“I Miss the South East We Used to Know” — Femi Adesina Laments Rising Killings

Spokesman Femi Adesina has expressed deep sorrow and concern over the rising wave of violence in Nigeria’s South East, describing the situation as heartbreaking and far removed from the region many once knew.

Each time reports emerge of fresh killings by gunmen in the region, Adesina says he is overwhelmed with grief.

“I go into the doldrums,” he wrote, reflecting on what he called the senseless loss of human lives. “I get mortified by the sheer waste of precious lives, the wantonness, malevolence, and viciousness of it all.”

His pain, he noted, is not selective. It extends to both sides of the conflict—the security personnel cut down in the line of duty, and the gunmen themselves, many of whom he described as “misguided” and “brainwashed,” often meeting violent ends in return.

“It is MAD, Mutual Assured Destruction,” he said, borrowing a term from military strategy to describe what he sees as a cycle of violence with no winners.

A Region Changed Beyond Recognition

For Adesina, the tragedy goes beyond statistics. It is deeply personal and cultural.

“This is not the South East we used to know,” he lamented. “What happened? How did grace turn to disgrace?”

He recalled a time when the region was known for its rich cultural heritage, spiritual depth, and uplifting music that inspired unity and hope.

There was Voice of the Cross, whose songs stirred souls and strengthened faith. There were highlife legends like Oliver De Coque and Chief Stephen Osita Osadebe, as well as the iconic Oriental Brothers International Band.

Their music, he said, once transported listeners to “nobler things.”

Today, however, that harmony has been replaced by the harsh, unsettling sound of gunfire.

“What went wrong?” he asked.

From Songs to Gunshots

Adesina painted a vivid picture of the South East of old—where convents echoed with angelic hymns, and church services blended sermons with soul-lifting songs that brought congregations together in shared joy.

“Let Reverend Sisters in their white attires sing those Igbo gospel songs, and nobody could convince you they were not angels,” he recalled.

But that image, he suggested, now feels like a distant memory.

“What we have today are killing fields,” he said bluntly.

A Tragic Incident in Enugu

His reflections were triggered in part by recent violent incidents in Enugu State.

Earlier this week, a joint security team of soldiers and police officers was stationed at Obeagu-Amodu, along the Amechi-Agbani road in Enugu South Local Government Area. The officers, Adesina emphasized, were ordinary Nigerians—fathers, husbands, sons—serving their country and protecting communities.

“They had dreams, visions… even looking forward to Christmas,” he wrote.

Then, without warning, gunmen arrived in vehicles and opened fire.

Reports indicated that at least three soldiers were killed, with several others wounded. Some of the attackers were also shot during the exchange, while others fled with injuries.

“For what?” Adesina asked. “Futility. A pipe dream.”

Another Attack in Anambra

Barely a day later, another deadly incident occurred along the Umunze-Umunneochi road in Anambra State.

Gunmen reportedly ambushed security personnel, killing at least five soldiers and a civilian.

“Madness. Sheer lunacy,” Adesina wrote, struggling to comprehend the continued bloodshed.

A Cycle of Violence Without Meaning

What makes the situation even more tragic, he noted, is that many of those killed—both victims and attackers—are from the same region.

“Most of the people gunned down are indigenes of the area,” he observed. “Killing the same people you claim you want to liberateit makes no sense.”

For him, the violence reflects a dangerous contradiction one where the supposed goal of liberation is pursued through destruction.

“How do you claim you want to liberate a people after first shooting them to ribbons?” he asked.

A Moral and Spiritual Reflection

Drawing from scripture, Adesina likened the region’s decline to a fall from grace.

“How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!” he quoted, referencing Isaiah 14:12.

The biblical imagery underscored his belief that the crisis is not just political or security-related, but also moral and spiritual.

A Call for Reflection

While he did not offer specific policy solutions, Adesina’s message was clear: something fundamental has been lost, and it must be rediscovered.

His words serve as both a lament and a warning urging those involved in the violence, as well as the wider society, to reflect on the consequences of continued bloodshed.

For many Nigerians, especially those from the South East, his reflections echo a growing sense of loss and concern.

The region once celebrated for its culture, resilience, and enterprise now finds itself grappling with fear, uncertainty, and grief.

A Region at a Crossroads

As attacks continue and lives are lost, the question Adesina posed remains unanswered:

What happened to the South East we used to know?

Until that question is addressed not just by leaders, but by communities and individuals alike, the cycle of violence may continue.

And the memories of a peaceful, vibrant South East may remain just that memories.