Imagine a world where faith leaders aren’t just preaching peace—they’re boldly stepping up to confront what they see as state-sanctioned atrocities. That’s the shocking reality unfolding in Nigeria, where a respected cleric is threatening to drag the Tinubu administration to the International Criminal Court (ICC) for what he calls the systematic slaughter of Christians in the northern regions. This isn’t just another news story; it’s a rallying cry that could reshape global views on religious violence in Africa. But here’s where it gets controversial—could this accusation actually be fueling division, or is it a necessary spotlight on ignored injustices? Let’s dive in and unpack this gripping tale, step by step, so even those new to these complex issues can follow along.
At the heart of this drama is Reverend Ezekiel Dachomo, a regional leader in the Church of Christ in Nations (COCIN) based in Plateau State. He’s not sitting idly by; instead, he’s launched a personal crusade to meticulously gather evidence of widespread killings targeting Christians. Picture this as a one-man investigative mission, where Dachomo travels to hotspots across multiple northern states like Plateau, Benue, and others, collecting firsthand testimonies, snapping photos of video evidence, and even documenting mass graves. His goal? To compile all this into a comprehensive report that will be shared with the United States government and the global community at large. For beginners wondering what this means, think of the ICC as an international tribunal created to prosecute the worst crimes against humanity, like genocide—it’s like a global court of last resort when local systems fail.
And this is the part most people miss: Dachomo isn’t holding back in his criticisms. In a candid chat with PUNCH newspaper, he blasted both the Nigerian government and the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN)—the umbrella group representing various Christian denominations—for what he sees as deliberate cover-ups. He claims their refusal to acknowledge or address these massacres has only empowered the perpetrators, allowing the violence to spiral out of control. ‘The world needs to know that what we’re saying is not false. I will go to any length to prove that this government is lying,’ Dachomo declared passionately. He even hinted at plans to sue the Miyetti Allah Cattle Breeders Association, accusing them of playing a key role in these horrific acts. Now, this is where opinions can clash fiercely—some might argue that pointing fingers at groups like Miyetti Allah oversimplifies complex ethnic and economic tensions in Nigeria, potentially escalating conflicts rather than resolving them. What do you think: is this bold truth-telling, or could it inadvertently widen societal rifts?
Dachomo’s resolve was spotlighted during a mass burial event for victims of a recent attack in Heipang, Plateau State, where he criticized how the scale of these killings has been intentionally downplayed. ‘Since the Federal Government claimed there was no genocide, that statement has pushed me to intensify this work. CAN is also denying the genocide, so I’m determined to prove them wrong,’ he said. To illustrate the gravity, he shared chilling personal accounts from his visits to massacre sites. Take Dogo Nahawa, for example, where an astonishing 501 people perished in a single night—an event that paints a grim picture of the coordinated terror faced by communities. Or consider his own village, where 23 residents, including his best friend’s wife and five children, were burned alive in a brutal assault. Just last week, he recounted, seven more lives were lost in Jaruwa, where terrorists trapped worshippers inside a church during a service, dousing it with gas lamps and igniting it, leaving no survivors. These stories aren’t abstract; they’re raw reminders of how everyday faith practices can turn deadly, and for those unfamiliar with these regions, it’s worth noting that northern Nigeria has long grappled with clashes stemming from land disputes, herder-farmer conflicts, and religious divides—think of it as a powder keg of historical grievances.
When pressed about whether the U.S. government had officially invited him, Dachomo kept things under wraps, simply stating, ‘That one is private.’ Despite whispers of danger—reports suggest threats to his life—he remains steadfast, attributing his safety to divine protection. ‘I’m safe. God has sent angels to guide me, and they are in charge of my life now. Some people have hired security men to protect my family, but my life is in God’s hands. I have no fear of anyone,’ he shared with unwavering faith. This blend of spiritual conviction and activism is inspiring to some, yet controversial to others who might question if leaning so heavily on divine intervention overlooks the need for practical security measures.
Meanwhile, the community is rallying in support. On X (formerly Twitter), Nigerians are stepping up with donations, sharing screenshots of transfers ranging from ₦1,000 to ₦50,000. One user recounted their conversation with Dachomo: ‘I called Rev. Ezekiel. We spoke at length; I thanked him immensely for standing strong in the face of adversity. He permitted me to go ahead and send my little quota in support of the ministry.’ Another, @Imma1000, added: ‘I have sent the little I have. I pray our Lord Jesus Christ strengthens him to overcome this perilous time. To all those affected, may God show mercy.’ Dachomo confirmed that over ₦7 million has poured in so far, funneled directly to him rather than the church account, as donors insisted on personal support. These funds are being wisely distributed via local committees to aid widows, orphans, and displaced families—providing essentials like medical care for the injured, small grants for those whose farms were ravaged, and material support to help rebuild shattered lives. It’s a grassroots example of how crowdfunding can amplify voices for justice, but it also raises questions: should international bodies like the ICC intervene in such domestic matters, or does that risk foreign interference in sovereign affairs?
As this story unfolds, it’s clear that Dachomo’s efforts could spark a broader conversation about accountability in Nigeria. Is he a hero exposing hidden truths, or is this a divisive move that might polarize communities further? We invite you to share your thoughts in the comments—do you agree with his accusations against the government and CAN, or do you see counterarguments that deserve more airtime? Let’s discuss: What’s your take on how religious violence should be addressed globally?