Who killed Thomas Zamfara? A year on, silence speaks louder than promises

One year after the killing of Thomas Zamfara, the questions remain as loud as ever  and the answers, disturbingly, absent.

Zamfara was not just another name lost to violence. He was a political ally of Senator Iya Abbas, who represents Adamawa Central, and a close associate of the Speaker of the Adamawa State House of Assembly, Wesley Bathiya. His death shook political circles and drew an outpouring of grief from those who knew him best.

At his burial, grief was raw and public. Tears rolled freely down the cheeks of Iya Abbas and Wesley Bathiya. In that moment of mourning, they made solemn promises  pledges that justice would be pursued relentlessly, that those responsible would be brought to account.

But a year later, those promises now ring hollow.

There has been no closure. No arrests that inspire confidence. No clear communication to the public. Instead, there is a deafening silence not just from the authorities, but from the very individuals who once vowed not to rest until justice was served.

What has changed?

The killers of Thomas Zamfara are, by all indications, still walking free. The urgency that once defined the response to his death appears to have faded into the background of political convenience. The same voices that once spoke with passion and resolve are now muted.

This silence raises uncomfortable questions.

What is stopping those with influence and proximity men like Iya Abbas and Wesley Bathiya from pushing harder for answers? Why has the momentum for justice stalled? And more troubling still: has the pursuit of justice been quietly sacrificed on the altar of politics?

In a society already grappling with a crisis of accountability, cases like this deepen public distrust. When high-profile allies cannot secure justice for one of their own, what hope remains for ordinary citizens?

The memory of Thomas Zamfara deserves more than ceremonial grief and fading headlines. It demands action, transparency and persistence.

A year is a long time to wait for justice.

It is also long enough for silence to begin to look like complicity.