𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑷 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑺𝑳𝑬𝑬𝑷: 𝑨 𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑨𝑳 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑴𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑰𝑱𝑨𝑾 𝑺𝑨𝑪𝑹𝑰𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑬, 𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑻𝑨, 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑨𝑳 𝑨𝑴𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑻𝒀 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑴𝑬

Across the Niger Delta today, a dangerous and dishonest narrative is being carefully constructed and aggressively circulated. It is a narrative powered not by truth, not by evidence, and certainly not by genuine concern for regional development — but by envy, entitlement, and betrayal.

Under the false banner of “equity” and “fairness,” certain individuals and groups have launched coordinated attacks against Tantita Security Services Limited and the Presidential Amnesty Programme (PAP). These attacks are loud, repetitive, and deliberately misleading. But beneath the noise lies something far more troubling: a calculated attempt to erase Ijaw sacrifice from Niger Delta history while continuing to enjoy its benefits.

This is not criticism.

This is not advocacy.

This is hypocrisy at its most dangerous stage.

𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

The Niger Delta did not arrive at its current level of relevance by accident. The relative peace, federal attention, oil production recovery, and infrastructural presence that many communities now enjoy were not gifts from benevolent authorities. They were the outcomes of years of resistance, repression, bloodshed, and sacrifice — sacrifices borne disproportionately by the Ijaw people.

When oil multinationals operated with impunity, it was Ijaw land that was polluted.

When soldiers were deployed, it was Ijaw communities that were occupied.

When youths were criminalised, detained, or killed, it was overwhelmingly Ijaw youths who paid the price.

The struggle that forced Nigeria to listen did not begin in air-conditioned conference rooms. It began in creeks, mangroves, and forgotten villages where children grew up under gunboats and helicopters.

To now see beneficiaries of that struggle — people whose communities today enjoy roads, contracts, appointments, and calm — turn around to attack Ijaw-led initiatives is not only insulting. It is a betrayal of shared history.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐒

The hostility toward Tantita Security Services is rooted in one uncomfortable fact: it has succeeded where others failed.

Pipeline vandalism dropped.

Crude oil theft was curtailed.

National production rebounded.

Local youths were engaged rather than hunted.

These are not opinions. They are outcomes acknowledged even by those who would rather see Tantita fail.

Yet instead of applauding success, critics have chosen a darker path — ethnic framing, sponsored protests, media manipulation, and reckless accusations. Why? Because Tantita disrupted long-standing criminal networks and rent-seeking arrangements that thrived on chaos.

Let it be said plainly: anyone calling for the dismantling of a system that is working must explain who benefits from its failure.

𝐏𝐀𝐏 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊: 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄

The Presidential Amnesty Programme has become another convenient target for the same forces. Every reform is branded “exclusion.” Every attempt at accountability is labelled “bias.” Every leadership decision is politicised.

Those shouting the loudest are often individuals who lost access to unchecked privileges — not youths denied opportunity, not communities abandoned, but middlemen whose relevance depended on disorder.

Peace-building is not comfortable for profiteers of instability.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐉𝐀𝐖 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

This must be understood clearly by all actors in the Niger Delta: the Ijaw people owe no one an apology for their sacrifices.

They fought not because they wanted dominance, but because injustice left them no choice. They stood at the frontline so that others could later negotiate from safer positions. The creeks became battlefields so that the region could have a voice.

Those now pretending to be champions of fairness should ask themselves a simple question:

Would the Niger Delta be enjoying today’s leverage without the Ijaw struggle?

The honest answer frightens them — and that fear fuels their attacks.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

We see the pattern.

We recognise the names.

We understand the motives.

This generation of Ijaw leadership will not be gaslighted, intimidated, or erased. The era when sacrifices could be exploited and then discarded is over.

Let this serve as a clear and serious warning: any attempt to destabilise peace, undermine effective structures, or rewrite history will be firmly resisted — intellectually, socially, and politically.

The Niger Delta must move forward, but it must do so with truth, gratitude, and justice, not selective memory and manufactured outrage.

𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓

Those who believe they can enjoy the fruits of struggle while attacking its custodians should remember this: history has a long memory and a cruel way of calling people to account.

The peace, access, development narratives, contracts, appointments, and relative calm that many communities across the Niger Delta enjoy today did not come without cost. That cost was not abstract. It was paid in burnt homes, shattered villages, displaced families, orphaned children, and unmarked graves — overwhelmingly in Ijaw land.

Let the record be stated plainly, because silence now would amount to complicity.

Across Bayelsa, Delta, and Rivers States, entire Ijaw communities were reduced to ashes in the name of national stability, oil security, and regional peace. Among them were:

Odi (Bayelsa State) — a once-thriving ancient Ijaw town flattened in 1999, its people scattered, its heritage desecrated. Till today, Odi remains a living symbol of collective punishment and unanswered injustice.

Odioma (Bayelsa State):  invaded and destroyed in 2005, its population displaced, its economic life crippled, and its story quietly buried in official silence.

Okerenkoko (Delta State): repeatedly raided and heavily bombarded, homes razed, livelihoods destroyed, all in the name of restoring order.

Kunukunuma (Gbaramatu Kingdom, Delta State): reduced to rubble during military operations, its people forced into exile within their own homeland.

Oporoza (Delta State): The traditional headquarters of Gbaramatu Kingdom, occupied, assaulted, and traumatised despite its cultural and historical significance.

Ayakoromo (Delta State): Invaded, destabilised, and left to recover largely on its own, bearing scars that remain visible to this day.

Tombia, Peremabiri, Egbema-axis communities, and several other creek settlements, names often omitted from official reports but forever etched in the memories of our people.

The painful truth many prefer not to confront is this: most of these communities were never properly rebuilt. No comprehensive reconstruction. No meaningful compensation. No genuine healing process. Families returned to ashes and were told to “move on” in the interest of national unity. And they did  for the sake of peace.

It is from these ashes that today’s Niger Delta stability emerged. It is on this unacknowledged suffering that others now stand to speak of fairness while attacking the very people and structures that helped secure that peace.

The Ijaw people have sacrificed more than is publicly acknowledged.

More than is politically convenient.

More than many are willing to admit.

That sacrifice will not be mocked.

It will not be minimised.

And it will not be traded for cheap applause, selective outrage, or opportunistic activism.

Those pretending not to know should be reminded: communities can be burnt, but memory cannot be destroyed.

History is watching.

And it does not forget.

Comrade Enekorogha Godbless

Coordinator Niger Delta People's Development (NDPD)