…As Christian faithful across Plateau, Benue, Kwara, Others face a holiday gripped by terror
…Rising insurgent attacks shatter the peace of the holy season
…Families left in despair as fear replaces the joy of the resurrection
Mirroring the “Black Christmas” of 2025, a devastating surge of terror has turned Easter 2026 into a season of mourning, shattering the peace of the most sacred holiday in Christendom across the Middle Belt and beyond, JULIET IBIMINA and JIBRIN NDANUSA write.
As the dawn of Easter Sunday breaks over the undulating hills of Plateau and the fertile plains of Benue, the traditional peal of church bells carries a discordant note this year. For millions of Christian faithful across Nigerias Middle Belt and beyond, the “Halleluiah” of the resurrection is being sung through tears. Instead of the vibrant processions and communal feasts that typically define this most sacred of seasons, a heavy pall of apprehension has descended, turning a celebration of life into a desperate vigil for survival.
The 2026 Easter season has been ushered in not by the quiet reflection of Lent, but by the staccato of gunfire and the smoke of burning homesteads. From the blood-soaked streets of Jos to the besieged villages of Benue and the volatile corridors of Kwara, the story is hauntingly familiar: a holiday gripped by terror, where hope is a diminishing commodity and fear is the only constant.
The tragedy reached a fever pitch on Palm Sunday in Jos, Plateau State. What began as a solemn commemoration of Christs triumphal entry into Jerusalem ended in a massacre. In the Angwan Rukuba area, gunmen, callously indifferent to the sanctity of the day, launched a coordinated assault that left at least 30 people dead.
“We were preparing for the evening service when the chaos began, says Maryam Ishaku, a mother of three who survived the attack but lost her eldest son. Her voice, thick with the weight of unimaginable grief, reflects the collective trauma of the state. Easter is supposed to be about the victory of life over death. But here, death seems to be winning. How do I tell my children to celebrate when their brothers seat at the table is empty?
The irony of Plateaus moniker, the Home of Peace and Tourism, has never felt more bitter. The subsequent 24-hour curfew imposed by the state government has turned the capital into a ghost town, with military patrols replacing the joyful parades of the faithful.
The Middle Belt Under Siege
Further south, in Benue State, the narrative of displacement continues unabated. In the days leading up to Good Friday, several communities in Otukpo and Agatu fell under renewed siege. Reports indicate that dozens have been killed in a string of raids that have sent thousands fleeing to overcrowded Internally Displaced Persons, IDP, camps.
For many in these camps, Easter is a luxury they can no longer afford. We are celebrating the resurrection in the dirt, says Pa Terrence Akiga, an elder from a village near Otukpo. The terrorists have taken our farms, our homes, and now they want to take our faith. We are praying, yes, but we are praying for the strength to survive another night, not for the joy of the holiday.
In Kwara State, though less publicised, the creeping shadow of insecurity has led to the cancellation of several traditional Easter retreats in rural areas, as kidnapping syndicates continue to exploit the porous forest borders.
A Haunting Echo of Yuletide 2025
The current atmosphere of “depressing uncertainty” feels like a cruel repeat of the 2025 Yuletide season. Nigerians vividly remember the ‘Black Christmas’ of last year, where similar coordinated attacks across the North Central region turned the birth of Christ into a season of mourning.
The failure to break this cycle of seasonal violence has drawn sharp criticism from notable Nigerians. The Catholic Bishop of Sokoto, Matthew Hassan Kukah, in a searing Easter message, noted the governments apparent inability to protect the vulnerable during religious festivals.
“The blood of the innocent has become the grim ink with which our national history is being written, Bishop Kukah remarked. We saw it last Christmas, and we are seeing it again this Easter. It is a failure of statecraft when the citizens only choice is between fear and flight. The resurrection must not just be a theological concept; it must manifest as a resurrection of our national security.
Similarly, the Christian Association of Nigeria, CAN, has called for an “immediate and radical” shift in the security architecture. We cannot continue to offer ‘thoughts and prayers’ as a substitute for intelligence and enforcement, a spokesperson for the association stated.
Fading Hope and Shattered Peace
The psychological toll on the faithful is profound. Across several dioceses, the traditional Easter Vigil – the most significant service of the liturgical year – has been moved from midnight to late afternoon. The darkness of the night is now perceived as a predators playground rather than a time for holy anticipation.
According to David Oche, a resident of Makurdi, The joy is gone. In 2024, we hoped. In 2025, we struggled. Now, in 2026, we are just tired. The resurgence of these attacks is worrisome because it shows that the elements of terror have no regard for our common humanity or our shared religious seasons.
As the Federal Government calls for Nigerians to “close ranks,” the reality on the ground remains fractured. While the coincidence of Ramadan and Lent earlier this month offered a fleeting moment of interfaith solidarity, the subsequent violence has tested the resilience of that harmony.
The Resurrection of Hope?
Despite the bleakness, the Nigerian spirit remains stubbornly resilient. In the IDP camps of Benue and the hushed churches of Jos, prayers continue to rise. They are no longer prayers for prosperity, but cries for peace.
As the 2026 Easter celebrations conclude, the message from the pews is clear: Nigerians are exhausted by the ritual of mourning that has replaced the ritual of worship. The “New Nigeria” promised by leaders remains an elusive vision as long as the shadow of the gunman looms over the altar. For now, this Easter remains a bleak reminder that for many, the stone has not yet been rolled away from the tomb of national insecurity.
