Nwanyiagbani

AN OPEN LETTER TO OGBEKE AND UKURUTA AUTONOMOUS COMMUNITY

My beloved people of OGBEKE AND UKURUTA AUTONOMOUS COMMUNITY,

Today, I write this with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes.

Our community transformer — the very source of light for our homes, our children’s studies, our businesses, and our security — has been vandalized repeatedly. It was tampered with many times, and nothing was done. Now, it has been completely stolen.

And we are quiet.

How did we get here?

A transformer is not a small object. It is a symbol of development. It is a symbol of progress. It is light. And when light is stolen, darkness takes over — not just physical darkness, but moral darkness.

When evil continues in a community without consequences, it grows bold. When thieves operate freely, it means they are confident. Confident that nobody will question them. Confident that nobody will act. Confident that silence will protect them.

But silence is not protection.
Silence is permission.

What will this cost us?

• Our children will suffer in darkness.
• Businesses will collapse.
• Insecurity will increase.
• Generators will replace progress.

And worst of all — we will become a laughing stock to neighboring communities.

Why is it that whenever someone rises to speak the truth, they are attacked? Why is it that those who genuinely want progress are labeled as troublemakers? Why has leadership become something that cannot be questioned?

True leadership protects.
True leadership listens.
True leadership acts.

When a community begins to fight the voices that cry for change, that community begins to fight its own future.

I weep for OGBEKE AND UKURUTA.

Not because the transformer was stolen.
But because our unity was stolen long ago.

If we do not rise now — together — to demand accountability, security, and proper action, this will not be the last thing we lose.

Today it is a transformer.
Tomorrow it may be something worse.

Let us remember: A community that tolerates small evil will one day be destroyed by bigger evil.

This is not an attack.
This is a cry.
A cry from a son of the soil who loves his land.

May we find courage.
May we find unity.
May we find light again.

— An Indigen Who Refuses to Be Silent
EVANG. WISDOM OZOEMENAM ANI