Nigeria once again finds itself in the global spotlight, accused of failing to protect millions of its own citizens. In Washington, Congressman Chris Smith of New Jersey, a long-time advocate for global religious freedom, has raised the alarm that Christians in Nigeria are living under what he calls a “terrorist siege.” He cites the ongoing atrocities of Boko Haram, the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP), and armed Fulani militias who, according to him, continue to unleash waves of killings, kidnappings, and destruction of churches. Smith warns that the silence of Nigeria’s political class has emboldened extremist elements and left communities defenseless. His resolution before the US Congress paints a picture of a nation where pastors are abducted, worshippers are massacred during Sunday services, and entire villages are reduced to ashes.
His concerns echo those of Bishop Wilfred Anagbe of Makurdi Diocese, who has spoken with unusual bluntness about the scale of the crisis. Anagbe warns that unless decisive action is taken, Nigeria risks the slow extermination of its Christian population. He frames the threat in stark numbers: with an estimated 86 million Christians in the country—nearly half of Nigeria’s population—unchecked attacks could amount to what he calls “the gradual erasure of an entire people.” In his words, the survival of Christianity in Nigeria is at stake.
The Nigerian government, however, strongly disputes these claims. Officials argue that the crisis is not a religious war but a broader security challenge driven by poverty, criminality, land disputes, and resource competition worsened by climate change. Kimiebi Imomotimi Ebienfa, spokesperson of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, insists that the narrative of a Christian genocide is misleading. According to him, many Muslim communities in the North have also suffered devastating losses from terrorist attacks, banditry, and communal violence. Abuja maintains that while extremists exist, framing the conflict as a religiously targeted campaign distorts reality and risks inflaming tensions further.
Civil society and independent observers complicate this debate with their own data. The civil liberties group Intersociety claims that between January and August 2025 alone, 7,087 Christians were killed and nearly 8,000 abducted, averaging about 30 Christian deaths per day. They attribute most of these casualties to Boko Haram, ISWAP, and radicalized Fulani militias. The Observatory for Religious Freedom in Africa (ORFA) documented 55,910 deaths between October 2019 and September 2023 across almost 10,000 incidents of violence. Of these, 16,769 were identified as Christian civilians, confirming that Christians have borne a disproportionate share of the suffering.
Yet, these figures are not without controversy. Critics say NGOs sometimes overstate casualty numbers due to challenges in verifying attacks in remote or inaccessible regions. Independent verification is often difficult in a country where government reporting is patchy, security is fragile, and communities themselves sometimes interpret violence through the lens of religion, even when other factors—such as grazing rights, land use, or simple criminal extortion—play a role.
Still, the reality is that too many lives are being lost. Whether one accepts the Intersociety’s daily tally or the government’s broader framing, Nigeria’s rural communities remain under siege. Villagers in Plateau, Benue, Kaduna, and Borno states live in constant fear of night raids. Families displaced by attacks swell the ranks of internally displaced persons, with over 3.3 million Nigerians displaced by violence according to the United Nations. For many citizens, the arguments over whether killings are religious or not mean little—the result is the same: loss of life, livelihood, and dignity.
The government insists it is scaling up security responses, pointing to recent military offensives and improved intelligence operations. President Bola Tinubu, in the wake of a series of killings in Plateau in 2025, vowed that perpetrators would be tracked and punished. Yet critics argue that these promises rarely translate into lasting security. Communities often rebuild alone, while justice remains elusive.
The divide between international alarm, church leaders’ warnings, and government denials leaves Nigeria in a troubling bind. If Congressman Smith and Bishop Anagbe are correct, the country faces one of the gravest humanitarian crises of its time—a slow-motion genocide of a major religious group. If the government’s narrative holds, then the crisis, though devastating, is being exaggerated for political or religious reasons, and the real challenge is building institutions capable of tackling complex, multi-causal insecurity.
Either way, the death toll continues to climb. Nigeria’s tragedy is not merely in the numbers but in the persistent failure to deliver accountability, security, and truth. What cannot be denied is that families continue to bury their loved ones week after week, while the world debates semantics. In the end, history may remember less of the statistics and more of the silence.
