Protocol and the People A few weeks ago, I came across an article about an interesting diplomatic moment. The U.S. President's motorcade was passing through a city, leading to a temporary road closure. Coincidentally, the President of France was caught in the traffic. Rather than wait impatiently, he calmly stepped out of his car and walked to the French Embassy nearby. Reports say he even placed a call to the U.S. President—likely exchanging pleasantries and turning what could have been a frustrating moment into a graceful display of diplomacy and humility. This simple act carries deep lessons about leadership, protocol, and the human side of power. Once an individual becomes the President of a nation—regardless of how he or she got there—they automatically become the First Citizen. With that status comes an aura of respect and honour, not just for the officeholder, but for the nation they represent. A similar reflection came to mind during the recent burial of the late mother of the National Chairman of the ruling All Progressives Congress (APC). For the family, it was a day of grief; for the state, a day of honour. Never in her lifetime did the late woman witness such a parade of dignitaries—governors, ministers, senators, traditional rulers, and political figures—all converging to pay their respects. The state government equally played its part in ensuring that the ceremony went smoothly. However, for ordinary citizens, the event came with its share of inconveniences. Roads were blocked for hours, bringing the entire area to a standstill. Weddings were delayed, other burials were postponed, and small business owners—especially roadside vendors and tricycle riders—had their daily earnings disrupted. Some even saw the situation as an opportunity to increase transport fares. In the midst of it all, everyone had a story, and everyone sought attention in one way or another. Unfortunately, not everyone understood what was happening or why. A local reporter from Jay FM, in a rush to post breaking news, failed to respect the ethics of journalism. The caption that followed her post claimed that a Muslim attended a church service while pastors were denied entry into their own church and pulpit. The post spread quickly, stirring unnecessary tension online. I couldn't help but smile—not out of amusement, but disbelief. I asked myself: Hasn't the Bible reminded us that our bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit? The church building, no matter how sacred, is still a physical structure where believers gather to worship. The real church is the people. If we understood this, perhaps we would not allow sensational narratives to divide us so easily. Now imagine if that misleading post had triggered public outrage—if people had reacted violently, destroying lives and property in anger. Plateau State could have been thrown once again into chaos, all because of a careless headline. That single act of ignorance could have reignited the painful cycle of violence we have worked so hard to overcome. Interestingly, the same burial event that sparked online controversy brought together people from different faiths—Christians, Muslims, and even traditional worshippers—all united in one gathering to honour a departed mother. That moment should have reminded us that, beyond our religions, tribes, and political affiliations, we are first and foremost human beings, bound by shared values and mutual respect. As a people, we must learn to understand how systems work. Protocol is not favoritism—it is a structured way of maintaining order, respect, and safety in public functions. Not everyone can sit in the front row or speak from the pulpit during a state event. It is not a measure of one's faith or relevance; it is simply procedure. Before we rush to social media to criticize, mock, or incite the public, we must seek understanding. Not every act of exclusion is discrimination; sometimes, it is protocol. And as we move closer to another political season, we must be mindful of how words, posts, and assumptions can inflame passions and cause irreversible damage. Some people may have survived such recklessness in the past—but not everyone will be that lucky. In the end, our society must find a balance between respecting protocol and valuing people. The ability to discern, to think critically before reacting, and to prioritize peace over pride is what makes a people truly mature. Leadership may come with power, but citizenship comes with responsibility