By Amos Aar
EVERY Christmas season, River Buruku in Benue State, transforms into a magnet for fun-seekers. Youths troop to its banks for picnics, music, swimming and boat rides, turning the river into a festive hub that echoes the joy of the season.
Yet, beneath the excitement lies a recurring tragic reality: Buruku’s Christmas beaching culture has, over the years, become almost synonymous with death.
From Christmas Day drownings to Boxing Day tragedies, the river has repeatedly recorded fatal incidents linked to beaching and recreational activities.
In December 2013, what began as a joyful Boxing Day outing ended in catastrophe when a boat conveying fun-seekers capsized while crossing the river. Initial reports spoke of dozens missing, with at least 17 bodies eventually recovered. To date, that incident remains one of the deadliest leisure-related river disasters in Benue State and a haunting reminder of how quickly celebration can turn into mourning.
Eight years later, in December 2021, history appeared to repeat itself. Despite warnings and restrictions by authorities and traditional leaders, hundreds of youths again converged on River Buruku for Christmas picnics and carnivals.
Days later, security operatives recovered the bodies of three fun-seekers who drowned during the celebrations. The pattern was becoming difficult to ignore: Christmas at Buruku was increasingly followed by body recovery and grieving families.
The trend has not abated. Few days ago, during the just-concluded Christmas celebrations, reports again emerged from the river. Social media, particularly Facebook, was awash with posts announcing that three persons had drowned during beaching activities at River Buruku.
While official statements are still awaited to fully verify details, the reports added to the growing list of deaths associated with festive gatherings at the river, reinforcing fears that little has changed despite past tragedies.
Residents say the danger is well known. The river is deep, its currents unpredictable, and safety measures almost non-existent during peak festive periods. Life jackets are rarely used, boats are often overloaded, and many fun-seekers venture into the water without swimming skills. Alcohol consumption, common during celebrations, further compounds the risk, dulling judgment and increasing vulnerability.
Community elders and security officials have repeatedly warned against unregulated beaching at the river, especially during festivities. Yet, each year, the warnings appear to fade under the pull of tradition, peer pressure and the simple desire to “have fun” during Christmas. The result is a tragic cycle: celebration, disaster, mourning, and then silence until the next Christmas.
What makes the situation more troubling is the sense of needlessness surrounding these deaths. Unlike unavoidable natural disasters, the Buruku tragedies are largely preventable. There are no safety patrols, no designated recreational zones, no enforced restrictions, and little sustained public education on the risks.
Each death, therefore, raises uncomfortable questions about collective responsibility, enforcement failure and the value placed on human life.
For families who lose loved ones, Christmas never remains the same. What should be a season of joy becomes a yearly reminder of absence and pain.
For the wider community, the recurring deaths are a stark indictment of a culture that has normalised danger in the name of celebration.
As another year passes with more lives reportedly lost to River Buruku during Christmas beaching, the question becomes unavoidable: how many more deaths will it take before the practice is rethought? Until deliberate steps are taken to either strictly regulate or discourage festive beaching at the river, Buruku risks remaining a river where Christmas joy too often ends in tragedy.
