The Human Cost of War

By Lawrence Hope Oghale

When I hear about war, I no longer think only of guns and soldiers. I think of frightened children, mothers searching for their children and families who have lost everything.

One place that pains me deeply is Gaza. Since the war began in October 2023, civilians have endured death, displacement and the destruction of homes and essential services. What troubles me most is that children who know nothing about politics are forced to live with the consequences of political decisions.
The United States and Germany, among other countries, have provided support to Israel. I am not suggesting that every country that supports an ally is responsible for everything that ally does. But when powerful countries provide military support during a war, they also have a responsibility to consider how that support is being used and its consequences for civilians.

Then I think of Ukraine.

On September 9, 2026, reports said Russian drones struck a border crossing between Ukraine and Moldova, killing two civilians. A day earlier, attacks on Kyiv reportedly killed people and damaged homes, a school and a clinic.

Russia’s leadership bears responsibility for the consequences of its invasion of Ukraine. Whatever political explanations are offered, ordinary Ukrainians continue to pay the price with their lives, homes and futures.

And then there is Sudan, a crisis the world does not appear to discuss enough.

Since fighting erupted in 2023, millions of Sudanese have been displaced, while civilians continue to face hunger, insecurity and death. A United Nations investigation has also reported the involvement of external networks in supplying weapons to forces involved in the conflict.

This raises a difficult question: why should weapons continue to flow into a conflict when ordinary Sudanese civilians are the ones paying the ultimate price?

As a Nigerian, I cannot regard war as something that happens only in distant countries.
Boko Haram has terrorised communities in northeastern Nigeria for years, while the abduction of the Chibok schoolgirls remains one of the most painful reminders of the vulnerability of children in conflict.
Reports of the abduction of pupils in Oyo State in 2026 are another reminder that insecurity remains close to home. They are not soldiers. They are children.

When I hear that “thousands have died,” I sometimes feel we forget what that number actually represents.

Thousands of individual people. Thousands of families. Thousands of empty chairs at dinner tables. Thousands of dreams that will never be fulfilled.

Numbers can make suffering appear distant. Behind every statistic is a human being with a family, relationships, hopes and a future.

I am only one person, and I cannot stop a war. But I cannot pretend that war does not affect me.
War is not simply about destroyed buildings or damaged infrastructure. It is about destroyed lives, broken families, displaced communities and stolen childhoods.

We should never become so accustomed to violence that human suffering becomes just another statistic. We should never become comfortable with war.