In the face of evil, silence is not just complicity, it can be a death sentence. The recent discovery of underground death pits in Umumba Ndiagu, Ezeagu Local Government Area of Enugu State, has horrified Nigerians and left many reeling from the sheer brutality of one man’s alleged reign of terror. Levi Onyeka Obu, infamously known as Ezeani or “Ichie Millions,” is accused of turning his compound into a grotesque shrine of death, a place where people, including children and pregnant women, were reportedly buried alive for ritual purposes.

The outrage from the community is palpable. His palatial home, equipped with exotic cars and laced with concealed soak-away pits containing decomposing human bodies, has now been reduced to ashes by angry youths. And while the police and local vigilantes have apprehended some of his accomplices while Ezeani himself was arrested by immigration officials in his bid to flee the country, a critical, yet underexplored, question remains: Where was his wife when all of this was happening?

This is not mere curiosity. This is accountability. A throwback video show the alleged ritualist and his wife in attendance at a particular public event in the community, and at that event, Ezeani sprayed money like confetti. According to members of this writer’s social media family, she was a visible figure, often seen by his side as he flaunted unexplained wealth. As the community and law enforcement dig deeper, it begs the question: Is it possible for a woman to live under the same roof with a man who ran a literal killing field and not know anything?

Many Nigerians believe the answer is a resounding “No.” And quite frankly, that suspicion is not without merit. It is hard to imagine that anyone could live in a house where human beings were buried alive, where decomposing bodies lay beneath sealed concrete, and not smell, see, or suspect something.

Yet, as compelling as that argument is, it is also necessary to take a step back and ask a more nuanced question: Could the wife have been coerced into silence? It is entirely plausible, even likely, that Ezeani’s wife was not just a silent spectator but a woman who may have been terrorized into silence.

In many cultic and ritualistic environments, fear is a powerful silencing tool. Ezeani, a man who allegedly murdered children and pregnant women for ritual gains, is obviously capable of unimaginable cruelty. What would stop such a man from threatening his own wife, or their children, into obedience?

Moreover, in patriarchal settings such as Nigeria, many women are socialized to obey their husbands without question. If she had suspicions but was constantly gas lighted or abused, her psychological imprisonment would be just as potent as physical chains.

In extreme cases of abuse, women are known to play along in public, putting on a brave face, dancing at parties, and smiling for the camera, all while living in constant fear. So, those videos of the wife at social events with Ezeani may not tell the whole story. Still, ignorance is not innocence, and while coercion is a possibility, it does not absolve her from scrutiny.

In fact, living in a house that eventually turned out to be a cemetery raises unavoidable questions: Did she never wonder why there were sealed pits? Did she never ask what went on in the “shrine”? Was she never alarmed by the odd movements, the visitors, or the inexplicable wealth?

If she ignored all that in the name of loyalty, then hers was a loyalty misplaced. If she participated, actively or passively, then justice must take its full course.

The most haunting part of this saga is the testimony of the 13-year-old girl who was rescued from a pit where she had been dumped, presumably waiting to be sacrificed. She recounted how she and her father went to fetch firewood, only to be intercepted by Ezeani’s men. The girl was taken and thrown into a pit, where she began to cry until Neighborhood Watch operatives saved her.

This child’s survival was a miracle. And her testimony opened the floodgates that led to the uncovering of Ezeani’s horrors. Two decomposing bodies were discovered, and several other suspects, including a man who admitted visiting the shrine for rituals, have been arrested.

The Enugu State Police, led by Commissioner Mamman Bitrus Giwa, have done commendable work in launching a manhunt for Ezeani and arresting his accomplices. The Enugu State Government has since demolished the buildings used for the heinous crimes. But the investigation must go further.

Given the backdrop of the foregoing interrogative questions, the wife must be questioned. Not with pitchforks or mob justice, but with the full weight and professionalism of the law. If she knew, and aided her husband in any way, she is an accomplice. If she kept quiet out of fear, then she may be a secondary victim. The line between the two must be clearly drawn.

Analyzed from a broader perspective, this tragedy also shines a light on a cultural issue we must confront: blind spousal loyalty. Too often, women are taught to “stand by their men” no matter what. But there must be a limit, and that limit must be evil.

Every wife, and indeed every partner, has a moral duty to ask questions. If your husband’s source of wealth is suspicious, ask. If he turns your house into a fortress where no one enters or leaves freely, ask. If there are sealed pits, sealed rooms, or suspicious visitors, demand answers. Silence, in such cases, is complicity.

In fact, the prosecution of Ezeani will no doubt bring some measure of justice to the victims and their families. But this must go beyond one man. All those connected to him, including his wife, must be thoroughly investigated.

She might have been a co-conspirator. Or she might have been a prisoner in her own home. Either way, the truth must come out.

And to women across the country: know your husbands. Ask questions. Because in a world where monsters wear human faces, ignorance is no longer an excuse.