The festival, the fear and our fading empathy

By Imisioluwa Afunmiso

Every year, the Ojúdè Ọba festival stands as one of the most remarkable cultural gatherings in Nigeria. It is a colorful display of heritage, unity, fashion, tradition, and pride among the Ijebu people.

The festival has become a global cultural attraction, drawing visitors from across Nigeria and beyond.
Yet, beyond the glamour, horse-riding processions, and social media celebrations, a difficult question lingers: how should a society celebrate when many of its people are living in fear?

The recent abduction of children in Oyo State and the growing wave of insecurity across parts of the South-West have once again exposed the painful realities confronting many Nigerian families. While thousands gathered to celebrate culture, some parents were marking another day without knowing the whereabouts of their children. For such families, every passing day is a reminder of uncertainty, anxiety, and helplessness.

This is not an argument against Ojúdè Ọba or any other cultural festival. Culture remains one of the strongest pillars of identity and social cohesion.

Festivals preserve history, strengthen communal bonds, and provide opportunities for economic activity. They are an important part of who we are.
However, culture should not make us indifferent to suffering. A society’s greatness is measured not only by its ability to celebrate but also by its capacity for empathy. When insecurity becomes a recurring headline and citizens begin to adjust to tragedy as a normal part of life, there is reason for concern.

The larger issue is the growing normalization of insecurity in Nigeria. Kidnappings, violent attacks, and disappearances now occur with alarming frequency. Public outrage often lasts only a few days before attention shifts elsewhere. Families directly affected by these tragedies are left to carry their burdens largely alone while the rest of society moves on.

History reminds us that communities become stronger when citizens refuse to ignore the pain of others. Across different periods in Nigeria’s history, women, traditional institutions, community leaders, and civil society groups have played significant roles in demanding accountability from governments and advocating for the protection of lives and property. Their actions demonstrated that silence is never the answer to societal challenges.

Perhaps the conversation should not be whether Ojúdè Ọba should hold or not. Rather, it should be about how cultural platforms can also become avenues for raising awareness about pressing social issues. Festivals attract attention, influence public discourse, and bring together leaders with the capacity to shape opinions. Such gatherings can serve as powerful reminders that celebration and social responsibility are not mutually exclusive.

As insecurity continues to threaten lives and livelihoods, Nigerians must resist the temptation to become comfortable with pain. We must continue to celebrate our heritage, but we must also remember those whose circumstances deny them the opportunity to celebrate.

A nation that values culture must also value human life. The drums of celebration may beat loudly, but they should never drown out the cries of families waiting for their loved ones to return home.

The challenge before us is simple: to remain human in the face of hardship and to ensure that compassion never becomes a casualty of celebration. Festivals will come and go. The photographs will fade. The social media trends will pass. But the trauma endured by victims of insecurity and their families can last a lifetime.

More importantly, if we as citizens cannot pause to show empathy, compassion, and collective concern when innocent people are abducted, killed, or displaced, how can we expect those in government to treat the crisis with the seriousness it deserves? A society that appears untroubled by its own suffering sends the wrong message to those entrusted with protecting lives and property.

Public sympathy alone will not solve insecurity, but silence and indifference only deepen the problem. Our culture is worth preserving and our traditions are worth celebrating, but our humanity must always come first. For when a people lose the capacity to feel the pain of one another, they risk losing far more than their security, they risk losing their conscience.