Recap:
In Part One, I described how an ordinary journey from Uyo to Abuja was violently interrupted when armed men ambushed our bus on the Kogi–Okene road. We were marched deep into the forest and given our ransom amounts. Now, the ordeal intensifies as we endure days of hunger, fear, and brutal negotiations for our lives.
Meagre Sustenance
On the first night we slept in the forest, no one bothered about food because we were too terrified. But as the first day neared its end, hunger started creeping in, and then late in the evening, some of them returned after going out for almost the entire day, with ‘food’. All we had was a sachet of water per person for the entire day, and some badly made rice in very little quantity. On days they brought us swallow, the soup was always a tasteless concoction that many were not able to eat, while the swallow itself was a tiny piece that they sell for one hundred, which shared for two people. Some of us could not eat but just drank water. But on the third day, we had to eat just to survive until our families raised the ransom. By the time it got to day 5, we were praying for the food, no matter how dirty and tiny. It took them a lot to get food for us because they needed to travel that distance to the road, and even more every day at least once, to get us the food, which we later found out was prepared by their female colleagues and girlfriends who mingle with others outside the forest.
The Horror of Calling Loved Ones
This was one of the most traumatic experiences in the forest. From day three, this horror began. It was usually at night when they may have finished all they had to do for the day. First, they ordered us out of where we usually sat- under a tree, seeking shelter from the scorching sun or the torrential rain. Then we would be moved to an open area, the men still in chains, in pairs- helping each other walk the small distance. victims will bring the phone, with the sim card of one of the victims; his name was Matthew from Edo state. They used his Glo line. When there was no recharge card, they would force us to call a family member to recharge the phone. One after the other, they would hand us the phone, guns and clubs in hand, ready to hit us. The idea behind beating us was for family members to hear us cry at the time of the call to hasten the process of gathering the money. The beating would intensify if the family member on the phone told us how much they have gathered, and it was an amount that did not impress them. It was a gory sight to see fathers and mothers crying from being beaten by young men they had given birth to. But such was the harrowing experience. I remember having back ache from the beating for one whole week after we were freed. Gradually we gathered the money, and each day got us closer to freedom.
Delivering the Ransom and Release.
On November 7th, day six, the kidnappers realised no matter the level of beating, our families could not increase the amounts so far raised, so they decided it was time to take the money and let us go. Having arrived at this decision, it was time to lay down the plan for a successful delivery of the cash and our eventual return to the highway.
First, we were told they do not collect bank transfers, so every kobo must be in cash. Not just cash but in 1,000 naira denomination, and the notes must not be defaced, so that the delivery won’t be too bulky. Second, all deliveries had to be made directly to them, right there in the forest. So, all the millions had to be withdrawn. That said, we communicated with our respective families, who would in turn decide on who would take the risky journey of coming to deliver the cash. As this decision hit us, we all started remembering cases where family members who went to deliver ransoms were either kidnapped or even killed upon delivery. Difficult as that task was, we had few volunteers, not because others refused, but because of distance. So, in the end, my friend Kelvin, and two others – one, a husband whose wife was also kidnapped, and a relative of another victim decided to take the risk. It was easy to get them because they were in Abuja. For the guy from Benin, Edo state, his brother had to charter a vehicle from there to come and deliver the cash. A brother to an elderly man who was with us drove to Lokoja and waited there with the man’s ransom, while the rest were told to have theirs transferred to the Abuja team.
We stumbled toward the road, free but still deep in dangerous territory. Less than five minutes into our drive out of the kidnappers’ den, we learned of another armed attack just ahead as vehicles were turning back. Could we survive a second encounter before even tasting freedom?
So, from early in the morning of November 8th, my friend Kelvin and two others chartered a Toyota Sienna vehicle at Gwagwalada for the trip, while the guy from Edo set out from Benin too. As it turned out, our abductors decided to be chatting with Kelvin as the trip progressed. They delayed to give them the go ahead to leave until it was late, so that they can arrive at night. Having made sure that all monies had been collected, withdrawn and handed over to the team that was coming, they asked to know the number of people in each vehicle, and they were told that three people were in the Sienna with the driver, while the one that came from Benin had just the victim’s brother and the driver. They warned occupants of the vehicles that if they arrived with anything more or less than those numbers, they would be killed. They were also instructed to ensure that the cash is the exact amount that totalled our individual ransoms put together. The Edo team had left earlier because of the distance, while the Abuja team departed late afternoon into the evening. As soon as the team from Abuja left, they started moving us gradually from deep inside the forest closer to the road. Intermittently, they will call to know where they had reached, and then they will move us closer to the road.
During one of those calls, Kelvin for whatever reason, did not take the call. They called back, and Kelvin did not take. Worried that they may have change their minds and decided to part with the money and leave them to do with us what they wished, the leader of the gang, already angry, in few quick steps dashed to where we were seated on the floor, and hollered, ‘who be Kelvin brother here’? with a trembling voice I answered ‘na me’. He raised his gun, an AK-47, came closer to me and pointed it directly to my forehead. The only thing that stopped me from emptying my bowels was because my system had no food in it due to hunger. We were literally starving. ‘’I de call Kelvin and he no pick, wetin you tell him’? he shouted at me. ‘’Oga abeg I no tell am anything o, no be me de here with you’? I responded, my heart beating five times faster. ‘If you no want make I shoot you, tell am to answer if I call again, he warned. At this time, all of us started praying silently for Kelvin to pick up his call. When he eventually dialled the number again, he handed the phone to me, shifted back a little, and corked his gun to make good his promise of shooting me, should Kelvin not answer the call. Meanwhile, while there, all calls were put on speakerphone. So, as Kelvin’s phone rang, and he was yet to pick up, I felt a cold shiver down my spine. This could be your last moment on earth, I said to myself. In that dead-silent moment, we all heard ‘hello’ from Kelvin. That’s how everybody chorused ‘THANK YOU JESUS’. I did not know when I broke down in tears because I was sure I won’t die that day. ‘’Why you no de pick call? You want make them kill me? I asked angrily, speaking to the phone. ‘’sorry, I could not take the phone because we were at an army checkpoint”. Then the kidnapper guy stepped forward, collected the phone, and left us while asking Kelvin where they had reached. Moments later, they started moving us closer to the road, indicating that our freedom is getting closer, but that is the most dangerous and dicey period because any mistake, someone could be shot. So, gradually we were moved to a place where we could hear vehicles passing. The relief was out of this world. The chains were off our legs; only armed terrorists watching over us under a tree as we sat, smelling from not taking a washed for seven full days. But who cares when all we wanted was to get out and get home? As they got closer, we overheard the team leader telling Kelvin to stopover at a certain location to buy food, fried meat, chicken, drinks, cigarettes, sachet water, some quantity of fuel, and a tube. This was after they had collected the other tranche of the ransom from one of the family members who had arrived Lokoja and was asked to wait there. We were already happy they are buying food for us; same with Kelvin who was doing the buying. Unknown to us, that was for their celebration of a successful ransom collection. In fact, that entire day, we had no food, because we were set to go home. It reminded us of the fact that on the day the people we met in the forest who were kidnapped before us were released after paying their ransom, the terrorists had a party that night in the forest. That night, they invited their girlfriends or wives as the case may be to join them and they ate and drank, while we watched them from a distance. Turns out these are the ladies that make the terrible mixtures called food for us. It is a complete team both inside and outside the forest. Meanwhile, the tube and the fuel as the kidnappers later revealed, was for another operation that night, because as we leave, another set is kidnapped. Such is the audacity. Finally, our ransom bearers were close. The guy from Benin had already arrived, but they did not allow him, nor his brother and the driver to go, so they joined us to sit and wait for the Abuja team, so that we can all go at the same time. At this time, it was getting close to 10pm. According to Kelvin who narrated how they were received, about four of the kidnappers took positions at the highway, close to the bush track that led to where we were kept. As they approached, the phone call was running uninterrupted. They ordered the driver to switch on the inner lights to ensure the number of people in the car and the description were the same with what was communicated earlier. As soon as they could see the car from a distance, they released several gunshots into the air to stop potential vehicles from coming. As the driver slowed to a stop, he was directed to drive into a bush path leading to where we were kept. It was far enough for anybody on the road not to notice. As soon as we heard the gunshots, we knew they had arrived because the chit-chat amongst those who were watching over us increased. They were at a critical moment. We too. We intensified our prayers for a safe swap of ransom for freedom. A few minutes later, we saw them moving with Kelvin and the others to another part of the forest; away from where we were kept. As we peeped to see what was going on, we discovered they were leading them with guns pointed at their backs while their hands were on their heads. It was a traumatic experience for them. Fear gripped me again. What if something happens to Kelvin who is just a friend? What do I tell the family if I survive? He refused to tell his mum, dad or any other family member because they would never approve of that for a friend. But he risked his for my freedom. About ten minutes later, they finished gathering the food and drinks from the car, confirmed the money by just counting the bundles against the total amount, and were satisfied there was no cheating. Then they marched them back to join us. As they approached us, they shouted ‘all of una stand up’, and we jump up. ‘’Una free to go, oya move’’, at that point, Kelvin shouted ‘Gee’, that’s how we call ourselves, to confirm I was there, and I answered ‘’Gee’’. ‘Let’s go’’, he said and we all jumped up and started following the driver who was leading the way. At this point nobody wanted to be the last because we were afraid, they may open fire on us, so we scrambled to either be in front or the middle. We stumbled toward the road, free but still deep in dangerous territory. Less than five minutes into our drive out of the kidnappers’ den, we learned of another armed attack just ahead as vehicles were turning back. Could we survive a second encounter before even tasting freedom?
End of Part Two.
