170 Nigerians Butchered in Kwara, Dozens of Women Kidnapped Days Later – As Nigeria Drowns in Blood while it’s Elite Campaigns for 2027 and leaves the People to die 

170 Nigerians Butchered in Kwara, Dozens of Women Kidnapped Days Later – As Nigeria Drowns in Blood while it’s Elite Campaigns for 2027 and leaves the People to die 

Nigeria is bleeding in plain sight, and the nation is choosing to look away.

Barely days after reports emerged of a mass killing in Kwara State that left scores of citizens dead — with community leaders and survivors placing the toll as high as 170 — fresh images surfaced from the Northwest showing elderly women abducted by armed men and held in the bush like trophies of war. The sequence is as horrifying as it is familiar: massacre, burial, silence; kidnapping, ransom, silence. And then the cycle repeats, uninterrupted, unpunished, normalized.

The video circulating now is short, unfiltered, and devastating. Three elderly women sit on bare ground, surrounded by armed captors, their bodies slumped, their faces hollowed by fear and exhaustion. They are among dozens seized in a new wave of abductions across the Northwest, a region that has effectively become a permanent hunting ground for bandits and jihadist factions. Hundreds remain in captivity from previous raids. Many will never return. Some will be raped, forced into labor, or killed quietly in the forest when ransoms fail or families run out of money.

This is happening now. Not years ago. Not under a different administration. Now.

Just four days earlier, Kwara State was thrust into national mourning after armed attackers descended on rural communities, killing men, women, and children in coordinated assaults. Survivors described families executed, homes burned, people hunted as they fled. The exact death toll remains contested — official figures are often conservative, community counts often higher — but what is not in dispute is the scale of the slaughter. Entire villages were shattered. Mass graves were dug. Dozens of wounded are still struggling in under-resourced hospitals. And then, almost immediately, the country moved on.

There was no national address. No emergency security declaration. No sweeping arrests. No decisive show of force. Instead, there were statements. Condolences. Assurances. And then the oxygen returned to what truly consumes Nigeria’s ruling class: 2027.

While Nigerians are buried in batches, the political class is already in campaign mode. Power blocs are forming. Godfathers are measuring influence. Media surrogates are fighting proxy wars. Every week brings new drama about who will run, who will inherit which structure, which alliance will dominate the next cycle. The blood on the ground is treated as background noise — tragic, yes, but inconvenient.

This is not a failure of information. The facts are everywhere. It is a failure of priority.

Nigeria today has entire regions where the state has collapsed in all but name. Armed groups move freely across forests stretching from the Northwest through the North-Central belt and into the Northeast. They collect taxes, impose curfews, abduct at will, and kill with impunity. Villagers know the routes. Communities know the camps. Victims know the phone numbers used for ransom negotiations. Yet the state — with its military, air force, police, intelligence agencies, and billions in security votes — remains largely reactive, fragmented, and slow.

The result is a country where elderly women are kidnapped in daylight, where farmers abandon their land, where children grow up knowing the sound of gunfire better than the promise of school, and where survival depends less on citizenship than on luck.

And still, the national obsession remains politics.

The question posed by Dr. Ibrahim Zubairu — “Are we going to continue deteriorating like this as a nation?” — is not rhetorical. It is the defining question of this moment. Because deterioration is no longer gradual; it is accelerating. What was once shocking is now routine. What once triggered outrage now barely trends. The human capacity for horror has been exhausted — and that exhaustion is killing people.

This is not governance. It is abandonment.

A state that cannot secure its citizens but can organize endless political rallies has lost its moral authority. A leadership that commissions projects while mass graves are being filled has forfeited its claim to seriousness. A society that debates 2027 while women sit in forests at gunpoint has made a choice — even if it refuses to admit it.

The women in that video are not waiting for the next election cycle. The families burying their dead in Kwara are not waiting for party primaries. They are waiting for rescue, for protection, for a state that remembers why it exists.

Nigeria does not lack solutions. It lacks urgency. It lacks accountability. It lacks leaders willing to put security above ambition and human life above power calculations.

Until that changes, the killings will continue. The kidnappings will spread. The videos will keep coming. And the nation will keep asking the same question, over and over, as the body count rises.

Are we going to continue like this?

If the answer remains silence, then history will record this period not just as a time of insecurity, but as an era of collective failure — when a nation chose politics over people, and paid for it in blood.