The Weight of Silence and the World’s Lost Humanity

"Maybe it’s time we welcome Robots and AI to replace us. Machines may lack compassion, but at least they don’t pretend to possess it."

The Weight of Silence and the World’s Lost Humanity

Kemi Badenoch was recently asked if she still believes in God. She replied, “No, but I am not an atheist—let’s say I’m agnostic, a cultural Christian.” Her words linger as I reflect on a world brimming with faith yet soaked in blood.

Nigeria is one of the most religious countries on Earth—home to millions of Muslims, Christians, and Traditional Worshippers. Most Nigerians anchor their lives to a divine, all-loving God—a God who is compassionate, fair, and good. And yet, in the last year alone, 614,937 Nigerians were killed. Gone. 2.2 million abducted. Men, women, children, stripped of their futures while this same divine silence reigned.

This isn’t a one-time tragedy; it’s a cruel pattern. If we dare to average just 500,000 deaths per year for the past decade, that’s over 5 million lives lost—an unfathomable number. And yet, we call ourselves godly. We call our society religious. But what kind of faith watches innocents fall and speaks nothing of their pain?

Those who refuse to speak up often do so because they benefit—indirectly or directly—from the anguish of others. Killings are only part of the equation. What about poverty, unemployment, starvation? The suffering never ends.

But let’s not pretend this is unique to Nigeria. How many innocent women and children in Gaza, Palestine, Syria, or Lebanon have been buried under rubble? Over 50,000 souls gone. How many lives are shattered in Ukraine, where war refuses to end? How many hearts stop beating in silence while the world looks away?

These deaths weren’t natural—they were taken. Taken by people. Men who masquerade as gods on Earth, wielding power to destroy lives as if they own them. And yet, the heavens remain silent. A God who watches while floods drown children and earthquakes rip apart families might only be reminding us of one truth: free will is sacred. Perhaps it’s so sacred that even divine power refuses to interfere.

This is why I believe humanity has lost its way. The gods we pray to aren’t seated in heaven; they walk among us. Men and women, driven by greed, ego, and power. Heartless enough to take a life without blinking. I dare say, maybe it’s time we welcome robots and AI to replace us. Machines may lack compassion, but at least they don’t pretend to possess it.

Innocent lives are not numbers. They are dreams unfulfilled, laughter silenced, and futures erased. And in this world, where the divine grows quiet, perhaps it is we—humans—who were always meant to bear the weight of each other’s pain.

But we’ve failed. And until we regain our humanity, the silence will persist.

Aderogba Otunla, Ph.D.