The Silent Slaughter of Christians in Yelwata: A Massacre Ignored, By James Reed
On the night of June 13, 2025, as heavy rain fell over Yelwata, a small farming village in Nigeria's Benue State, terror descended. Over 40 Fulani jihadists, armed with guns and machetes, stormed the community, shouting "Allahu Akbar" as they set homes ablaze and slaughtered over 200 people, mostly women, children, and displaced families seeking refuge. Yelwata, 98% Christian and a haven for internally displaced persons (IDPs) fleeing prior attacks, became a killing field. Entire families were burned alive, bodies left scattered in bushes, some charred beyond recognition. Yet, the world's media barely whispered about it. This isn't just a tragedy, it's a stark reminder of whose lives are deemed worthy of attention and whose are left in the shadows.
Yelwata, just 7 km from Benue's capital, Makurdi, was a quiet farming village, 97% Catholic, where displaced families thought they'd found safety. On June 13, attackers from neighbouring Nasarawa State surrounded the village in a coordinated assault, targeting the market square where over 500 IDPs slept in repurposed buildings. Witnesses described militants dousing structures with gasoline, locking families inside, and setting them ablaze. "A man, his two wives, and all their children were burned alive," said Matthew Mnyam, a local leader. Lucy Tsegba lost nine family members, including her mother, sisters, and grandmother. The Catholic Diocese of Makurdi's Justice, Peace and Development Foundation (JPDF) reported over 150 bodies recovered, with the toll likely exceeding 200 as more were found in farmlands.
The attackers, identified as Fulani jihadists by local clergy and residents, struck with chilling precision. "There is no question about who carried out the attack," said Rev. Ukuma Jonathan Angbianbee. "They were definitely Fulanis." They hit under cover of rain, exploiting a diversion that lured local vigilantes away. Police repelled an initial assault on St. Joseph's Church, sheltering 700 IDPs, but couldn't stop the market square massacre. The village's water sources were contaminated, food supplies destroyed, and survivors left traumatised, with no immediate access to medical care.
This wasn't an isolated incident. Nigeria's Middle Belt, where Christian farmers meet Muslim herders, is a tinderbox of ethnic and religious tension. Since 2000, over 62,000 Christians have been killed by jihadist groups like Boko Haram, ISWAP, and Fulani militias, with 2023 alone seeing 8,000 deaths. Yelwata follows attacks in Gwer West (43 killed) and other Benue villages, part of what Bishop Wilfred Anagbe calls a "jihadist war" to displace Christians and seize land. Local leaders like Rev. Remigius Ihyula argue this is no mere herder-farmer clash but a deliberate campaign to "Islamise" the region, fuelled by an extremist ideology.
The Nigerian government's response has been woefully inadequate. Security forces, stationed nearby, failed to intervene effectively during the two-hour onslaught. Fr. Moses Aondover Iorapuu called it "barbaric," noting the government's inaction despite warnings from Bishop Anagbe's U.S. testimony in 2024, which incited further violence. President Bola Tinubu condemned the attack, but survivors and groups like Amnesty International decry the impunity, with attackers finding safe havens across state borders. The arrest of suspects on June 22 offers little solace when systemic failures persist.
Why has Yelwata's horror been met with a shrug? Posts on X highlight the outrage: "Islamists massacred over 200 people in Yelwata, Nigeria—many of them women and children. The media barely mentioned it," wrote The Free Press. Another user noted, "You won't see this in mainstream media," listing victims Hawkins of victims. International outlets like Amnesty and Catholic Herald reported the massacre, but major Western networks, dominated by other global stories, gave it scant coverage.
This silence isn't new. A 2024 report called Nigeria's Christian killings a "silent genocide," ignored due to political sensitivities or bias toward flashier stories. Nigeria's 46% Christian population faces daily violence, yet the world's focus often drifts elsewhere. The lack of coverage isolates victims like Yelwata's survivors, who face not just loss but erasure from global consciousness.
Behind the numbers are lives like Lucy Tsegba's, shattered by unimaginable loss. Yelwata's survivors, many now displaced again to Daudu and Abagena, live in fear, with contaminated water and no food or medical aid. "The survivors are terrified; they have suffered unspeakable violence," said Fr. Remigius Ihyula. The attack targeted the most vulnerable: IDPs who'd already fled violence, children burned alive, families wiped out.
Yelwata demands more than prayers. Pope Leo XIV, speaking at the Angelus, prayed for "security, justice, and peace" for Benue's Christians, but words alone don't stop machetes. Groups like USCIRF and Family Research Council urge the U.S. to redesignate Nigeria as a Country of Particular Concern for religious freedom violations. Local leaders call for international pressure to end impunity and protect Christian farmers. Without action, Yelwata is just another tally in a genocide that's claimed 150,000 lives since 2009.
In conclusion, the Yelwata massacre is a wound on Nigeria's soul, exposing the brutality of jihadist violence and the world's selective attention. These were quiet lives, farmers, mothers, children, seeking only to survive. Their slaughter deserves outrage, not indifference.
Comments