Must we reward terror with land?

BY OLU ALLEN

Let me first salute the president, not out of ceremony, but in rare acknowledgement of empathy: he cleared his schedule and journeyed to Benue after terrorists claimed the lives of over 200 Nigerian citizens. In a nation where leadership is often defined by indifference, that visit was not lost on us. He came. He listened. He looked. He answered the urgent call of conscience echoed by citizens across the country.

But my people, I must say this — we needed more than that.

A visit to the hospital, noble as it is, only grazes the surface of grief. Where was the march through the fields where lives were cut down like weeds? Where was the walk through the very soil that drank the blood of our brothers and sisters? If his aides could brave the so-called floods and bad roads to visit the actual massacre site, then what held back the Commander-in-Chief?

Presidential presence must never be reduced to optics — it must carry the weight of purpose.

But what troubles me, even more than the absence at the killing field, is what followed: the president’s call for Benue to provide land for ranching. In that moment, I froze. My pen dropped. My heart thudded. Because what I heard wasn’t just a policy suggestion, it sounded like the legitimisation of conquest.

Whose Land? The Federal Push vs Benue’s Resistance

Let us be clear: for years now, Nigerians, especially in the Middle Belt, have cried out about a grand design of land grabbing through terror. Entire communities have been wiped out, not for cattle rustling or farmer-herder misunderstandings, but for the sheer goal of displacing people from ancestral lands.

Now, the federal government insists on ranching as the solution, even earmarking 500 hectares in Benue for livestock development. But here’s what they won’t tell you: Benue has denied ceding any land. The state government claims the project is for fodder production, not open grazing, yet the optics remain damning. When terrorists kill 200 people and the state’s first public policy response is to discuss land allocation, whose land? Are we not setting a dangerous precedent?

Are we not, knowingly or not, teaching the terrorists that mass murder gets results?

Justice Before Ranching: The Unlearned Lessons of Plateau & Borno

This is why I disagree—firmly, respectfully, and unapologetically.

You do not reward a massacre with real estate. You do not give a blood-soaked olive branch to those who have burnt yam barns, desecrated ancestral groves, and shattered homes. You crush them. You pursue them through the forests, across rivers, into caves, and bring them to justice. You make it clear that no one can kill their way into land ownership in the Federal Republic of Nigeria.

I understand the need for ranching. I support agricultural innovation. But let it not be borne out of the ashes of genocide. Let it not be done in a way that emboldens the enemy and insults the memory of the fallen.

Think deeply, my people:

Would we have asked Plateau to give land after Dogo Nahawa?

Would we have asked Southern Kaduna to concede land after Adara villages were razed?

If Boko Haram attacked Maiduguri and killed 300, would we respond by offering them a rehabilitation centre near the Shehu’s palace?

No. Because even in our mercy, there must be a principle.

The Alternative: Security, Sovereignty, and Self-Defence

This is not about ethnicity. It is not about tribe or tongue. It is about sovereignty, justice, and the soul of a nation. If we keep rewarding aggression with accommodation, then tomorrow, more towns will burn, more mothers will wail, and more children will grow up in IDP camps calling gunmen landlords.

Our ancestors did not defend their farmlands with cutlasses only to have their grandchildren concede them with handshakes.

Benue knows this. The state has budgeted N46.9 billion for security in 2025, arming vigilantes because the federal government has failed to protect them. Meanwhile, the same government pushing ranching has not prosecuted a single perpetrator of the massacres in Agatu, Guma, or Logo.

We must stand firm. Our president must be advised better. Let the presidency lead with justice, not appeasement. Let our people feel that the soil of this nation still belongs to them, not to the barrel of an AK-47.

History Is Watching

We can build ranches—but not on blood.
We can seek peace—but not through surrender.
We can honour the dead—but not by ceding the land they died defending.

Nigeria must not bargain with terror. We must defeat it.

Olu Allen is a writer and educator based in Kano. He writes on public affairs, nationhood, and social justice.