It all started on the night of May 9, around 8 p.m.
Exams were just around the corner, and a few students had been asking me to hold a tutorial session. I finally agreed and scheduled it for that evening. Barely ten minutes into the session, we heard a gunshot.
At first, I wasn’t alarmed. The school’s security operatives sometimes fired warning shots. But the sound grew louder, more frequent and much closer. That’s when we hit the floor.
Suddenly, gunmen stormed into the class, turned off the lights, and continued shooting. They dragged us out. I tried to escape. I ran blindly into the night, but unknowingly, I ran toward another group of them. I was slapped so hard I fell and blacked out. That’s how they took us, right from the premises of CUSTECH.
We were marched through the night. No phones, no communication. They’d seized everyone’s phone; but by sheer luck, mine was still plugged in my hostel room, untouched.
At some point, they made us lie down in thick bushland. I stared up at the sky all night, praying it was all a dream.
We walked for hours, barefoot and clueless of where we were headed. For two full days, we had nothing to eat. On the third day, they gave us one small pack of spaghetti, just one for 25 of us. I broke down in tears.
I later found out they’d attacked my school just moments after I was captured. Many who escaped that day did so because they weren’t mistaken for lecturers like I was.
We trekked from Osara to Kabba, barefoot. No food. We drank only from streams 😭. We crossed forests, climbed mountains. When it rained, we were drenched. When the sun came up, it dried our skin. Yet, somehow, I didn’t fall ill, not even once, despite my preexisting health condition. It was only God.
After a week, they took us across Kabba junction. Not a single security personnel was there. I lost hope that day. They carried us on bikes to Kwara State.
That’s where they started calling our parents, demanding 200 million naira per person. There were ten of us at the time. Only eight made it back alive.
They beat us severely, especially on days they made ransom calls. By then, food was down to just twice a week.
Then came the day they killed two of us.
Their boss arrived and selected two guys, claiming their parents had paid. But I knew something was off. Our parents were negotiating together, there’s no way two people’s ransom had cleared first. Deep down, I feared the worst.
They promised to come back and take three girls next. Panic and hopelessness spread through us. Then, we noticed helicopters flying overhead. Unknown to us, it was the government searching for us. The kidnappers kept relocating us deeper into the forest.
On May 30, they told us we’d be going home the next day. We were happy. But I didn’t know they were planning to kill us all.
One young kidnapper, probably even younger than me, had taken a liking to us. He was the one who secretly told us the truth: they were under orders to eliminate us. But he said he’d help us escape. I cried. He warned me to hide my emotions or I’d blow his cover. I had to wear a brave face.
June 1 came. They tried to reach their boss for the kill order, but couldn’t. Soldiers were getting close. So we moved again, walking all night. Around 3 a.m. on June 2, they pointed us in a direction and told us to run if we saw any lights. “Kidnappers are everywhere,” they warned.
They left us in the dark.
We walked until a heavy rain forced us to shelter under a tree. At dawn, we reached a village. The locals ran at the sight of us; filthy, soaked, and broken 😭. One girl was brave enough to talk to us. She pointed us toward the main road.
We hadn’t eaten in five days. We survived on cashew fruits from roadside trees. At one bakery, kind strangers gave us bread. Then, a man on a bike stopped, listened, and called the police. They picked us up.
……. Uhmmmm, the government didn’t pay a dime. Our parents didn’t either. It was God’s mercy and the pressure from gov’t security agencies that set us free.
At the station, we learned the heartbreaking truth: those two boys had been killed. But one thing gave me peace, none of the girls had been molested. That, at least, was a miracle in the madness.
This is my story. One I’ll never forget. One that still haunts me. But I survived. And that alone is everything.
This is the summary of my experience. There are lots more I can't write 😭
To the two guys we lost, Rest on to Champs 🕯️
~ Bint
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