A LOT of people may not like what I’m about to say, but I can no longer swallow the truth just to keep the peace. Because silence has started to taste like guilt. I don’t intend disrespect, but the truth deserves its own voice, and today, while I mean no disrespect to anyone, I will call a spade a spade.
There is a special kind of insecurity eating deep into this country, and it is not only the bandits in the forests. It is the chief violator of our rights in office, the ones who fear words more than bullets, who tremble more at a teenager’s truth than at the men terrorising their own people.
In Sokoto State, an 18-year-old girl, Hamdiyya Sidi Shariff, committed what seems to be the greatest crime of all; she spoke the truth plainly.
She cried out about the banditry, the killings, the rapes, the displaced families, the horror that has turned entire communities into graveyards of hope. She asked the government to wake up! imagine the audacity.
And for that, she was threatened, humiliated, arrested and now jailed- allegedly. Because in Sokoto today, it appears that being a bandit is safer than being a truth-teller. Yup! that’s it.
A young girl spoke out about insecurity… and somehow she became the security threat. Not the killers, Not the abductors, Not the rapists and Not the criminals who rule the forests. The “real danger,” according to some powerful men, was a girl with a phone and a conscience.
Videos circulated months ago claiming she was free, living her life, even working at the Berkete family, Many of us believed it, We allowed ourselves to hope.
Now fresh reports show the situation is far from resolved. The case is still ongoing. The silence around her is still worrying. The truth of her condition is buried under a pile of secrecy and secrecy has never been the companion of justice.
But what do we expect in a country where speaking up requires bravery, and governing requires thin skin? Where saying “enough is enough” gets you dragged to court, but killing someone gets you a press release?
Where a governor cannot stomach criticism, yet expects citizens to swallow insecurity, fear, and trauma without complaint? Where leaders want praise but refuse performance? Where they treat their own failures with silence, and treat young voices like national threats?
What exactly is Hamdiyya’s unforgivable offence? Is it that she spoke too loudly? Or that she revealed too much truth? Or that she reminded them of the responsibilities they have abandoned?
Because this is what it looks like, if you expose insecurity, insecurity will come for you. Not from the forests but from the rogue elements.
And the government wonders why the people have lost trust. They wonder why youths are silent. They wonder why Nigeria is bleeding from every corner.
Maybe, just maybe it’s because when citizens speak, the government responds with handcuffs instead of solutions.
Maybe it’s because the state has mastered the art of intimidating voices instead of intimidating bandits.
Maybe it’s because every time a citizen speaks a painful truth, the government hears an insult.
And every time a bandit commits an atrocity, the government hears… nothing. Oh sorry, actually they hear something, forgive me for saying they hear nothing, it’s just a matter of state pardon and rehabilitation.
We all remember Dadiyata, a lecturer and outspoken critic, who vanished one night in Kaduna in 2019, whisked away along with his car by masked men. Six years on, nothing. No trace. His family still waits, haunted by silence. His disappearance is emblematic of a nation that whispers “speak no truth.”
And the young student at FUD, Aminu Adamu Muhammad, who dared to question the then First Lady? He was arrested, spirited away from campus, Allegedly beaten, charged for simply tweeting his frustration. The law eventually relented under pressure and dropped the charges but the message was already sent: speak freely, and you risk more than punishment.
The journalists have watched their colleagues disappear, be dragged from their homes, silenced, punished. Fear now walks with them into every assignment. When they remember the likes of Daniel Ojukwu who was detained after exposing corruption; Segun Olatunji who was taken from his home by men who claimed to be security agents; and others like Babatunde AbdulRazaq, Luqman Bolakale, and Saint Onitsha have all tasted the state’s heavy hand for daring to question power. Different names, different years but the same message echoes through them all: in this country, speaking the truth has become a dangerous act.
This is the Nigeria we live in: A country where freedom of speech is technically allowed as long as you don’t use it. A state where the constitution says “you have the right to speak,” but the authorities whisper “at your own risk.” A society where young people are told to be leaders of tomorrow, but are punished today for daring to lead with courage.
Let’s call it what it is.
If the persecution of Hamdiyya continues, if the silencing of truth-speakers becomes routine, then we are grooming a nation where the government itself becomes the chief offender stealing voices, stealing freedom, stealing hope.
And when the state becomes the architect of our fear, who will save us? Because bullets kill bodies, but oppression kills nations.
At such a moment, Sokoto should not be defensive, it should be quietly ashamed, Nigeria should be alarmed. And we the citizens must refuse to be quiet. We must refuse to let this story disappear. We must demand justice, transparency, and accountability.
Hamdiyya’s voice must not be another casualty of Nigeria’s insecurity. Her courage must not be punished while cowardice governs. Her truth must not be buried while lies hold microphones. If speaking becomes a crime, then silence becomes our grave.
And I refuse to bury my voice.
Voice, just cleared its throat!
- Kabara is a writer and public commentator. Her syndicated column, Voice, appears in News Point Nigeria newspaper on Monday. She can be reached at hafceekay01@gmail.com.