An American named Alex Barbir has quietly taken a hands-on approach to a humanitarian crisis that mainstream outlets barely acknowledge, traveling to ravaged villages in Nigeria to help Christians rebuild homes and churches through his nonprofit, Building Zion. Local reports show Barbir working in communities like Yelewata in Benue State, erecting and repairing shelters for families driven from their homes after violent attacks.
The destruction in many of these northern and central Nigerian communities is real and recent; bandit and herdsmen raids have left homes and churches burned and whole villages emptied, forcing locals into desperate dependency. Eyewitness accounts on the ground describe communities that look like war zones, a grim testament to the human cost of lawlessness and religious targeting.
Building Zion’s stated mission is to reach the persecuted with practical help—shelter, schools, and clean water—while sharing the Gospel, and Barbir has used fundraising and direct missions to get boots on the ground. His GoFundMe and the organization’s site lay out a modest, faith-driven strategy focused on tangible reconstruction amid ongoing danger.
What should alarm every person of conscience is not only the brutality on display but the deafening silence around it from the global media and many Western institutions. Outlets that swell with outrage for other tragedies too often turn away when Christians in places like Nigeria and Mozambique are slaughtered and their churches burned; that selective attention is a moral failing of our cultural gatekeepers.
This is not merely a local law-and-order problem; it is a failure of governance and international will. When victims are targeted for their faith and left without protection, the result is predictable: communities collapse, extremists win influence, and a generation grows up under fear instead of freedom.
The right response is practical charity combined with principled pressure. Supporting organizations that rebuild homes and churches matters because it restores more than roofs—it restores hope and dignity. At the same time, Western governments and human-rights bodies must stop treating these attacks as background noise and start demanding accountability from those who allow or abet them.
Americans and people of faith should take note: quiet heroes like Barbir show what true solidarity looks like, and their work exposes a painful truth about our age—truths too many prefer to ignore. It’s time to shine sunlight on these atrocities, to support the victims materially, and to insist that global leaders stop turning away from persecution simply because it doesn’t fit their preferred narratives.
