As Benue State marks two years under the leadership of His Excellency, Rev. Fr. Dr. Hyacinth Iormem Alia, one achievement has consistently echoed across the plains of Ushongo, the markets of Wadata, the health posts in Katsina-Ala, and the classrooms of Konshisha: prompt, uninterrupted salary payment.
Some critics say, “That’s just his duty.” But talk to Mama Dooshima in Zaki-Biam who now restocks her basket of okra at the end of every month. Listen to Mr. Aondofa, a secondary school teacher in Wannune, who just paid his daughter’s WAEC fees without borrowing. Or ask the tricycle rider in Makurdi who sees a surge in passengers when salaries drop. They’ll tell you: this isn’t just salary. This is survival. This is dignity. This is development.
Psychological Relief: Healing Hidden Wounds
Years of delayed salaries in Benue caused more than economic hardship—they tore at the mental fabric of families. Teachers taught on empty stomachs. Healthcare workers attended to others while neglecting their own needs. Civil servants whispered prayers each morning for a miracle. Now, under Governor Alia, there’s a new rhythm. Month-end brings hope, not despair. Anxiety has reduced. Marriages are stabilizing. Homes once filled with silence now ring with laughter again. Predictability has returned—and with it, peace of mind.
Economic Ripple Effects: Salary payments are not isolated government expenses—they are injections into the lifeblood of the economy. In Wurukum Market, sales jump every payday. Tailors in Gboko report increased orders. POS agents in Otukpa replenish their float earlier. Why? Because salaries fuel spending. Spending fuels trade. And trade fuels growth.
A mechanic in Ugbokolo shared recently: “Since people started receiving salaries regularly, I’ve not gone two days without work.” That’s not theory—it’s progress in motion.
Empowering the Informal Sector, the economic benefits go far beyond civil servants. The woman selling akara in Vandekya, the barber in Buruku, the carpenter in Agasha—all benefit when workers get paid. Salary-earning households are economic anchors; their consistent patronage keeps thousands of micro-businesses afloat.
Mrs. Mnguher, a health worker in Logo, uses her salary to support a lesson teacher, restock home essentials, and contribute to her church. Each naira circulates and uplifts.
Governor Alia’s consistent payment of salaries is also a statement of discipline. In a climate where many states still owe workers arrears, Benue stands tall. Regular pay has reduced corruption incentives, improved punctuality, and revitalized public trust in governance. It is a return to sanity. A return to order. And it sets the tone for broader institutional reform.
Salary is not charity. It is not a favour. It is a right. But when that right is fulfilled with discipline and consistency, especially after years of inconsistency, it becomes a symbol of restored dignity. It signals that government can be dependable. That leadership can keep its word. That systems can work—for the people.
Finally, to those who say salary payment is not an achievement, let them walk through Wadata market at the end of the month. Let them talk to the yam seller in Katsina-Ala who now sells out. Or the widow in Otukpo whose son, a junior officer in the Ministry of Agriculture, sends her monthly upkeep again—without fail.
Governor Alia didn’t just pay salaries. He resuscitated dreams. He rebuilt faith. He reawakened a sleeping economy.
Because in today’s Benue, salary is no longer a forgotten promise—it is a lifeline that is restoring families, reviving commerce, and rewriting our story.
– Viashima is a systems strengthening expert and public policy advisor. He serves as the Director General of the Benue State Bureau for International Cooperation and Development and writes occasionally on governance, development, and social impact.
