Twisting The Truth: How Akpabio's Narrative Mask The Real Terror Facing Nigerian Christians

 Twisting The Truth: How Akpabio's Narrative Mask The Real Terror Facing Nigerian Christians When Senate President Godswill Akpabio rece...

 Twisting The Truth: How Akpabio's Narrative Mask The Real Terror Facing Nigerian Christians

When Senate President Godswill Akpabio recently broadened the label of “terrorism” to include the Indigenous People of Biafra (IPOB),  it helped many Nigerians the political elites desperation to shift attention away from the country’s most urgent security truth, which is that thousands of Christians—pastors, farmers, and villagers have been killed in a wave of extremist violence that government voices too often describe with vague words like “banditry” or “communal clashes.”

The contrast between what international observers are discussing in Washington and what Nigerian leaders are willing to admit at home could not be starker. In the United States Congress and in European parliaments, lawmakers have cited reports from Open Doors, Amnesty International, and Christian Solidarity Worldwide documenting that Nigeria accounts for more than 80 percent of Christians killed for their faith worldwide in recent years. These reports trace the atrocities mainly to armed groups operating under Islamist banners—Boko Haram, the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP), and splintered militias among some herder networks in the Middle Belt.

In Nigeria, however, political rhetoric often dilutes that reality. Successive administrations have preferred neutral labels: “bandits,” “unknown gunmen,” or “criminal elements.” Officials argue that the conflicts are economic or ethnic, not religious. Critics say such framing may calm diplomatic tensions but obscures the ideological roots of many attacks—particularly in states such as Benue, Plateau, and southern Kaduna, where targeted church burnings and forced displacements follow a recognisable pattern.

The Observatory for Religious Freedom in Africa estimates that more than 16,000 Christian civilians were killed between 2019 and 2023. Open Doors lists almost 5,000 deaths in 2023 alone. Pastors have been kidnapped from pulpits, students taken from seminaries, and entire villages emptied. Even when Muslims and traditional believers are also victims of insecurity, the scale of anti-Christian violence remains distinct and heavily documented.

Yet, inside Nigeria’s political space, that crisis rarely gets sustained acknowledgement. Instead, attention has drifted against a globally acknowledged peaceful agitation in the Southeast, where the federal government of Nigeria proscribed IPOB as a terrorist organisation in 2017. The group’s legal team insists it has never sanctioned violence, and no court has produced public evidence directly linking its leadership to killings. Many residents of the region attribute most attacks there to criminal syndicates and political enforcers who exploit the chaos. Several rights groups have echoed those claims, warning that genuine dissent is being conflated with crime.

By folding IPOB into the same conversation as Boko Haram or ISWAP, Akpabio and other officials appear to seek moral equivalence: if every unrest is “terrorism,” then none requires special accountability. But such equivalence erases distinctions that matter. The Islamist insurgencies of the North are ideologically driven and openly anti-Christian; the unrest in the Southeast is primarily political, fuelled by resentment over marginalisation and unfulfilled federal promises. Treating both as identical may serve short-term political expedience, yet it muddies the security map and confuses both domestic and international partners.

Security analysts note that the government’s selective application of the terrorism label has bred mistrust. Fulani militias responsible for rural massacres are rarely designated terrorists, even when their operations mirror the tactics of proscribed groups. IPOB, by contrast, faces sweeping restrictions that extend even to peaceful supporters and journalists covering Biafra-related issues. The result is a perception that the law is being used not to stop violence but to silence uncomfortable narratives.

Why the reluctance to name the persecutors plainly? Insiders cite several motives.

Acknowledging a religious motive could inflame sectarian divisions or invite foreign scrutiny of Nigeria’s failure to protect minorities. It could also unsettle political alliances across the North–South divide. But avoidance has a cost. When leaders generalise, victims feel invisible and the public loses trust. Silence becomes complicity.

For the Southeast, meanwhile, the indiscriminate branding of IPOB supporters as terrorists deepens alienation. It conflates peaceful self-determination advocacy with violent insurgency. Mazi Nnamdi Kanu’s detention, despite multiple court rulings questioning procedure, feeds the perception that the region’s grievances are being criminalised rather than addressed.

Nigeria’s fight against terror requires precision, not politics. Extremists who raid churches or slaughter farmers in the name of religion should be identified as what they are—religiously motivated attackers—without fear of offending any community. At the same time, the state must differentiate between peaceful agitation and armed rebellion; between criminals exploiting chaos and citizens expressing dissent. Blanket labels make intelligence work harder, justice weaker, and reconciliation impossible.

The international community is already watching. Congressional hearings in Washington this year questioned why Nigerian authorities hesitate to confront the religious dimension of the killings. Human-rights organisations have urged Abuja to release accurate data and prosecute perpetrators, regardless of creed. Denial only delays those reforms.

If Akpabio and other senior officials wish to defend Nigeria’s image, the surest way is through transparency. Admit where the violence is religiously motivated. Investigate the ideological networks behind it. Protect every community without bias. Recognise that Christians in large parts of the country are living under siege. And stop equating peaceful political agitation with terrorism.

Living condition in Nigeria can only be bettered by rewriting reality. It will change for good, only when the government names each threat honestly and protects every citizen equally. Until then, the twisting of truth will remain another wound on a nation already bleeding from too many unacknowledged wars.

Family Writers Press International