When the ground gave way beneath Zip Town, on the banks of the River Benue in Taraba State in August last year, it didn’t just swallow mud houses and modest belongings, but it also erased a community. An entire settlement crumbled silently into the river, leaving behind no trace of the schools, clinics, mosques, and homes that once dotted the river’s edge.

Today, the once Zip Town no longer exists. In its place is the roaring, silt-heavy River Benue and a makeshift camp of thatch houses where residents live as displaced people in their own ancestral land. There are no signs of government support, no relief tents, no emergency medical units, just silence, and a growing sense of abandonment.

“Our town sank into the river. Our clinic and school are beneath the water and sand. Our children no longer go to school. Pregnant women and newborns have nowhere to receive medical care,” said Gambo Saidu, an elder and community leader.

Gambo stood barefoot near his temporary shelter, a hut made of sticks and straw. Just a year ago, he lived in a cement house he had spent over N6 million to build. That house, and everything in it, now lies at the bottom of the river.

What happened in Zip was not an ordinary flood. Residents believe it was a landslide or soil subsidence, likely triggered by years of unchecked erosion. Gambo, who is also the brother of the late village head, said the signs were there long before the tragedy.

“We noticed cracks in our homes. My late brother reported the erosion and cracks to the Karim-Lamido Local Government Council and the Taraba State Government,” he recalled. “But no official came.”

Mallam Saidu Ahmadu Zip told ours correspondent that in August last year, houses began to tremble. Trees leaned unnaturally. Cracks widened. In a matter of hours, entire structures began sliding into the river. People screamed. Families rushed to evacuate. And then, as if swallowed by the earth, Zip vanished with its homes, mosque, church, market, school, and health centre, all gone beneath the river Benue.

“I had seven rooms and a parlour,” said Bashiru Gabdo, another resident. “I spent N7 million building my home. Now, I sleep in a thatch hut with my wife and mother.”

Further describing the moment his world collapsed, Gabdo said, “The ground cracked. Trees fell. Houses sank one by one. It was like a horror movie. And just like that, we had nothing.

“What is perhaps more painful than the loss of property is the lack of response. We received no help. No food, no tents, not even one bag of cement. And now the rainy season is here again.” Gabdo lamented.

A town buried in silence

The tragedy struck during breakfast for Husaina Muhammed and her family.

“One of the rooms started shaking while we were eating. A tree in our yard began sinking. We ran outside, and people were screaming,” she said. “We escaped but lost everything; our beds, our clothes, everything.”

Her husband has not recovered since the tragedy. “He fell sick with shock. He just stares at the river all day.” Other residents point to the river, which has changed course since the incident. “That used to be Zip,” said Ya’u Baba Tsoho, gesturing across the water. “Now, it’s all gone. Buried.”

Micah Dantala Isoko, the village scribe, led Arewa PUNCH through the flattened ruins. “The entire community is now made up of thatch shelters. The children no longer go to school. Pregnant women have to travel across the river to Mutumbiyu for medical care.

“What happened remains difficult to categorise. Was it a landslide, erosion, a minor earthquake, or something worse?

“I don’t know what to call it,” said Saadu Danyaya. “Maybe it was all of those things. The whole town just vanished. Even the palace of the village head, the central mosque, the primary school, all are buried beneath sand and water,” he said.

To worsen the plight of the people, there has been no official visit, no emergency declaration. The state has not stepped in. Even Taraba State’s Commissioner for Environment, Hajiya Aisha Barde, could not be reached for comment directly by our correspondent, but a director, in the ministry who pleaded anonymity because he was not authorised to speak on the matter said, there was no official report on the matter, but unofficial reports have it that part of the village gave way when the river overflowed its bank last year.

Another official in the State Emergency Management Agency said communities living along the river bank have been persistently warned to vacate such flood plains, but such advice always falls on deaf ears.

Also commenting, the Village head of the community, Mallam Yaya Yusuf, said the trauma of the event is compounded by government’s neglect.

“We are sleeping in thatch shelters. The cost of rebuilding is too high. And no help has come from the local government, state, or federal authorities,” he lamented.

Yusuf fears what the rainy season will bring. “No tents. No clean water. No clinics. And the rains are here.”

As the Benue River swells again in the distance, the people of Zip are left only with memories and unanswered questions.

“What we need is not charity,” said Gambo. “We just want a chance to start again.” For now, that chance remains buried somewhere beneath the wave of a river that swallowed a town and a silence that may yet drown its people. (The PUNCH)