A moment for the fallen: Gov. Sule’s silent prayer echoes beyond borders

From Abel Leonard, Lafia 

In a solemn hush that swept the hall like a gentle breeze, Governor Abdullahi Sule of Nasarawa State bowed his head—not in speech, but in silence. For one minute, he offered no policy, no promise—only a prayer. A silent lament for Plateau and Benue, lands too familiar with sorrow.

It was not the typical setting for mourning. The event was celebratory—the graduation of 50 resilient youths from the “Masters of Business on the Streets,” a five-day empowerment program that championed hope. Yet, even hope must pause for grief.

In the midst of applause and beaming smiles, the Governor’s countenance shifted. He called for silence—not out of protocol, but of purpose. His prayer, unspoken yet thunderous, rose beyond the walls of the Ministry of Local Government and Chieftaincy Affairs.

A minute seemed brief to some, yet in that moment, time stood still. The air thickened with reverence. No cameras clicked, no whisper escaped. Even ambition, so abundant in the hearts of the new entrepreneurs, yielded to empathy.

“This silence is not emptiness,” his demeanor seemed to say. “It is filled with names. Of children, mothers, farmers, and dreamers who fell to bullets and blades not of their making.” His silence was a sermon, his stillness a statement.

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Governor Sule’s gesture transcended political boundaries. It was not about Nasarawa alone, but a call for collective conscience. Plateau and Benue—neighbours, siblings in the tapestry of the Middle Belt—deserved more than condolence. They deserved remembrance, and more so, resolution.

As the program resumed, the mood remained softened. The energy returned, but with depth. The graduates held their certificates with pride, yes—but also with a new sense of responsibility. Business, after all, thrives best in peace.

It was a masterclass in leadership—where empathy became part of governance. In a time when silence is rare, Governor Sule chose it not as escape, but as expression. A moment, brief but bold, to honour lives lost in needless violence.

That day, the governor didn’t just endorse entrepreneurship. He endorsed humanity. And in that silent minute, he reminded all that even amidst celebration, the cries of the bereaved must not go unheard.

For Plateau and Benue, that prayer may not end the pain. But in the language of silence, it spoke volumes—about unity, compassion, and the unbreakable bond of shared grief.