By Rex
A Plea for Reason Over Ruin
Land, in agrarian societies, is more than soil; it is memory, survival, and ancestry passed carefully from one generation to the next. This truth lies at the heart of the long-running dispute between Oso Edda and Amasiri, two neighboring communities whose shared history is being swallowed by a localized humanitarian catastrophe.

While Nigeria has seen many bloody land disputes—such as the protracted Effium and Ezza-Effium conflict in Ebonyi, which claimed hundreds of lives and displaced thousands—the current state-led response has turned a disagreement into a desolation.
History shows that even the most volatile disputes, like the Aguleri-Umuleri conflict or the Tiv-Jukun crises, eventually found respite not through the barrel of a gun, but through rigorous “jaw-jaw” mediation. Globally, the successful resolution of the Beagle Channel dispute between Chile and Argentina through Papal mediation, or the Land Claims Court successes in post-Apartheid South Africa, prove that justice is a product of the pen and the heart, never the sword.
As the proverb says, “The person who starts a fire must eventually breathe the smoke.”
For decades, these communities coexisted via a matrilineal pattern of descent called Ikwu, a sacred bond where kin do not harm one another. However, with the recent and condemnable attacks and counter-attacks, that rule has been vitiated, and the state’s response has only deepened the wound. While it is justified for the government to use both kinetic and non-kinetic approaches to restore order, the execution here has been perceived by many as rather heavy and tilted.
The sack of government officials, the imposition of curfews, and the total closure of schools, religious centers, and medical amenities represent a staggering level of administrative ineptitude.
Most tragically, the human cost is measured in lives that could have been saved; during the three-week period of peak tension, the number of unattended childbirths ran into scores, while avoidable deaths tolled in their hundreds. When those who sustained injuries during enforcement by overzealous soldiers sought medical help, they found the availability of care was zero.
The economic lifeblood of the region has similarly been bled dry. The Internally Generated Revenue (IGR) of the state has dropped significantly due to the inactivity of local rice mills but amazingly the quarry fields are functional at full steam.
While citizen’s trading of all kinds has been painfully paused, and hunger and malnutrition have taken a heavy toll on them. One must candidly decry the current leadership’s approach; the Governor, while acting and displaying legitimate powers, must not be seen to use a sledgehammer to smash a fly.
There is a worrying obstinacy in this administration that mirrors the biblical Pharaoh, who hardened his heart against the cries of the people even as his land crumbled. We must warn that “A man who makes trouble for others is also making trouble for himself.” History is a cruel teacher to those who mistake tyranny for strength.
We remember the horror visited upon Uganda by Idi Amin Dada, whose brutality saw an estimated 300,000 lives lost, with bodies dumped into the Nile to feed crocodiles because the graves could not be dug fast enough.
We recall the madness of Jean-Bédel Bokassa of the Central African Republic, who personally oversaw the beating and massacre of school children who protested against expensive government-mandated uniforms.
The end of such totalitarians is never a sunset of glory, but a midnight of absolute doom; Amin died in lonely exile, and Bokassa died in disgrace. The universe has a way of balancing the scales: “If you throw a stone in the market, it will hit your own relative.” We therefore appeal to Mr. Governor to rescind these tough sanctions, release the Royal Fathers, and restore a sense of equality and belonging.
We also call on the National Assembly to step in and exercise its oversight to ensure a neutral and lasting peace, while the National Boundary Commission finalizes a permanent, visible demarcation.
Amid the suffering, old women have embarked on an intercessory trip, seeking a return to the peace their ancestors knew. To truly heal, the custodians of history from both sides must tell the children the absolute truth about the ownership of the parcel in dispute.
The Oso Edda–Amasiri dispute is about justice, dignity, and the future of children who deserve classrooms instead of conflict zones. Only through dialogue and the withdrawal of soldiers can the soil return to what it was always meant to be: a source of life, not loss. For as the elders say, “The sky is large enough for all birds to fly without colliding.”
Rex Writes