Borno 23 Dead — Where is Bola Ahmed Tinubu? And Would Keir Starmer Still Be in Nigeria If the Tables Were Turned?
Somewhere between the polished streets of London and the dusty, grief-soaked communities of Borno State, a question hangs in the humid Nigerian air like a generator cough: Who exactly is minding the house?
Twenty-three people dead. Again. The numbers arrive like routine text alerts now—sanitized, numeric, almost polite. No names. No faces. Just “23.” It’s the kind of number that fits neatly into a government statement and disappears just as neatly into the next news cycle.
Meanwhile, Nigeria’s Commander-in-Chief, Bola Ahmed Tinubu, is reportedly still in the United Kingdom. Perhaps discussing investment. Perhaps resting. Perhaps explaining to British hosts that Nigeria is, in fact, “open for business”—though increasingly, the business seems to be insecurity.
The Optics Olympics
Let’s be honest: leadership is sometimes less about where you are and more about how it looks that you are there.
Right now, it looks like this:
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Citizens in Borno: running, hiding, burying loved ones
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Federal Government: issuing statements
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President: abroad
It’s not illegal. It’s not unprecedented. But it is… cinematically unfortunate.
In a country where perception often outweighs policy, optics are everything. And the optics right now are giving: “We regret to inform you the pilot has stepped out of the cockpit.”
The Starmer Thought Experiment
Now imagine a parallel universe.
In that universe, the UK faces a deadly coordinated attack in, say, Manchester. Casualties mount. Panic spreads.
And then we learn that the British Prime Minister, Keir Starmer, is in Abuja attending a cultural festival, sampling jollof rice, and promising to strengthen bilateral ties.
Would he stay?
Would the British public tolerate it?
Or would the next flight out of Nnamdi Azikiwe International Airport be carrying one very hurried Prime Minister back home—tie loosened, face tense, rehearsing lines about “national resolve”?
Nigeria: The Land of Perpetual Statements
Nigeria has mastered one thing to perfection: the official statement.
“We condemn in strong terms…”
“Security agencies have been directed…”
“Perpetrators will be brought to justice…”
At this point, if statements could fight insurgency, Nigeria would be the safest country on Earth.
But insurgents, unfortunately, do not read press releases.
The Geography of Absence
Distance matters.
There is something deeply symbolic about presence. A president in Borno—even briefly—signals urgency. It says: This matters. You matter.
Absence, on the other hand, whispers something else:
We will get to it.
In a nation battling insurgency, banditry, kidnappings, and the occasional existential crisis, “we will get to it” is not exactly reassuring.
The Nigerian Coping Mechanism
Of course, Nigerians will do what Nigerians do best:
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Turn tragedy into memes
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Turn frustration into jokes
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Turn despair into dark humor
Somewhere online, someone is already tweeting:
“Nigeria is on autopilot. Unfortunately, turbulence dey.”
Leadership in the Age of Distance
To be fair, governance in 2026 is not bound by geography. A president can issue orders from anywhere. Zoom calls exist. Secure lines exist.
But leadership is not just about commands—it is about presence, timing, and sometimes, simply showing up.
Because when people are dying, what they often want most is not a policy paper.
They want to know someone is there.
Final Thought: The Real Question
This is not really about travel. Presidents travel. Diplomacy matters.
The real question is simpler—and more uncomfortable:
At what point does absence become indifference in the eyes of the people?
Until that question is answered, the headlines will keep writing themselves:
“Another attack. Another statement. Another distance.”
And somewhere in Borno, far from the corridors of power and the calm of London, the number will rise again—
not as statistics,
but as lives.