In the aftermath of the tragic stampede in Nigeria that took the lives of many, including children, the words from the Bible in Jeremiah 31:15 feel so real: “A voice is heard in Ramah, mourning and great weeping, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted because they are no more.”
This verse paints a vivid picture of a mother’s deep sorrow, symbolising the collective grief of a nation losing its children. This sorrow should remind us of the urgent need for unity and compassion in the face of such profound loss. For Nigeria, grappling with hardship and heartbreak, this moment must become a lesson – not an opportunity for political games, but a time for true leadership and healing.
The reference to Ramah is significant. According to biblical commentaries like those in Matthew 2:18, Ramah was a location tied to immense sorrow – a place where Jewish captives were gathered before being taken into exile. In the New Testament, this verse is echoed to describe the anguish of mothers during King Herod’s massacre of the innocents. Rachel’s weeping transcends individual grief, symbolizing a communal mourning for lost innocence and life.
As Christmas approaches, the resonance of this story deepens. Just as mothers mourned during the events surrounding Jesus’ birth, we too, as Nigerians, must share in the pain of grieving families affected by this tragedy. Their sorrow is a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the need for compassion.
This recent stampede mirrors the sorrow captured in Jeremiah’s lament. Rachel’s weeping symbolised the heartbreak of a people torn apart by exile; a grief so profound it reverberates through history. Today’s tragedy echoes that anguish, as several incidents across Nigeria have claimed dozens of lives. In one instance, at least 32 people died in a stampede during a rush to collect Christmas gifts. Another report revealed the devastating loss of 10 lives, including children, at a charity event meant to bring relief.
In yet another tragedy, the death toll at a food distribution center exceeded 50, leaving families shattered and communities in mourning. Festus Adedayo, in his poignant article “Harvest of Human Chickens for Christmas,” recounts the story of a mother who lost her newborn in the chaos, a life so young and innocent, gone in an instant. Separately, I also heard the heartbreaking story of another mother who had taken four children to a food distribution but tragically lost three of them in the chaos. These unimaginable losses expose the harsh reality of life for so many Nigerians, where even moments of goodwill can end in despair.
Leadership is not about projecting invincibility but about showing compassion when things fall apart. Take former President Barack Obama as an example. During a memorial for slain peace officers in Dallas, he openly wept. This act of vulnerability was not a sign of weakness but a demonstration of deep care, which strengthened the bond between him and the American people. Having worked with an organisation connected to Obama’s career, I have seen firsthand how such openness can create trust and a sense of shared purpose, inspiring hope even in the darkest times.
Contrast this with leaders who attempt to appear unshakeable in moments that demand empathy and connection. For example, Donald Trump’s refusal to acknowledge his need for God’s forgiveness alienated many Christians, a key part of his political base. As someone who attended an evangelical institution deeply tied to Trump’s support during his election, I saw firsthand how such statements created unease within that community.
Additionally, his premature departure from the hospital during his COVID-19 treatment – an effort to project strength – ultimately backfired, costing him both sympathy and credibility. Such actions demonstrated a disconnect between his leadership image and the emotional expectations of his followers. People need to see their leaders’ humanity, as it reassures them that their struggles and emotions are understood and shared.
President Tinubu’s reliance on spokespersons to deliver “soft” messages after tragedies creates a sense of detachment. Nigerians need to see their president’s heart. A tear, a heartfelt speech, or an open show of grief could go a long way to heal the nation’s wounds. Leaders who don’t show they care risk appearing indifferent, which can deepen anger and disillusionment.
That said, this is not a time for blame. Even with a free press, lashing out at Tinubu won’t help Nigeria heal. This tragedy demands collective mourning and a shared understanding of the loss and pain. Divisive criticism will only widen the gaps that need bridging.
Beyond emotional leadership, practical solutions are essential. Take Nigeria’s fuel pricing issue: why should Nigerians pay international rates for fuel when they live in an oil-producing country? I’ve argued before that Dangote Refinery should sell fuel domestically at its production cost, not the global benchmark. Policies like this prioritise people over profits, demonstrating that leaders view citizens as individuals, not just statistics.
Research underscores the importance of combining macroeconomic strategies with microeconomic realities. Articles like “Microeconomic Foundations of Macroeconomic Policy” highlight how integrating small-scale insights can improve large-scale plans. Leaders who focus solely on broad numbers often miss the lived struggles of real families. For example, “Microeconomic Behaviour and Macroeconomic Outcomes” explains that effective policies must address daily challenges. By blending these perspectives, governments can create solutions that are fair and meaningful.
History also teaches us that the greatest leaders – from Abraham Lincoln to Nelson Mandela – embraced vulnerability. Lincoln’s emotional speeches during the Civil War and Mandela’s tireless reconciliation efforts after apartheid united their people. They understood that true strength comes from compassion and connection.
President Tinubu has a rare and pivotal opportunity to lead Nigeria through this moment of sorrow and despair. By demonstrating genuine care for the Nigerian people, he can rebuild trust and foster unity in a time of deep division. True leadership lies in vulnerability, which shows authenticity and strength. When a leader connects with the emotions of their people, it creates solidarity and a shared sense of purpose. This is Tinubu’s chance to demonstrate that genuine empathy and humanity are far more powerful than political posturing.
So, what can President Tinubu do? First, he must address Nigerians directly, speaking not just as a leader but as a fellow human being who shares their grief. Honesty and vulnerability are powerful tools; they allow people to connect with their leader on a personal level. A heartfelt message, delivered with genuine emotion, can provide solace and restore trust during these painful times.
Second, beyond words, he must take immediate steps to alleviate the everyday struggles that weigh heavily on Nigerians. Policies like reducing fuel prices to reflect the cost of domestic production, rather than international benchmarks, can offer tangible relief. Such actions signal that the government prioritises the welfare of its citizens over profit margins or bureaucratic inertia.
Finally, President Tinubu must cultivate a culture of empathy within his administration. This means creating a government that listens, understands, and acts on the needs of the people. By embedding compassion into policymaking and governance, he can rebuild faith in leadership and lay the foundation for a more unified and resilient Nigeria.
Jeremiah 31:15 reminds us of the profound sorrow that accompanies loss, but it also shines a light on the promise of hope and renewal. As we reflect on this tragedy, it mustn’t inspire despair but a collective resolve to create a more compassionate and unified Nigeria. Let us hold the grieving families in our hearts, offering them solace through our empathy and solidarity.
At the same time, we must look forward with determination, committing ourselves as a nation to the path of healing and restoration. We must ensure that such sorrow does not define our future but instead inspires meaningful change. Let us pray for the strength to rise above these challenges and for the wisdom to address the deep-rooted issues that have led us here.
Unity is key; it is what binds us together as a nation and gives us the resilience to rebuild in the face of adversity. Together, let us envision a future where peace and compassion triumph over pain and despair, offering hope to the grieving families and to all Nigerians.
By Abidemi Adebamiwa
