Stanislaus Ag on Nostr: Beloved brethren, Since the day I conducted the mass burial of the 22 innocent ...

Beloved brethren,

Since the day I conducted the mass burial of the 22 innocent Christians murdered in Kawel Community, Mushere District, Bokkos LGA, on the night of June 21, 2026, I have not been myself.

Sleep has become a stranger to me. Every time I close my eyes, I see the graves. I hear the cries of widows, mothers, and orphaned children. I see lifeless bodies. I see pain that words cannot fully describe. Something inside me broke that day.

Today, I said to myself, you must speak.”

Some say I talk too much. Some say I should move on. But how can I move on when innocent blood is still fresh on the ground? How can I remain silent after witnessing such unimaginable sorrow?

That terrible night, while families slept, believing they would wake to another day of farming, worship, and family life, death came instead. Gunfire shattered the silence shortly after midnight. Children screamed. Mothers grabbed their babies. Fathers rushed to protect their families as terror engulfed the community.

Among the stories that haunt me is that of a husband who stood between armed attackers and his wife. He fought so she could escape through the back of their home. By sunrise, he was dead. She lives today because he chose to lay down his life for hers.

Another is of a pastor who refused to abandon his family. Though his wife begged him to stay hidden, he stepped outside to defend his home, fully aware he might never return. His body was among those recovered the next morning. His wife survived because of his sacrifice.

An elderly man who had spent his life protecting his community also stood watch over his family that night. He too was killed before the dawn.

As I walked among grieving families, I saw mothers weeping over children, wives over husbands, and children over parents who would never return. Some victims were shot at close range. Some died while fleeing. Others died protecting those they loved.

At the burial ground, I watched relatives gather around 22 graves. Strong men struggled to hold back tears. Elderly women collapsed in grief. One child kept looking around as though expecting a parent to wake up and come home. That image has never left me.

I keep asking myself: Who will comfort these children? Who will wipe away the tears of these widows? Who will rebuild these shattered lives? Who will speak for those whose voices have been silenced forever?

Proverbs 31:8 says, “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves.”

That is why I will not be silent.

If speaking for widows means I talk too much, I will keep talking.

If speaking for orphans means I talk too much, I will keep talking.

If speaking for the innocent dead means I talk too much, I will keep talking.

The graves of these 22 Christians are speaking. The tears of their families are speaking. The pain of Kawel is speaking. I cannot ignore that voice.

I appeal to every person of conscience: remember these families in your prayers. Remember the widows, the orphans, the elderly, and an entire community whose joy was turned into mourning overnight.

Do not grow weary of praying. Do not grow weary of caring. Do not grow weary of standing with those who suffer.

Psalm 34:18 reminds us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Though my heart is wounded and my eyes are filled with tears, I will keep speaking until help comes, until justice comes, until peace returns, and until the world hears the cry of Kawel and every suffering family whose loved ones were taken from them.

May God comfort the bereaved, heal the wounded, protect the vulnerable, and grant eternal rest to the departed.