Ezeagu in runs: Eyewitness accounts from a community under siege

This was not the Eastern Security Network.

Ezeagu in runs: Eyewitness accounts from a community under siege Ezeagu in runs: Eyewitness accounts from a community under siege

EZEAGU IN RUINS: EYEWITNESS ACCOUNTS FROM A COMMUNITY UNDER SIEGE

Obinwannem Igbo News | Field Report | May 16, 2026.

I am writing this from Ezeagu, Enugu State, and what I am looking at as I write these words is not the aftermath of a natural disaster. It is not the result of a community conflict. What I am standing in the middle of is calculated, deliberate destruction, and the people who survived it are still here, still standing in the wreckage of their homes, trying to explain to anyone willing to listen what happened to them and who brought this upon them.

Look around this compound. Look at these houses. The roofs have been torn off. The walls have been shattered. Personal belongings, clothes, furniture, household items accumulated over lifetimes, have been thrown into the mud and left there.

They did not just destroy structures. They destroyed food. Mounds of cassava. Local delicacies that families had prepared and stored. Things that represent weeks and months of labour by people who have very little to begin with. All of it scattered across the dirt and ruined. These are not the actions of people who came here to restore order. These are the actions of people who came here to send a message.

The eyewitnesses here in Ezeagu are not confused about what happened. They are not hedging. They are speaking with the clarity of people who saw it with their own eyes and lived to tell it, some of them barely. These were Nigerian soldiers. This was not the Eastern Security Network. The state forces came into this community and brought this terror upon these people. That is what the witnesses are saying, and their testimony deserves to be heard without distortion.

The Father Who Almost Did Not Come Home

Among the testimonies collected here, one stands out for what it reveals about the nature of what took place. A local man, a father, set out to do one of the most ordinary things a parent does. He went to pick up his child from school. That is all he was doing. On the way, he ran directly into the soldiers.

They opened fire. He ran. It was only by what he himself describes as the mercy of God that he survived and made it back to the community alive. He was not armed. He was not threatening anyone. He was a father on his way to collect his child. The soldiers shot at him anyway. He is alive. Others may not have been as fortunate, and the community is still accounting for what was lost beyond the physical structures that are visible to the eye.

This is not a statistic. This is a man who almost did not come home to his child, and the reason he almost did not come home is that armed soldiers opened fire on him while he was walking along a road in his own community.

Chisom: The Girl Who Has Not Come Home

Of all the testimonies gathered from Ezeagu, one has refused to leave. It belongs not to a man who survived gunfire or a family standing in the ruins of their home. It belongs to a young girl named Chisom, and it is told not through her own words but through her absence and through what she left behind.

Chisom was doing something her mother had asked her to do. She was making palm oil. It was a domestic task, ordinary and unhurried, the kind of thing young girls in Igbo communities do without ceremony, helping their mothers the way daughters have always helped their mothers. She was in the middle of that work when the soldiers came.

She has not been seen since.

Nobody knows where Chisom is. Nobody knows what happened to her in the chaos that followed the military’s arrival. What is known is that she was there, and then she was not. And the palm oil she was making for her mother sits where she left it, full to the brim, untouched, as though it is waiting for hands that have not returned to finish what they started.

That image, a pot of palm oil sitting full and still in the middle of a destroyed compound, waiting for a girl whose whereabouts nobody can account for, is not a detail. It is a testimony of its own. It speaks to what was interrupted, what was taken, and what no military

Written by Nwada Chidimma Ejikeme (Obinwannem News correspondent, Enugwu State)
Date: May 15, 2026
Ubochi Nkwo Ikuku.
Published by Mazi Ugwu Okechukwu (Director, Obinwannem Media)

leave a reply

WP Radio
WP Radio
OFFLINE LIVE