Ginger

Photo by Emma Ou on Unsplash

By Ramatu Ada Ochekliye

Shiana stirred her pot of stew as it simmered on the cooker. The stew wasn't as red as she loved it, but this would have to do. Her spoon flitted around the chunks of meat, noting the spaces where she used to have more. She took the spoon out, hit it on the edge of the pot to get most of the stew back in, then she carefully placed what was left in the middle of her palm. She raised her palm to her mouth and licked the stew off.

The taste test.

And oooh! Did the stew taste delicious! Her brother and parent were going to enjoy Sunday rice when they returned from church.

Shiana smiled, satisfied. She had tried a new recipe for the stew. She blended the tomatoes, peppers, onions, and garlic with some carrots. She also marinated the goat meat with some yoghurt (and her awesome blend of spices) for three days before using it. Oh. She remembered how her mother complained about how wasteful she was and whether she thought she was the daughter of a rich family. But Shiana had seen the recipe from her favorite creator and knew she just had to try it. They were poor, but they could afford some spices, lots of fresh vegetables from their home garden, and a small amount of yoghurt wasn't too much for them. She was sure the meat would fall apart easily and taste like a slice of heaven.

Shiana tasted the stew again, allowing her taste buds time to savor it before swallowing. The meat and broth it was cooked in tasted rich, and when she added it to the fried tomato mix, it elevated it to god-level greatness. The garlic was just the right amount of pungent. The sweetness of the tomato was deepened by the carrots, and the peppers were spicy enough that her family would be sniffing as they ate. Did she maybe overdo it with the pepper? Shiana pondered as she turned off the cooker. She dipped the spoon one more time in the pot, got a bit on her hand, and licked again. No. The pepper was just right. Her family would love it.

But something was missing.

Ginger.

Shiana sighed. She hadn't been able to afford ginger for nearly a year now. What used to be N200 now retails for N5,000. And the problem began – or more appropriately, escalated – when farming communities (including theirs) were getting attacked by bandits ever so often. With each attack, communities would be displaced, and if they dared to return, they would be settling just in time for the next attack. As it got worse, fewer farmers returned.

Shiana sighed again.

She remembered how she learned about ginger farming the first time they took a family trip to her village in Benue State. She had asked her father about the rows and rows of green shrubs, and he explained that people in her village used to prepare the land just before the rains and plant the ginger rhizomes during the rainy season. And because she had been so curious, her father told her the uses of ginger – in food and medicine – and the fact that Nigeria was one of the biggest producers of ginger in the world. He also shared how the leaves turned yellow when the ginger was ready for harvest, usually eight to ten months after they were planted.

Shiana couldn't visualize this green field turning yellow and expressed her dismay at not seeing it. Her father laughed. “I promise I will bring you here when it is time for harvest,” he had promised. Shiana remembered how ecstatic she had been as she danced around her father.

She remembered her father's laughter that day. And she sighed again.

He was the reason they had come to the village again. This was the tenth anniversary of his death, and her mother suggested they come home to commemorate the event. This was the first time they had come since he was buried. His death, after being kidnapped and killed while travelling to the village to check on their farm's progress, had taken a toll on them. He didn't deserve to die like that: beaten, bruised, filmed, and paraded on social media to the mocking laughter of his killers. And for what? Being a different tribe? Being a farmer? Refusing to let cattle graze on his farms?

The tears welled up in Shiana's eyes. Even though the pain had lessened over the years, being home and missing ginger in her pot of stew was beginning to feel like her undoing.

Shiana blinked back the tears, coming back to reality and the hissing sound near her. She panicked a little and flung open the pot. The rice still had some way to go. Phewww. If she had burned it, her mother would have had one more thing to complain about.

Her mother.

Shiana sighed yet again. Since her father died, her mother had become a shell of herself. She became bitter, angry at the wanton murder of her husband, the exploitation by the police as she tried to get justice, the silence of the government as what started as farmer-herder clashes grew and grew until whole villages were being razed to the ground and entire families were being wiped out by marauding forces. Her mother was angry about the economic downturn that had eroded the quiet wealth of her people.

While Shiana and her brother Terver often faced her constant complaining, they understood their mother. They used to be rich-rich. Her father didn't just farm: he processed the ginger and exported both raw and refined products to many countries. Sunday rice used to mean huge chunks of chicken or goat, or beef in their stew. But after his death and the constant attacks on their farmers and land, the export was the first to go. Then the processing unit. Farming ginger became a chore. And soon enough, they were not making enough to continue farming on a large scale. And since they didn't know when another attack was imminent, a bulk of the land was left to fallow. Eventually, no one wanted to risk their lives to farm for them anymore. And for the last three years, they had not farmed ginger.

Shiana turned off the cooker. Lunch was finally ready.

“Mama, Terver… are you ready to eat?” Shiana shouted, then started. Who was she asking? They were not back from church. Where was her head today? She scoffed and started packing the food into serving dishes. They should be back any time soon, she mused.

Her mind registered raised voices in the distance. Someone was screaming. Shiana wondered who was fighting on a Sunday. Wasn't it too hot for all of that?

And then she heard the agonizing sound of people running, followed by the unmistakable sound of bullets piercing the air. She dropped the tray she was holding, shattering the ceramic dishes that held the rice and stew, and scattering their contents everywhere.

Shiana was petrified. “God, please let it not be what I am thinking.” She pleaded, frozen at the spot. The sound of the bullets, coupled with the heavy-duty vans that were overspeeding, and the screams of her townspeople confirmed her worst fears.

They were under attack.

Before she could register more than this thought, a car rammed into their gate, bringing it down, and five men ran into her compound, shooting sporadically at any and everything.

Shiana felt a sharp pain in her stomach and looked down. She had been hit. “Thank God,” she thought as she started what seemed like a slow fall to the ground. She would rather die than be taken by these savages like her father was. Since the day she watched the video of how her father was slaughtered, she prayed that if she were ever in that situation, let God make her death a quick one. As she landed on the ground, face mashed against the spilled rice and stew and her blood turning the stew the red she had wanted, a small, final smile inched its way across her face.

God was listening after all.

As Shiana faded away, her last thought was that she hoped her mother and brother escaped this and found the strength to process her death.

***

They didn't.

They were just about to enter the house when the attack began. They were one of the first casualties of the terrorists, and by the time their act was done, the whole village had been wiped out, marking yet another village in Benue State to be destroyed.

***

In recent days, Benue State has once again been thrown into mourning following a fresh wave of brutal attacks across several communities, the most talked about being one that happened on June 13, 2025. It is estimated that more than 200 people were killed in a series of coordinated assaults. The violence triggered outrage and grief, prompting hundreds to take to the streets in Makurdi, the state capital, to protest the government’s perceived inaction.

Here are some facts about the effect of this killing on the people and the country at large:

• Scale of Casualties: Over 200 people have been killed in recent attacks, contributing to a staggering total of 1,043 deaths in Benue State alone between May 2023 and May 2025, according to Beacon Security and Intelligence Limited.

• Widespread Displacement: Thousands of residents have been displaced, forced to flee their homes with little more than what they can carry. Many are now seeking refuge in overcrowded IDP camps with limited access to food, water, and healthcare.

• Rooted in Farmer-Herder Conflict: The violence stems largely from clashes between nomadic herders and local farming communities. The herders move southward in search of pasture, often clashing with farmers over land use and resources. However, this cannot just be farmer-herder clashes. Witnesses have said terrorists attack their villages with weaponry that is incredibly sophisticated, betraying the role external factors are playing in the conflict.

• Religious and Ethnic Tensions: The conflict is complicated by religious and ethnic divisions, as the herders are predominantly Fulani and Muslim, while most farming communities in Benue are Christian. These layers of identity heighten mistrust and make reconciliation more difficult.

• Government's Response Under Scrutiny: Despite efforts like the 2018 joint security task force and the recent deployment of Forest Guards, critics argue that the federal and state governments have failed to deliver lasting security or policy solutions. Public confidence remains low.

The conflict in Benue is not just about land; it is about survival. With increasing population pressures, environmental decline, and economic hardship, the stakes are high for both farmers and herders. Unfortunately, in the absence of a clear policy on grazing and land use, violence often becomes the default response.

And while herders are often blamed for the violence, it is important to note that the conflict is not one-sided. Community leaders, including Fulani representatives, have denied involvement in the recent killings and emphasized unresolved grievances on all sides. This points to a broader issue of mistrust and the need for impartial investigations.

There is also the issue of justice. Many victims' families say they have seen no accountability. Perpetrators of past violence walk free, and this impunity encourages further attacks. Until justice is served, any peace effort is likely to remain fragile. 

The impact of this conflict reaches far beyond individual tragedy — it undermines entire sectors of Nigeria’s economy. Ginger, a high-value cash crop with immense local and international demand, is increasingly threatened. With major ginger-producing communities under attack, farming has slowed, processing plants have shut down, and exports have dwindled. What once supported families and local economies is now a symbol of loss.

The erosion of ginger farming is a reflection of a broader food security crisis. As farmers abandon their land out of fear, fewer crops are grown, and market prices soar. If left unchecked, the violence in agricultural regions like Benue threatens not only livelihoods but also the ability of Nigeria to feed itself. Without urgent and strategic action, the red stew on many Nigerian tables may be the last reminder of what once was.

This is why many analysts say a solution must be multi-pronged. Security presence must be increased, but there also needs to be economic investment, grazing route policies, climate resilience planning, and robust community engagement. Only then can the cycle of violence begin to break.

And at Shades of Us, we agree.