There is an old saying that one does not decorate a leaking roof while the house is on fire. Sadly, that appears to be the picture Benue State presented to the nation as it marked its 50th anniversary with pomp and pageantry, despite the enormous challenges confronting its people.
The event was grand. President Bola Ahmed Tinubu was represented by his Chief of Staff, Rt. Hon. Femi Gbajabiamila. The Ooni of Ife, His Imperial Majesty, Oba Adeyeye Enitan Ogunwusi, Ojaja II; state governors, ministers, traditional rulers, and other distinguished Nigerians converged on Makurdi to honour the occasion. The speeches were inspiring. The photographs were beautiful. The atmosphere was festive.
But outside the banquet halls and ceremonial grounds lies a different Benue, a state bleeding from insecurity, weighed down by poverty, and desperately searching for purposeful leadership.
Anniversaries are not celebrated merely because a state has existed for fifty years. They are celebrated because there are milestones worth showcasing.
Golden jubilees are opportunities to unveil legacy projects, commission transformative infrastructure, celebrate economic growth, and reassure citizens that the future is brighter than the past.
For many Benue people, that opportunity was missed.
The unavoidable question remains: What exactly did Governor Hyacinth Alia ask the nation to celebrate?
Were visitors invited to commission world-class hospitals? No.
Did they commission industrial clusters capable of creating thousands of jobs? No.
Were they taken to inspect modern agricultural processing facilities that would justify Benue’s acclaimed status as Nigeria’s Food Basket? No.
Did they witness massive road infrastructure connecting rural communities to markets? Again, no.
Instead, visitors were treated to ceremonies while many communities continued to bury their loved ones.
With due respect, it was a cocktail of propaganda and political theatre
Nothing exposes the contradiction more than the state of security.
Benue has become one of Nigeria’s most vulnerable states to recurring attacks by armed groups. Communities have been displaced. Villages have been deserted. Thousands remain in internally displaced persons’ camps. Farmers, the very backbone of Benue’s economy, can hardly cultivate their ancestral lands without fear.
What, then, is the meaning of celebrating the Food Basket of the Nation when farmers can no longer safely access their farms? Is it merely for the fun of celebrating an empty and torn basket?
A hungry farmer cannot celebrate.
A displaced widow cannot celebrate.
An orphan produced by violence cannot celebrate.
Entire communities living under constant fear cannot celebrate.
Development is not measured by press conferences or social media propaganda. It is measured by the quality of life of the ordinary citizen. It is measured by whether children attend school safely, whether hospitals function, whether roads are motorable, and whether investors have confidence in the economy.
By these standards, many citizens believe Benue deserves far better.
Equally troubling is what many perceive as the systematic exclusion of the Idoma people from the mainstream of governance. Across appointments and political patronage, many stakeholders argue that the principle of equity has suffered serious setbacks under the current administration. Whether this perception is entirely accurate or not, it has become too widespread to dismiss lightly.
Unity cannot flourish where significant sections of the population feel neglected.
Leadership must not only be impartial; it must also inspire confidence that every ethnic group has a meaningful place in government.
Beyond governance, the administration has also become associated with seemingly endless political confrontations. Rather than consolidating the coalition that brought him to power, Governor Alia has found himself in prolonged political disagreements with influential figures within his own party, including the Secretary to the Government of the Federation, Senator George Akume, the Benue APC leadership, and several elected lawmakers.
Political disagreement is normal in any democracy. However, governance suffers when political battles become the defining feature of an administration.
The people did not elect a governor to wage perpetual political wars. They elected a governor to secure communities, grow the economy, create opportunities, and unite the state.
When political battles appear to overshadow governance, the people become the ultimate losers.
Citizens are now more interested in who wins internal power struggles than in whether roads are constructed, schools function, hospitals are equipped, jobs are created, and communities are secured.
Leadership is measured by results, not rhetoric.
So, when fighting and intra-party rivalry become the major achievements of a government, the people end up celebrating who secures which ticket through a rancorous, crisis-ridden selection process rather than celebrating monumental projects befitting a state that is 50 years old.
As a state at fifty, Benue deserves sober reflection on its current condition rather than self-congratulation.
The state’s greatest monument is not the colourful anniversary logo or the impressive list of guests. Its true monument should be peaceful communities, thriving farms, functioning schools, modern hospitals, expanding industries, and citizens who genuinely believe tomorrow will be better than today.
Those are the achievements history remembers.
Ceremonies last for a day. Legacy lasts for generations.
As the applause from the golden jubilee gradually fades, the difficult realities remain. Displaced families are still in camps. Farmers still fear returning to their fields. Unemployment persists. Communities continue to mourn. The ordinary Benue citizen still waits for the dividends of governance.
The true celebration of Benue at fifty will not come through elaborate ceremonies or distinguished guests. It will come when every farmer can cultivate without fear, every child can sleep without the sound of gunfire, every ethnic group feels fairly represented, and government becomes known more for development than for political disputes.
Until then, many will remember Benue at 50 not as a celebration of remarkable progress, but as a lavish birthday party held while the house itself cried out for rescue.
(Itodo is a journalist, public affairs analyst, and communications strategist. He writes on governance, democracy, public policy, and national development.)
