Angry Villagers Protest After Catholic Choirmaster, Father and Son Are K!lled by Gu.nmen
Achakpa community in Benue State is once again the scene of grief, anger, and defiance after yet another violent attack by suspected armed herdsmen claimed three lives and left several others missing. This latest tragedy has reignited fears that Nigeria’s farmer-herder conflict, one of the country’s deadliest and most persistent security crises, is far from over.
The victims — identified as Tor Felafa, his son Peter, and Francis Kulegwa, a well-known choirmaster in the Catholic Diocese of Makurdi — were ambushed and murdered while working on their farms in the early hours of Saturday, September 20, 2025.
What followed was a dramatic show of resistance: hundreds of Achakpa villagers poured onto the busy Makurdi–Abuja highway, blocking traffic, brandishing placards, and chanting solidarity songs. Their demand was simple yet urgent — justice for the slain and lasting security for their community.
Achakpa, a small but historically resilient community in Agan District of Makurdi Local Government Area, has lived with the shadow of violence for years. Residents say Saturday’s attack was not just another tragedy — it was an escalation.
Eyewitnesses report that the victims were targeted with precision.
“They had been watching us for days,” said Mr. Augustine Torkuma, a farmer who narrowly escaped. “We went to clear our farms, and suddenly we heard gunshots. People scattered. By the time we returned, three people were dead.”
Francis Kulegwa, one of the deceased, was more than just a church leader. He was the choirmaster of Daudu Mission, a beloved figure who coordinated choir rehearsals and mentored dozens of young choristers. Parishioners say his death is a devastating blow to the spiritual life of the community.
By mid-morning, the normally busy Makurdi–Abuja highway had turned into a sea of humanity. Men, women, and youths carried leaves — a traditional sign of mourning — as well as placards that read:
- “Stop the Killings Now!”
- “Our Farms Are Not Battlefields!”
- “Governor, Come and See!”
The protest blocked vehicles for hours, leaving travelers stranded. Some motorists joined in solidarity, while others expressed frustration over the disruption.
“I was on my way to Abuja for an urgent business meeting,” said Melody Ede, a traveler caught in the gridlock. “At first I was angry, but when I heard that three people were murdered, I realized why they are protesting. If it were my family, I would do the same.”
The villagers insisted they would not leave until Governor Hyacinth Alia or senior security officials addressed them in person.
The spokesperson for the Benue State Police Command, DSP Udeme Edet, confirmed the killings but provided little detail.
“Yes, we received a report of an attack on Achakpa community where three persons were killed. Investigations are ongoing,” Edet said.
But villagers say “investigations” are not enough. They want proactive protection — not just post-attack responses.
Benue State, often called the “Food Basket of the Nation,” has been one of the epicenters of Nigeria’s farmer-herder conflict, which has killed thousands over the past decade. The conflict pits mostly Christian farming communities against predominantly Muslim pastoralist herders, often over access to land, grazing routes, and water.
But what was once a localized resource clash has taken on new dimensions, with the introduction of sophisticated weapons, alleged infiltration by armed militias, and the near-total collapse of trust between communities.
“This is no longer about cows,” says Dr. Miriam Ayede, a conflict analyst based in Makurdi. “What we are seeing is systemic violence, displacement, and a breakdown of rural livelihoods.”
In Achakpa, Saturday’s attack has triggered mass fear. Families have begun fleeing to nearby IDP camps (Internally Displaced Persons camps) around Daudu and Abagena, fearing further raids.
The Catholic Diocese of Makurdi, which has lost several priests and parishioners to similar attacks in recent years, condemned the killings in strong terms.
Fr. Solomon Ukeyima, Director of Social Communications for the Diocese, said:
“We are tired of burying our parishioners. We are tired of counting bodies. We call on the government of Benue State and the Federal Government to rise to their constitutional duty to protect lives and property.”
During Saturday’s protest, several villagers shared their anguish with reporters:
“We can no longer go to our farms. Hunger is killing us, and now they are killing us too,” cried Mrs. Dooshima Kator, a widow.
“We voted for this government because they promised to protect us. Where is that protection?” asked Mr. Emmanuel Shior, a youth leader.
“We will not bury these people quietly this time. The world must hear what is happening in Benue,” said Elder Terver Iorhemba, pounding his walking stick on the ground.
Security experts argue that attacks like this persist because of systemic governance failures. The Benue State Anti-Open Grazing Law, signed in 2017, was meant to curb violent clashes by banning open grazing of cattle. However, enforcement has been weak, and critics say it has only pushed the conflict into deadlier territory.
“Laws are only as strong as the security architecture backing them,” says retired Major General Ishola Williams. “Right now, rural security is almost non-existent. Villagers are easy targets.”
For Achakpa and many rural communities in Benue, the fear is not just about losing loved ones but about losing their way of life. Farming is their economic backbone, and abandoning their land could mean generational poverty.
“If they push us out of our farms, what do they want us to eat?” asked Mrs. Kulegwa, widow of the slain choirmaster. “Are we not citizens of this country?”
The Achakpa killings are more than just another headline — they are a symptom of a deeper crisis threatening Nigeria’s unity. Unless decisive action is taken, experts warn that the farmer-herder conflict could escalate into wider ethno-religious war.
For now, the villagers remain on the highway, holding placards and praying that someone in authority will listen. Their message is as clear as the chants that echo through the dusty Benue air:
“Enough is enough.”