Yelewata Donations Mismanagement Worse Than Zaki-Biam’s ₦42 Billion

Yelewata Donations Mismanagement Worse Than Zaki-Biam’s ₦42 Billion

Spread the love

*A Call for Transparency and Accountability

*In Memory of Late Alexander Gaadi

By Morgan Adikwu

Over seven weeks after the Yelewata Professionals called on Governor Hyacinth Alia to ensure transparency in the use of over ₦4 billion donated for the rehabilitation of the Yelewata massacre victims, silence still reigns. Their open letter, though poignant, has met the same cold indifference that once greeted the struggle of the late Alexander Gaadi, who led the Benue Movement for the victims of the 2001 Zaki-Biam massacre. By drawing this parallel, one sees how the ghosts of Benue’s tragedies keep returning, each met with compassion from the World but betrayal at home.

The horror of Yelewata remains fresh; over 250 persons murdered, homes incinerated, markets destroyed, families scattered. Yet the compassion that followed, over ₦4 billion in public, private, and international donations, was an unprecedented expression of solidarity, a humanitarian Marshall Plan in miniature.

Like post-war Europe, this could have been Benue’s moment of rebirth, funding reconstruction, trauma care, and security surveillance systems with drones and electronic boundaries to forestall further bloodshed. But the state’s silence betrays a deeper crisis, the habitual mismanagement that turns compassion into currency.

This is not the first time Benue has stood at such a crossroad. When the Federal High Court in 2007 awarded ₦41.8 billion to the victims of the Zaki-Biam massacre, the state had the rare opportunity to heal old wounds. Yet political fear consumed justice. The then Benue government allegedly opposed releasing the funds through the Benue Movement led by Gaadi, fearing that the activist would gain too much influence.

To dispel suspicion, the late Gaadi constituted a committee of retired generals and eminent citizens to manage the funds for compensation, rehabilitation, and community reconstruction, but even that patriotic compromise was sabotaged. The case was dragged, renegotiated, and finally buried after his death.

Contrast this with Bayelsa’s Odi experience. After the 1999 military invasion that levelled the Ijaw town, the Federal High Court awarded ₦37.6 billion to the victims. Though the government later renegotiated, Bayelsa received ₦15 billion in 2014 under President Goodluck Jonathan. The compensation helped rebuild lives, restore dignity, and erect public institutions that stand today as proof of justice delivered. Bayelsa acted where Benue hesitated; the result is a tale of two tragedies, one repaired, the other perpetuated.

Imagine what ₦42 billion could have done for Benue; rebuilding Zaki-Biam, electrifying rural communities, establishing trauma and vocational centres, constructing border surveillance systems to guard against external attacks, and providing social security for displaced citizens. Such resources could have reversed years of neglect and fortified the state against the very invasions that now plague Yelewata.

Yet, as Walter Rodney argued in How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, exploitation persists not by lack of wealth but by its deliberate misallocation. In Benue, tragedy funds have become political spoils, and sympathy is harvested as capital.

Governor Alia, therefore, stands before history with a moral choice. To repeat the errors of Zaki-Biam is to betray both the living and the dead. Transparency and accountability are not favours owed but obligations of governance.

The over ₦4 billion donated for Yelewata must be publicly audited and deployed for tangible reconstruction, housing, schools, trauma centres, and modern security infrastructure. Anything less would affirm the cynical prophecy that even in Benue, the little of the poor shall be taken to add to the rich, echoing the moral of Matthew 25:29.

The moral test of power lies not in words but in stewardship. If the Yelewata donations vanish into bureaucratic fog, it will confirm that Benue has learned nothing from its history, that from Zaki-Biam to Yelewata, compassion always dies at the altar of politics. But if Alia chooses accountability, he may yet redeem the soul of a state long wounded by its own leaders.

Benue must not become a land where tragedy is permanent and justice a rumour. The time to act with courage and conscience is now.