An Open Letter to His Excellency, Senator Kashim Shettima, GCON
By Emman Usman Shehu
Your Excellency,
In Zamfara today, grief has become routine. Funerals blur into one another, and fear is as constant as the harmattan wind. Against this backdrop, your planned visit on March 24, 2026, does not feel like a moment of solidarity. Instead, it risks symbolising a troubling disconnect between the priorities of leadership and the reality on the ground.
You are expected in Gusau to preside over a political event—the formal reception of Governor Dauda Lawal into the All Progressives Congress. There will be speeches, banners, and celebration. But beyond the stage-managed optics lies a different Zamfara—one defined not by party colours, but by bloodshed.
Communities across Maru, Tsafe, Anka, and Maradun continue to endure relentless attacks by armed groups who operate with alarming freedom. In just the first months of this year, the pattern has been grim. On March 14, gunmen abducted five foreign nationals from a mining site in Maru. Their whereabouts remain unknown. Earlier, deadly raids in Anka left scores dead, with many others—women and children—taken into captivity.
The story repeats itself across the state. Villages are raided, homes destroyed, and families displaced. Farmers are forced to pay illegal levies to access their own land. Students and corps members live under constant threat. Even the payment of ransom no longer guarantees safety, as victims are sometimes killed despite compliance.
These are not isolated tragedies; they reflect a deeper breakdown. Zamfara has become a symbol of what happens when security falters and citizens lose faith in protection. For many families, daily life revolves around uncertainty—waiting for news, hoping for survival, and mourning losses that often go unacknowledged beyond their communities.
What deepens this pain is the perception that attention from the centre comes selectively. For years, residents have longed for high-level visits focused on empathy, reassurance, and decisive action. Yet such gestures have been rare. In contrast, political developments—like defections—seem to draw swift and significant presence from national leadership.
This contrast raises difficult questions. It creates the impression that political gains receive urgency, while human suffering struggles for visibility. Whether intended or not, such optics risk weakening public trust and reinforcing a sense of abandonment.
Your Excellency, this is not a rejection of politics. Democratic choices, including party alignment, are legitimate. However, the timing and tone of public engagement matter—especially in places where lives are being lost and communities are under siege.
As you visit Zamfara, there is an opportunity to reshape the narrative. Beyond the ceremonies, there is a chance to acknowledge the pain of affected communities, to signal that their plight is seen and taken seriously, and to reinforce that the protection of lives remains paramount.
The people of Zamfara are not asking for grand promises. They are asking for balance—for leadership that places equal weight on governance and human security. They want to believe that their lives matter as much as political outcomes.
Let this visit be remembered not only for political developments, but as a moment when attention shifted—however briefly—toward those living with the consequences of insecurity. A moment when leadership chose to listen as well as to celebrate.
Yours sincerely,
A Concerned Son of Zamfara
…Dr. Shehu is an Abuja-based writer, activist, and educator.
