This morning, I write as a Barrack Woman with a heart soaked in agony.
A pain that shakes the bones. A pain that only those who live inside the barracks can understand.
A whole Brigadier General, captured and killed by ISWAP, and instead of people crying with the family, instead of Nigerians feeling the pain of a woman whose entire world just collapsed, they are arguing about tribe and religion.
Is this what we have become?
A country where humanity has died, and wickedness breathes freely?
As a soldier’s wife, this news cut deep into my soul.
In the barracks, when soldiers are killed in ambush, the silence is terrifying. Women sit outside with swollen eyes.
Children ask questions their mothers cannot answer.
Soldiers walk around with heavy hearts, pretending not to fear death, pretending not to feel the sorrow.
We, the Barrack Women, carry a sorrow that no outsider can measure.
Our men are being used like sacrificial lambs. Sent into battlefields created by wicked leaders and their evil advisers.
We watch widows multiply every month.
We see fatherless children growing with questions that have no answers.
Ambulance sirens have become normal, yet every time we hear it, our hearts break all over again.
For how long will our gallant men fall like ordinary animals?
For how long will we remain silent?
For how long will our leaders sleep peacefully while families drown in tears?
Don’t tell us “they are fighting for the nation.” If our leaders wanted this insurgency to end, they know the solution. They know what to do.
They know where to strike.
They know who is aiding these beasts.
But they keep quiet and silence is an agreement.
So today, as a Barrack Woman in tears, I lift my voice to the God who answers fire with fire.
Whoever is behind this bloodshed, Whoever benefits from it, Whoever sits in secret meetings to prolong this evil, Whoever supplies information, weapons, protection, or encouragement to these demons, Whoever smiles while families cry…
May the God of justice visit them.
May their secret places be exposed.
May their wickedness return to their own heads.
May their laughter turn to sorrow.
May their hands never know peace.
May their generation feel the weight of the innocent blood they have spilled.
May the cries of widows and fatherless children rise as a witness against them.
Any man or woman who watches this evil and supports it , openly or secretly…
May the earth fight them.
May heaven resist them.
May their protection fail when they need it most.
May the same sorrow they sponsor return to their doorstep.
And for every Barrack Woman crying silently at night, For every child waiting for a father who may never return, For every soldier standing between life and death…
Dear Lord, arise.
Fight for us.
Shield our men.
And let Your judgment sweep through every hand behind this wickedness.
We are tired.
We are hurting.
We are bleeding.
But we will not stop praying.
Because the God of justice never fails.
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