Olu Allen
Nineteen soldiers slaughtered in cold blood.
Another four killed in Benue, their names added to the ledger of the forgotten.
And while Nigerians buried their dead, their Commander-in-Chief jetted off… to Saint Lucia.
Saint Lucia.
A Caribbean island better known for turquoise beaches and rum punch than for urgent bilateral salvation.
The excuse?
To “deepen diplomatic relations” and “reconnect with ancestral roots.”
This isn’t satire. This is Nigeria in 2025.
Let’s be clear: No one begrudges a president his duties, or even his rest. African solidarity is noble. Pan-Africanism is valuable. But leadership is about timing.
What exact value does an eight-day sojourn in Saint Lucia bring to a nation writhing in the grip of violence, inflation, and a hemorrhage of hope?
This trip is part of a maddening pattern. Nigerian presidents, particularly in recent years, treat the oil ministry as a crown jewel while treating the security crisis as a distant rumor. It’s as if petro-dollars drown out the cries of the dying.
What Nigeria needs right now is not a globe-trotting figurehead.
We need a president knee-deep in the chaos, walking the bloodied streets of Zamfara, sitting in the scorched villages of Plateau, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with soldiers who fight with aging rifles and fading morale.
Not a president sipping coconut water under Caribbean skies while his citizens bury their children.
A Masterclass in Tone-Deafness
This trip isn’t just diplomatically shallow, it’s a slap to the faces of the grieving.
The optics are not just appalling, they’re unforgivable.
Did no one in the Federal Executive Council whisper, “Sir, the timing…”?
Was there no aide brave enough to say, “Let’s delay the rum cocktails until we’re not burying troops by the dozen”?
We remember.
President Umaru Musa Yar’Adua, a man who understood symbolism, chose to vacation at Obudu Cattle Ranch. No five-star escapism. No performative Pan-Africanism. Just quiet presence on the soil he governed. His brevity in office was outmatched only by his clarity of priority.
Leadership Is Presence, Not Posturing
Let’s stop pretending. The Saint Lucia trip will yield no treaties to end banditry, no investments to revive the naira, no magic wand for our darkness.
It’s eight days of taxpayer-funded serenity dressed in diplomatic garb.
And while the President exchanges platitudes with Caribbean dignitaries, the men and women eho hold Nigeria together with their blood are lowered into unmarked graves.
What a Leader Would Have Done
In a nation that valued its people, the Saint Lucia trip would’ve been postponed before the ink dried on the memo.
The Commander-in-Chief would’ve flown **not with a delegation of aides, but with a team of generals to Benue, to Zamfara, to Mangu. Not for photo ops, but for orders:
- Why are we losing troops?
- Where are the drones promised six months ago?
- Who answers for this?
In other climes, leaders cancel vacations to visit disaster zones.
In Nigeria, power means a first-class ticket away from the disaster.
Nigeria doesn’t need another passport-stamping expedition.
What we need is a president who bleeds where Nigeria bleeds—not in Caribbean resorts, but in the smoldering ruins of our homeland
Saint Lucia can wait.
Nigeria is running out of time.
