By Ademola Lawrence
When the news first broke that students and teachers had been abducted, the nation reacted as expected. Social media erupted with outrage. Television stations ran breaking news coverage. Newspapers led with banner headlines. Political commentators dissected the incident, while citizens demanded answers from the government and security agencies.
It was a moment of collective grief and concern. And rightly so.
But then something remarkable happened.
The victims were rescued and reunited with their families through the efforts of Nigeria’s security agencies. Lives were saved. Families embraced their loved ones again. A tragedy that could have ended in unimaginable loss concluded on a hopeful note.
Yet, one question lingered in my mind:
Where was the noise?
Why did the successful rescue fail to generate the same level of attention as the kidnapping itself? Why did the voices that dominated the conversation during the crisis become comparatively quiet when the story turned positive?
This is not an argument against criticism. Democracies thrive on accountability. Governments must be questioned, institutions must be scrutinized, and citizens must never lower their expectations of those entrusted with public office.
But accountability should never become selective.
If we are loud when the country fails, we should also be loud when the country gets something right. Otherwise, we risk replacing objectivity with partisanship and public interest with political convenience.
The issue extends beyond politics. It speaks to the nature of modern media and social media. Bad news spreads faster because it provokes stronger emotions. Outrage attracts clicks, shares, comments, and engagement. Algorithms reward conflict. As a result, failure often becomes more profitable than success.
This incentive can shape the choices of some commentators, influencers, and political actors. Negative stories tend to receive sustained attention, while positive developments often fade quickly. That does not mean every critic is acting in bad faith, but it does mean we should be aware of how incentives influence public conversation.
Balanced commentary requires consistency. If a security failure deserves criticism, then a successful security operation deserves recognition. Neither response cancels out the other.
Recognizing a successful rescue does not mean declaring victory over insecurity. Nigeria continues to face serious security challenges that require sustained reforms, better intelligence, stronger inter-agency cooperation, and greater protection for citizens.
At the same time, refusing to acknowledge genuine successes paints an incomplete picture. It can undermine public confidence, discourage the dedicated men and women who risk their lives in service, and leave citizens believing that nothing ever improves, even when meaningful progress occurs.
A mature democracy should be able to hold two thoughts at once: to demand better from government and to acknowledge results when they are achieved.
The rescue of the abducted students and teachers was more than a security operation. It was a reminder that good news deserves attention too.
Our national conversation should not be driven solely by what goes wrong. It should also make room for what goes right.
Perhaps the real measure of our commitment to Nigeria is not how loudly we condemn its failures, but whether we are equally willing to recognize its victories.
So I ask again:
The rescue was successful. But where was the noise?
*Ademola Lawrence is the Spokesperson of the Federal Character Commission, FCC.
