Atlantic Post

Gunmen tore through Angwan Rukuba in Jos North on Sunday night, leaving casualty figures disputed, a 48-hour curfew in force, and Plateau once again on the edge.

Residents of Angwan Rukuba in Jos North Local Government Area woke on Monday to a grim question that has become far too familiar in Plateau State: how many were killed this time, and who will be held accountable? Police confirmed that 12 people died in the attack, while other early reports put the toll higher, underscoring the confusion that often follows mass killings in the state. 

Eyewitness accounts paint the same picture of sudden, organised violence. Residents told Premium Times that the attackers arrived at a local beer parlour on Sunday evening, blended in with other customers, and then opened fire. One witness said the assault began around 8pm and that the gunmen fled through nearby routes after the shooting stopped. Another resident, a University of Jos lecturer, said the men emerged from a vehicle and fired without provocation. 

The Plateau State Police Command later confirmed the scale of the bloodshed. In a statement quoted by PUNCH, the command said 12 people were killed, naming 10 men and two women, and added that two more corpses were found during bush combing operations as security teams hunted the suspects. The police also said the attack began at about 8.30pm, showing just how quickly the violence overwhelmed the area. 

Authorities responded by slamming a 48-hour curfew across Jos North. The state government said the measure began at midnight on 29 March and would run until 1 April, describing the attack as a tragic security incident and saying it was meant to restore calm and prevent fresh violence. Governor Caleb Mutfwang condemned the killings as “barbaric and unprovoked” and ordered security agencies to track down the perpetrators. 

The shock spread immediately beyond the crime scene. The University of Jos said it had rescheduled examinations set for Monday and Tuesday because of the “consequential tensions” created by the attack, while warning students and staff to stay vigilant and avoid unnecessary movement. That decision shows how quickly violence in Jos North now spills into education, transport and daily commerce. 

What makes this latest massacre especially disturbing is the gap in casualty counts. Police said 12 were dead. AP reported that residents and authorities said at least 20 had been killed. Reuters said at least 13 died. Vanguard reported that police had put the toll at 14, while community leaders feared as many as 27 dead. The disagreement is not a side issue. It is evidence of the chaos that follows attacks in communities where the state often arrives after the damage is done. That is an inference, but a hard one to escape from the figures now in circulation. 

The wider security picture in Plateau remains bleak. AP said the attacks form part of a long-running cycle of violence in north-central Nigeria, where clashes over land and grazing often intersect with criminal violence. Reuters likewise placed the latest killings in the context of a region long plagued by deadly farmer-herder conflict. Neither outlet reported any claim of responsibility, and the absence of a named group only deepens fears that the area remains exposed to repeat attacks by mobile armed gangs. 

For Plateau residents, the real outrage is not only the scale of the killing, but the regularity of it. A curfew can freeze movement for a day or two. It cannot, on its own, answer the deeper questions now hanging over Jos North: how the attackers moved so freely, why the community was so vulnerable, and why a state that has seen years of repeated massacres still struggles to stop the next one before it starts.