A decade has passed since the harrowing abduction of 276 schoolgirls from Chibok, Nigeria, an act that gripped the world’s attention.
While some of these girls returned home, around 80 still remain missing, casting a long shadow over the community.
Struggles of Survivors
For those who managed to escape or were freed, the battle is far from over.
Many survivors confide feelings of regret about their return, often believing that their situations have become increasingly challenging since they left captivity.
One survivor shared her inner turmoil: having given birth to two children while being held hostage, she now questions whether coming back home was the right choice.
Sadly, the Nigerian church’s efforts to support these survivors fall short.
Lacking vital resources and a thorough understanding of trauma, many congregations struggle to offer essential services like protection, justice, and trauma care.
This gap has left local Christian communities reaching out for help from their international counterparts, whose motivations initially surged following the Chibok incident but have since dwindled.
The interreligious conflicts in Nigeria have roots stretching back through history.
An example can be traced back to 1797 when a 13-year-old girl, Neali, became a victim of Muslim extremists on trails once plagued by Fulani jihadists.
Her tragic story underscores the long-standing vulnerabilities faced by young females in this region.
The Role of the Church
In contemporary times, survivors like Hauwa Ishaya voice their sorrow over the lost fate of their fellow captives, often feeling overlooked and unheard.
Amina Ali, another survivor, wrestles with her daughter’s challenging inquiries about identity—further revealing the emotional scars these experiences have left behind.
It’s crucial to understand that addressing the pain and stigma of such trauma demands more than government aid or secular counseling; it calls for a compassionate and holistic approach from the church that can confront both psychological wounds and societal shame.
However, the church’s approach to these calamities often has its limits.
Initial responses may comprise prayer and fundraising, yet these efforts typically fade away after a short time.
This fleeting attention is echoed in incidents like the tragic death of a theological seminary student, where the communal mourning quickly dissolved into silence, leaving victims and their families in obscurity.
Compounding the issue is the tendency among some churchgoers to associate survivors’ plights with personal shortcomings, mirroring judgments reminiscent of Jesus’ disciples in biblical narratives.
Such a viewpoint can make survivors feel as though they are to blame for the trauma they endured, complicating their reintegration into society.
It’s also important to recognize that not every kidnapping is rooted in religious extremism.
As John Joseph Hayab from Kaduna points out, the motives behind these abductions are varied; some stem from financial gain, while others are fueled by ideological beliefs.
Boko Haram, in particular, uses its extremist views to rationalize violence, especially against girls, perpetuating a cycle of horror.
Holistic Support for Survivors
Looking back at historical responses to child abduction in West Africa, particularly during colonial eras, offers important lessons for today.
Organizations like the Sudan United Mission once collaborated with local authorities to rehabilitate children liberated from slavery, providing comprehensive care that addressed spiritual, psychological, and physical needs.
This holistic support helped survivors not only heal but also reintegrate into society as respected individuals.
Today, a similar approach is crucial for the Nigerian church.
Addressing the stigma surrounding women who suffer sexual violence is imperative.
Many conservative communities perpetuate harmful traditions that alienate women who find themselves pregnant outside of marriage, even in cases of rape.
For churches wishing to genuinely assist survivors, prioritizing trauma-informed counseling is essential.
Unfortunately, access to mental health resources is limited in Nigeria, and many pastors lack training in trauma care.
There is an urgent need for church leaders to seek out training and resources, possibly in partnership with international organizations.
Moreover, the church must work together with government initiatives designed to aid former captives.
A previously launched educational program aimed at helping kidnapped girls achieved limited success.
By fostering stronger collaboration between church leaders and educational institutions, they could create more effective strategies for emotional and spiritual healing.
Another significant hurdle is the relationship the church shares with moderate Muslim communities.
Misunderstandings and stereotypes have hindered potential alliances among those who stand against extremism.
By cultivating a clearer understanding of their Muslim neighbors, Nigerian Christians might build partnerships that advance peace and counter violence more effectively.
For those abroad supporting the Nigerian church, focusing on empowering local activists instead of simply providing funds will yield more lasting change.
Strengthening grassroots capabilities enables local communities to advocate for their own needs and rights.
In the end, the church should aspire to be a safe haven for survivors, where their experiences are acknowledged and validated.
Their stories, much like those of individuals who have found redemption, deserve to be heard and honored, ensuring that their faith remains a source of strength in the face of adversity.
With dedicated support and commitment, Nigeria has the potential to shift from a nation marred by violence against its Christian communities to one where the church emerges as a beacon of healing and hope.
Godwin Adeboye (Ph.D.) serves as a pastor and theologian with the Evangelical Church Winning All (ECWA), a Nigerian denomination.
Source: Christianitytoday
