort over conscience.
Solomon Dalung, LLM,LLB,LB
Igbarman Otarok & Garkuwa Arewa
Voice of the Silent Majority
igbarman@gmail.com
