By Ishaya Inuwa Durkwa
The rains had been falling for days—heavy, unrelenting, and with a strange rhythm that spoke more of warning than blessing. They have brought us once again into a cycle of repeated flooding. Across different parts of the state, the air smelled of wet earth and uncertainty. Mothers gathered their children closer. Farmers stood at the edge of their fields, watching helplessly as water swallowed young crops. Roads became rivers. Homes turned into islands.
This is not a new story for Adamawa. We have lived it before. We live in a land of beauty and challenge, where the Benue River, the Gongola River, and the Yedseram River all converge—each carrying the gift of water but also the burden of floods. The Benue cuts through the heart of the state, the Gongola flows in from the northwest, and the Yedseram meanders from the northeast near the Mandara Mountains. Together, they make our land fertile, but when the rains are heavy and the dams overflow, they remind us of our vulnerability.
Our geography, combined with a changing climate, makes flooding almost inevitable. The steep slopes of our highlands pour water quickly into the low-lying plains. And in the cities, where drains are clogged with waste or where houses block water channels, the risk only grows. Sometimes, it is not just nature—it is also our own hands shaping the disaster.
The statistics tell a sobering story:
September 2022 – Torrential rains, worsened by the release of water from Cameroon’s Lagdo Dam, submerged over 30,000 km², flooding 153 communities, displacing 131,638 people, and claiming 25 lives.
October 2023 – Another round of flooding killed 33 people, displaced over 51,000, and destroyed farmlands across multiple LGAs.
August–September 2024 – Heavy rains and dam overflows flooded large areas again, pushing thousands from their homes, damaging roads, and wiping out crops just before harvest.
July 2025 – Flash floods struck Yola South and other LGAs, killing 25 people and displacing 5,560 individuals in just a few days.
This is not a random occurrence—it is a pattern. A dangerous, costly pattern. Each flood does more than destroy—it takes our loved ones, drains our resources into emergency relief instead of development, and steals years of progress in just a few days. Every bag of rice given in welfare could have been a bag of cement for a school. Every life lost is an irreplaceable gap in our community.
Yet, even as the waters rise, we are not without hope. The truth is, the state government has already begun work to address this. The governor has taken steps by opening up drainage systems, clearing water channels, and building systems to manage the flow. These efforts matter, but they must not stop here. They must be complemented, strengthened, and continued until we can stand together and say: Flooding no longer takes us backward.
But here is what we must remember—floods are not just a government problem; they are our problem. That means our solution must be collective. We can learn to live smarter with our rivers by keeping drains clear, refusing to build on waterways, planting trees to hold the soil, and listening to early warnings. We can form local flood committees ready to act before the waters come. We can teach our children not just how to survive floods, but how to prevent them.
Adamawa’s story is not one of defeat—it is one of resilience. We are farmers who return to the land after the waters recede. Traders who rebuild their stalls. Families who open their doors to shelter neighbours. Each act of kindness, each moment of preparation, each voice calling for a better plan is a brick in the wall of our shared safety.
And so, as we stand in this moment—wet roads, full rivers, anxious hearts—let us remember: the floods will pass, but the choice we make now will decide what remains after. If we work together, support and strengthen the measures already begun, and commit to not just reacting but preparing, Adamawa will not just survive the floods.
Let me end with a prayer from the depths of my heart: God Almighty, we lift before You the people of Adamawa who have lost farms, homes, loved ones, and possessions in these floods. May Your hand of comfort wipe away every tear, Your power bring healing to broken hearts, and Your mercy restore all that has been lost. We pray for our governor in this time of crisis—grant him wisdom to lead with justice, strength to stand with courage, and health to carry the burdens of leadership. Lord, bless Adamawa State with peace, protection, and prosperity, and let the rains that fall bring life, not destruction. Amen.
We will rise above them.
SAHEL REPORTERS NEWS
Amen
Amen. This too, shall pass with good leadership