Abducted

I was full of mixed feelings—fear, anxiety, and a bit of excitement. But nothing prepared me for what was ahead. Armed men suddenly emerged from the maize farms beside the road, fired shots into the air, and dragged us into the bush…

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My Journey Begins

On the 16th of August, 2023, I boarded a bus from Akwa Ibom State to Sokoto for my National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) programme. This was my first journey to another state alone, so I was full of mixed feelings—fear, anxiety, and a bit of excitement. The journey was supposed to last two days, but our bus left very late from the park. The first day was smooth, although I was extremely hungry. I didn’t understand why our driver refused to stop for us to eat.

The Abduction

We got to Abuja around 2 a.m. or 3 a.m. and decided to rest at the AKTC park there. Then by 6 a.m., our journey to Sokoto resumed. When we got to Kaduna, we finally stopped to eat. There was nothing available except amala with ewedu and rice with stew. I’m not one to reject food unless I’ve tasted it and don’t like it, so I tried my colleague’s food and ordered the same. I also got rice for take-away, unaware of what was ahead.

When we reached Kano, those heading to Jigawa dropped off. It was at that point that we realised our driver had no idea where Sokoto was. With help from Google Maps and a few directions, we eventually got to Katsina. I had suggested we stop because it was already past 7 p.m., but many others in the bus were too eager to get to Sokoto. I felt uneasy because there were no cars on the road, and the area was completely deserted. I received a call from my mom and shared my fears with her. She asked why the driver was still moving, and I told her I didn’t know. Immediately after I dropped the call, the bus slowed down; there was a roadblock ahead.

Thinking it was a checkpoint, our driver stopped. Suddenly, armed men emerged from the maize farms beside the road. They fired shots into the air and dragged everyone out of the bus. We were dragged into the bush and trekked all night barefoot until we reached a certain hut, where we were kept for the night. It was there that I realised that one of us had been shot in the leg and was bleeding heavily.

Life in Captivity

In total, there were 12 people in the bus (after the Jigawa passengers dropped off), including our driver. Three people escaped that very night. The next evening, we were moved again to another location. There, we were made to call our parents, and a ransom of 4 million naira each was demanded. Communication was difficult; we later discovered they didn’t understand English. We had to wait for our parents to find someone who could interpret.

After 2–4 days, they finally found a lady—a barrister—who could speak Hausa and pleaded on our behalf. She begged them to collect 5 million for all of us, but they refused, insisting it was 10 million or nothing. After several delays and no money coming in, we were moved again, this time to Zamfara, where I would spend five months of my life in a large forest.

Struggles and Hardships

When the first ransom money finally came, the injured man was released. Our parents had been told that all of us would be released together, but they lied. Only the injured man was freed. Life became harder. At first, they gave us rice and beans to eat because we had rejected tuwo masara and miyan kuka (a Hausa delicacy). Looking back, I can’t believe how picky we were as abductees with food preferences.

I learned to fetch water from the stream and carry it on my head. I hated it so much that I would rather sit and remove stones from rice just to avoid it. That was my escape, until people started being released, and it was no longer an option. We fell sick so many times, but God was merciful.

Prayer and Reflection

I was ashamed to even pray as I hadn’t spoken to God in so long, and I didn’t feel worthy to ask for help. But gradually, I began to pray. And in that forest, I prayed more than I ever had in my life. I thought about my parents and my siblings. For the first time in my life, I genuinely understood the importance of family.

I prayed and told God that if He brought me out, I wouldn’t go back to sin. One night, I had a dream and heard clearly: “Do not go back to your old life, including your sin partner.” At the time, I didn’t see it that way, but that relationship had become my idol.

The Long Wait

The days went by. People were being released, but not me. I began to doubt if I would ever be released. The ransom was increased to 200 million after the second person had been released. Our captors became more wicked, especially after money wasn’t coming in anymore. They’d get money later and still not release anyone. They would beat us at the slightest thing and sometimes refused to feed us. We begged for food, something I had never done before.

One day, the Nigerian Air Force dropped explosives in the area, and we heard gunshots all around us. By then, we were just five people left. The next day, we were moved again to an open space in the forest. It was very cold. They gave us a blanket, but one of our “guards” took it away. Then one of us was taken away, and we were told he had been killed. We heard gunshots that night, but we never saw a body. I was so scared, but somehow, I had peace. I just knew he wasn’t dead.

My Release

Days passed. Then we got news that money had come, but only the driver would be released. I was devastated. I stood up and asked to go and urinate, but instead, I sat on the floor and began to cry. The driver saw me crying and said, “Is it not you who was praying a few minutes ago? Your problem is that you pray, but you don’t have faith.” Those words gave me peace.

The next day came, and no one was released. But on the 3rd of February, 2024—the following day—the driver and I were released.

The Aftermath

After I was released from captivity in Zamfara, I spent two months in the hospital. It was while I was there that I called my sin partner. Looking back now, I realise God already knew my heart. He must have seen that I wasn’t ready to let go of that idol in my life, so He went ahead of me and made a way. When I called, he told me, “I’ve given my life to Christ. I can’t continue in this sin anymore.” It was hard, but I accepted it. And in the end, I was fine.

God also healed me from every single sickness I was diagnosed with during my time in the hospital. His healing was not just physical; it was complete, body and soul.

Reconnecting with God

After a long time of running, I finally reconnected with God’s Lighthouse family in Abuja. My first encounter with the church was all the way back in 2016. A friend of mine who worshipped there had invited me, and I went. But I came very late, and I couldn’t understand much. My sister, with whom I was living, wouldn’t let me stay out too late, so I went home early and didn’t return. But I remember I would see them in the hostel during their morning devotions. They loved singing one song in particular: “I choose the way of the Lord.” I could never bring myself to join them.

God’s Pursuit

In 2018, a young man approached me at Plaza in Uyo. He told me to turn away from my ways and give my life to Christ. It really touched me. But a few days later, I forgot about it.

Then in 2019, I saw him again. He asked me, “Have you read your Bible today?” I said yes. He asked, “Where did you read?” I told him about the passage where the man tried to hold the Ark of the Covenant and was struck dead. I said I didn’t understand why God would kill someone who was just trying to help. He looked at me and said, “Only God sees the heart. And even when we mean well, we can’t help God. Obedience is better.” That word stayed with me.

The Turning Point

Fast forward to 2023, and God did it again. I was in the hospital after my release, and Sister Edidiong Paul came with two other sisters to visit me. I had also reached out to Sister Aniebiet. That was the turning point. I really gave my life to Christ this time, for real. It hasn’t been easy. Staying consistent has been a struggle. But I am here fully, and by God’s grace, I’m not going back.

Gratitude

So today, Church, I stand here with a heart full of thanks.

I want to thank God for showing me mercy.
For saving my life in Zamfara,
For ensuring that none of us died,
For delivering me not just from men but from the enemy within.
And most of all, for shining His light into my life after years of running from Him.
May His name alone be praised.