_By Shu’aibu Usman Leman_
As journalists, we are trained not merely to read words, but to interrogate meaning, intent and consequence. This skill is most vital when examining government budgets, which often reveal truths that official speeches carefully avoid. Budgets are political and moral documents; they show what leaders value when resources are limited and choices are unavoidable.
The 2026 budget of the Zamfara State Government offers such a revealing moment. Among its allocations is a provision of ₦1 billion for the construction of ultramodern cemeteries. On paper, this may appear to be a routine public works project. In reality, it has triggered widespread concern and justified outrage.
Zamfara is not a state enjoying peace and stability. It is one of Nigeria’s most insecurity-ravaged regions, plagued for years by banditry, mass killings, abductions and displacement. Any serious discussion of public spending in the state must begin with this grim reality.
Entire communities have been uprooted, villages emptied and livelihoods destroyed. Thousands of citizens now live in fear, either displaced or trapped in areas where state authority is weak or absent. This is not a temporary emergency; it is a prolonged crisis.
For many residents, insecurity is not an abstract policy issue but a daily lived experience. It determines when people farm, trade, travel or send their children to school. Life in many parts of Zamfara is organised around fear rather than opportunity.
In rural areas, the sound of motorcycles often provokes panic rather than familiarity. Forests that once supported agriculture and commerce have become sanctuaries for armed groups. Civilians remain exposed, while attackers operate with alarming confidence.
It is within this context that the cemetery budget must be judged. Public policy cannot be separated from circumstance. What may be uncontroversial in a peaceful society becomes deeply problematic in a state overwhelmed by violence.
The announcement of the cemetery allocation was met with disbelief by many citizens. The question repeatedly asked was simple and damning, is the government preparing for more deaths instead of preventing them? That question has not been adequately answered.
The symbolism of an ultramodern cemetery is difficult to ignore. Such infrastructure suggests expectation and permanence. It implies a future in which death remains routine rather than exceptional.
This is not to argue that cemeteries are unnecessary or illegitimate. Every society must bury its dead with dignity, and governments have a role in providing public burial spaces. Respect for the dead is not in dispute.
What is in dispute is timing, scale and priority. When people are dying violently and needlessly, the primary duty of the state is to secure life. All other development goals are secondary to this fundamental obligation.
₦1 billion is not a marginal sum. In a state confronting severe insecurity, it represents an opportunity to strengthen security architecture, improve intelligence, support victims and stabilise vulnerable communities.
Instead, the allocation appears to address consequences rather than causes. This approach reflects a pattern of governance that reacts to failure instead of preventing it. Over time, such patterns become institutionalised.
This is how public trust erodes. Citizens begin to feel that their leaders are more comfortable managing loss than confronting danger. Condolence replaces courage, and routine replaces urgency.
As a former National Secretary of the Nigeria Union of Journalists, I understand the power of perception in public affairs. Governments may insist on good intentions, but citizens judge outcomes. When policy choices appear detached from lived reality, legitimacy suffers.
People are not demanding miracles. They are demanding effort, empathy and seriousness. They want leadership that fights for their survival, not one that quietly adjusts to their deaths.
What message does this budget send to farmers afraid to return to their land? What reassurance does it offer parents anxious about their children’s safety? To many, it sounds like indifference wrapped in bureaucracy.
The Zamfara cemetery budget ultimately exposes a deeper problem which is a failure of governance imagination. When a state confronted with mass violence prioritises burial infrastructure over security, it reveals an alarming poverty of strategic thinking.
There is no modern governance logic that places ultramodern cemeteries above human security in a conflict-ridden environment. Such prioritisation reflects leadership trapped in reaction rather than prevention, symbolism rather than substance.
This is where the issue of backwardness becomes unavoidable.
Backwardness is not merely a lack of infrastructure; it is the inability to identify urgent problems and respond intelligently. A state that plans extensively for burials while failing to secure lives is not merely underperforming—it is misgoverned.
Leadership is defined by the problems it chooses to confront first. In Zamfara, this budget choice suggests a political culture that has normalised failure and adjusted expectations downward rather than rising to the demands of crisis.
No serious government battling insecurity should be discussing ultramodern cemeteries at this scale. Serious governments prioritise territorial control, intelligence, justice and protection of civilians. Anything less amounts to a quiet admission of defeat.
This budget line is not just a policy error; it is a statement of values. It tells citizens that the state is prepared to bury them efficiently, but not to defend them effectively. That is a devastating message in any society.
Zamfara deserves leadership that understands that development begins with security and dignity. Modernity is not measured by concrete or aesthetics, but by the value placed on human life and the courage to protect it.
In the final analysis, a government that prioritises graves over governance has failed its most basic responsibility. The true test of leadership is not how well it organises burial grounds, but how determined it is to ensure that fewer graves are needed at all.
_Shu’aibu Usman Leman is a former National Secretary of Nigeria Union of Journalists-NUJ_
