“There are so many murders in Nigeria right now. This was Father Samuel Oyetoro from the Catholic Diocese of Lokoja in the neighboring state of Kogi,” writes Sister Dr. Mary Rose-Claret Ogbuehi, founder of the local aid organization Women Empowerment through Education (WETE) in Nigeria’s Enugu State. “He was murdered on July 29. His body showed signs of machete wounds.”

A portrait of him has been circulating on social media since the beginning of August. Sharing his photo and a brief mention of his fate is usually accompanied by a remembrance of the large number of Christian victims of terrorism in Nigeria; these now number in the tens of thousands.

On July 26, 2026, a radicalized gang of Fulani pastoralists, a predominantly Muslim ethnic group, attacked the village of Naridon (Kauru District) in Kaduna State. They arrived shortly before midnight and massacred 30 Christians, including 11 children. Part of Kaduna lies in Nigeria’s so-called Middle Belt, a region from which we frequently receive reports of massacres, not only of Christians, but mostly perpetrated by jihadist groups. On the night of July 12, at least ten people were killed in an armed, nighttime attack—accompanied by arson—in the village of Nobi (Otukpo District) in Benue State . Similar acts of violence occurred a few hours earlier in Plateau State, where on July 11, nine members of a Christian family were murdered. Surviving witnesses reported that the perpetrators claimed grazing land and demanded the incorporation of the area into a caliphate.

The attacks occur not only along religious but also ethnic lines, and are driven, not least, by tangible economic gains that these herding gangs seek by driving the local farming population from their land. At the same time, many perpetrators give the impression of fighting for a “just,” “higher” cause—namely, the cause of “Islam.” In this way, they can fuel a flight response among Christians. Indeed, many gangs have now dedicated themselves to jihad, incited by Islamist itinerant preachers who first appeared there toward the end of the 20th century.

The Nigerian state has repeatedly been accused, both by the population and by foreign governments, of failing to effectively protect its Christian population. At the funeral of the victims of the attack on the village of Naridon on July 26, the Catholic Bishop of Kafanchan, Julius Yakubu Kundi, sharply criticized the government, accusing it of abandoning the people. The behavior of the security forces demonstrates the effect of religiously motivated terrorism: among Muslims, the fighters often achieve a fearful turning a blind eye.

In the state of Enugu, ISHR board member Obiora Ike is active, as is Sister Claret, mentioned earlier, whom we met through him. There, a recent incident demonstrated the importance of decisive action against attackers. In the village of Inoyi-Affa (Udi district), on August 2, 2026, at least half a dozen armed men attacked the Catholic parish church of St. Joseph. The perpetrators took three of the parishioners gathered there for Sunday Mass hostage. The police intervened quickly, and during the manhunt, one hostage managed to escape. The other two Christians were freed about a week later, and the kidnappers were apprehended.

Students supported by the ISHR during a photo break during their most recent internship in July 2026 © WETE

Christians, who make up around 40 percent of Nigeria’s population of 230 to 240 million, cannot hide from the jihadists. Their institutions are easy to locate and have already been targeted by the tens of thousands. If they want to preserve their identity, they have only two options: flight or bravely endure. The ISHR (International Society for Human Rights) has been supporting refugees and remaining survivors for more than 20 years, particularly through its support of WETE (World Equality and Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership).

“We help girls and women who have survived jihadist attacks and subsequently face destitution by providing psychological support, vocational training and start-up assistance. At the Nazareth Vocational School in Enugu, southern Nigeria, the students acquire practical skills as well as the knowledge needed to run a small business,” wrote Sister Claret.

The ISHR (International Society for Human Rights) has pledged to continue covering the costs of these programmes, amounting to approximately €350 per training place each year, thereby helping to provide affected women and girls with practical prospects for greater independence and a more secure future.