By Our Reporter
For 56 days, hope and fear lived side by side in a forest hideout where dozens of schoolchildren, teachers and other captives struggled to survive.
Every day brought uncertainty. Every sound sparked fear. And for two of the hostages, the journey home never came.
Now, as the Federal Government files terrorism and kidnapping charges against three suspects over the abduction in Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State, one of the survivors has offered a chilling account of life in captivity, revealing the trauma, loss and resilience that defined the ordeal.
The suspects—Abdulrazak Umar, also known as Abu Khalifa or Abu Khalid, Yunusa Musa and Shamsu Adamu Sani—are facing a 10-count charge bordering on terrorism, kidnapping, concealment of information, incitement and illegal mining. They are expected to be arraigned before the Federal High Court in Abuja after investigators concluded their probe into the incident.
But beyond the court documents lies the human story of those who endured weeks of fear in the hands of their captors.
“He kept begging… then everything went silent”
Mr. Zacheaus Olatunde, one of the released hostages, said the first victim, Mr. Michael Oyedokun, was killed over what the captors described as disobedience.
According to him, shortly after they arrived at the camp, the armed men ordered everyone to surrender their mobile phones.
Unknown to the others, Oyedokun still had his phone in his pocket.
A member of the group reportedly discovered it and accused him of deliberately hiding it. Despite his explanation that he did not hear the instruction, he was allegedly slapped before being dragged before one of the commanders.
“The commander said if he wasn’t going to kill anyone, then he would kill this man for disobeying his order,” Olatunde recalled.
The next day, Oyedokun was taken away.
His fellow captives could only hear his desperate cries as he pleaded for his life.
Moments later, the forest fell silent.
Olatunde said one of the younger members of the armed group later returned dancing and celebrating the teacher’s death.
Another Life Lost
The second victim, Deacon John Olaleye, was reportedly killed weeks later.
According to Olatunde, the kidnappers accused him of violating an earlier warning that security forces should not approach their camp.
Like Oyedokun, he was taken away from the other captives.
They never saw him again.
They only heard his final cries from a distance.
Chained, Blindfolded and Forbidden to Pray
Life in captivity, Olatunde said, was marked by suffering.
The captives were chained and handcuffed inside tents throughout the 56 days.
They were blindfolded most of the time and had to seek permission even to relieve themselves.
The group frequently changed camps, forcing the hostages to move through unfamiliar forests.
Punishments were common.
Sometimes they were beaten with guns, and adults were punished for mistakes made by frightened children.
Perhaps most painful for many of the Christian captives, Olatunde said, was being prevented from praying.
He claimed that whenever the kidnappers caught them praying or calling on Jesus, they were beaten.
Ironically, he noted, the captors themselves never missed their own prayer sessions and regularly recited the Quran.
Their Demand Wasn’t Money
Contrary to widespread assumptions about kidnapping for ransom, Olatunde said the group’s primary demand was the release of their detained members and relatives.
According to him, the kidnappers repeatedly insisted they wanted their people freed from government custody.
He believes this eventually influenced their release.
After hearing that some of their family members had been arrested during military operations, the armed men informed the captives that they would be allowed to leave.
The Walk to Freedom
Before setting them free, the kidnappers reportedly gave detailed directions.
They instructed the captives to cross two streams, assuring them that soldiers would be waiting on the other side.
Many of the children had become too weak to walk.
Olatunde said he carried several of them across the streams until they finally reached security personnel waiting to receive them.
For the exhausted survivors, it marked the end of nearly two months of fear.
Small Acts of Humanity Amid Brutality
Food was scarce and monotonous.
Most days, they survived on plain rice or rice mixed only with red palm oil.
Occasionally, the captors killed wild animals such as a deer and a grasscutter to feed them.
Olatunde said the kidnappers’ behaviour softened after Deacon Olaleye’s death and news reached them that security forces had arrested some of their relatives.
On the day of their release, they even asked the captives if they wished to bathe before leaving.
The hostages declined.
All they wanted was to go home.
Investigation Moves to Court
Following investigations, the Federal Government charged Abdulrazak Umar, Yunusa Musa and Shamsu Adamu with terrorism-related offences.
Prosecutors allege the trio conspired with three other suspects still at large to plan and facilitate the abduction between January and May 2026.
The government also accused them of concealing information about the planned attack, professing membership of Darul Salam—an alleged group linked to the proscribed terrorist organisation Ansaru—and failing to alert security agencies despite prior knowledge of the operation.
Abdulrazak Umar faces additional allegations of providing terrorist training, using a WhatsApp platform to allegedly incite terrorism and engaging in illegal gold mining in Suleja, Niger State.
The defendants are expected to enter their pleas when they appear before the Federal High Court in Abuja.
A Pain That Remains
For the survivors, however, justice in court cannot erase the memories of those terrifying 56 days or bring back the two men who never made it home.
“We thank God that we survived,” Olatunde said. “But we are deeply saddened that Mr. Michael Oyedokun and Mr. John Olaleye could not return with us.”
As the legal process begins, the voices of the survivors stand as a sobering reminder that behind every kidnapping statistic are families forever changed, children carrying invisible scars, and communities still searching for healing.
