You Don’t Silence a Voice by Violence

Fred Allan Nyankuru

When I first heard that Charlie Kirk had been gunned down at a Turning Point USA event, my heart broke. I may not be an American, but from far away I counted myself among his listeners, his readers, and his students in the fight for truth.

The man who killed Charlie thought he was ending a voice he didn’t like. But violence never achieves that. If anything, it does the opposite. In death, Charlie Kirk has become louder than ever.

Charlie was more than an American commentator. For people like me, watching from outside the United States, he represented courage in defending faith, family, and freedom. His unapologetic way of speaking truth drew in millions across borders. He gave Christians, conservatives, and ordinary people who still believe in common sense the courage to stand up.

The shooter may have believed he was silencing an irritant. But in reality, he has given birth to something stronger: conviction. Today, conservative Christians and free-speech advocates are more determined than ever that Charlie’s work must continue —this time more courageously, more viciously against lies, and with deeper faith.

Scripture tells us: “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much fruit” (John 12:24). That is what has happened. Charlie’s voice has not been buried; it has been multiplied in the hearts of those he inspired, including people like me who live oceans away.

History bears witness to this truth. When Abraham Lincoln was shot, democracy itself was strengthened. When Martin Luther King Jr. Was assassinated, the civil rights movement marched on with renewed fire. Violence has never destroyed an idea rooted in truth. It only immortalizes it.

That is the paradox the radical who killed Charlie cannot escape. He thought he had won. Instead, he has raised up an army of voices that will never be silenced.

This tragedy also carries a warning. If debate is replaced by violence, society collapses. The greatness of America, and of any free nation, is the ability to argue fiercely without resorting to bloodshed. If you disagree with Charlie Kirk, or with any voice, the answer is not a gun. The answer is argument. Logic. Evidence. Persuasion.

As someone outside America, I admired Charlie not just because of his politics but because of his faith. He was unashamed of his belief in God, and unashamed of proclaiming that faith should shape public life. For Christians everywhere, he modelled boldness in a world that too often pressures us into silence. His passing has left a wound, but also a calling —to stand stronger, speak louder, and to never cower before hostility.

The truth is this: the shooter silenced a man, but he did not silence the mission. Charlie Kirk’s work will live on in every believer who shares his convictions. It will live on in the millions who will carry forward his ideas. And it will live on in those of us far beyond America, who saw in him a champion of both truth and freedom.

You do not silence a voice by violence. You only make sure that voice echoes without end.