ENGINEER Ifeanyi Maduagwu’s voice cracked with raw sorrow as he recounted the final hours before learning of his daughter Somtochukwu Christella’s brutal death in an armed robbery at her Abuja apartment. The 29-year-old ARISE TV presenter, known for her vibrant on-screen presence and fierce advocacy for women’s rights, was gunned down in her home last week, leaving a nation reeling from yet another senseless act of violence. In an emotional interview with journalist Dennis Naku, Maduagwu – a proud Anambra native from Agulu – pieced together the shattering phone calls that unravelled his world, pleading for government action to stem Nigeria’s tide of insecurity. “It is so painful because, after all her efforts, my daughter’s passion and dreams for Nigeria were cut short,” he said, his words a haunting echo of unfulfilled promise.
Somtochukwu, born on December 26, 1995, was the “handbag of the house” – an only child for over five years who lit up every room with her infectious energy. Educated in the UK before returning for Nigerian Law School and her NYSC, she defied her father’s booked master’s ticket abroad to work two years in Nigeria, honing her skills at ARISE TV. Her return was no whim; it was a deliberate stand against national decay. “She strongly believed that the way things were going in Nigeria was wrong and that her voice needed to be heard at home,” Maduagwu revealed.
“She wanted to be part of the solution, to speak up and push for the changes this country desperately needs.” Her ambitions burned bright: championing the needy, amplifying women in politics, and ultimately ascending to the Senate. Engaged but resolute – “She didn’t want to be dependent on a man” – she had just planned a festive village homecoming for her 30th birthday, cooking for local children as she had years prior. Those dreams now lie extinguished, pierced “like an arrow” through her father’s heart.
Amid the grief, glimmers of joy pierce the pain – like their September 2025 father-daughter escape to Tangier, Morocco, where they lounged on beaches and toured the city on a double-decker bus, forging memories untouched by foreboding. No illness, no warning; just a routine Monday at work shattered by a 9:30 a.m. call from his brother summoning him to Port Harcourt. Maduagwu’s casual check-in with his wife, unaware of her mounting dread from failed calls to Sommie, spiralled into a frantic chopper scramble too late to change fate.
“I will miss everything,” he confessed, choking back tears. “Her care, her constant calls: ‘Dad, have you eaten? Are you taking good care of yourself?’” As Nigeria grapples with escalating robberies claiming young lives, Maduagwu’s plea rings urgent: “My only plea is that the government should urgently address the issues that continue to put citizens at risk and do more to safeguard lives.” In Somtochukwu’s absence, her lively spirit – the dancer, the laugher, the changemaker – endures as a call to action, her unyielding light a beacon for the nation she yearned to heal.