₦airaland Forum

Someone should please summarize, I’m too lazy to read this.

post=85490636:
Lol .
Some Black men don't like to read at all, at all!
Why now.
It's worth reading guys.

Oya summarise it for us then...

I read it and I know it is now time to leave this country.

I have believed in it long enough, my belief for something better seems like a fantasy now.

Thank you Nigeria.

Crazy stuff; organized shit going on

First hand abductee chronicle,the literal presentation was superb,the experience was urgly and the freedom worth it..All glory be to God...

We thank almighty God that you were eventually released...

Maxymilliano:
Continues ...

Facing the killers

Gradually, the sun began to creep out from the East, and as the day lit up, I had to offer the morning prayers from my heart. Islam allows its faithful to pray that way in such a situation. I never expected the criminals who spent the night playing music off their phones, smoking cigarettes, and marijuana to think about praying in the morning.

At about 7 am, Sergeant Sniper announced: “Now is time for you to say hi to your folks at home.” We got back our phones to enquire about the progress made concerning the ransom. I also spoke to my wife and was encouraged by the sense of calm in her voice. She asked if I was tortured, I said no. She asked if I was allowed to pray. I said no. I quickly told her not to worry that I was okay. She said my colleagues had been calling and assuring her that they were working on my release. I knew inside she was broken. But she still managed to take the kids to school. I battled to stop tears off my eyes.

At about 7.30 am, the kidnappers repainted their faces with charcoal, and they asked us to move to another location. We found another rocky space and sat under the morning sun. They had breakfast, and we had nothing.

Since our abduction, the other three captives and I had no time to know each other. It was time to introduce ourselves. One of them, a heavy-set man from Plateau State, had what most of us lacked: the grace to fall asleep easily. The second, more elderly, was an Igala from Kogi State. He understood very little Hausa and relied on us for translations. The last abductee, also an Igala, was about the age of this writer.

As we waited in silence, one of the kidnappers, the second most elderly, asked for our passcodes to unlock our phones. I call him Sergeant ICT because of his ability to frisk phones and apps, searching for information about our lives and what we do out there.

He was able to find some photos on the phones of two of my abducted colleagues, which the kidnappers said did not match their claims of not having money or being rich. For that, the two men were dragged to a rock top where they thoroughly flogged.

While they were away, I and the man from Jos were left with Sergeant Elder who approached us and said, “As you can see, your friends there are suffering because they were not honest people. They lied about not having money but only for us to find out that they live big lives, have big houses, and drive luxurious cars. But for you, we have not found anything contrary; at least you have not lied that you can’t raise the money we are demanding. Your people back at home are assuring us they would do their best to raise something good and substantial. So that is why we have not touched you for now. But should they fail, I’m sorry. You see, every day, I pray that I should stop this kidnapping business. And I pray this should be my last. But don’t make me do what I never intended to do before I quit.”

Our whipped colleagues returned with red eyes, and they were given phones to make calls again.

Sergeant ICT went back to work immediately. He called out at me and asked for my passcode again. I gave him, and he began to frisk my phone. I became worried, then scared, as I monitored if he was done with the phone. He was still on it. At about 8.30 am, my fears came to reality. He had seen something that excited him. He called Sergeant Small and Sergeant Elder to look at my phone.

I knew what it was. A photograph of me in military helmet and fragmented jacket. I took the photo when we were on an embedded trip with soldiers to some towns in northern Borno. Their excitement soared as they flipped through the photo file. I glanced towards them, and I saw Sergeant Small staring at me with a deadly cold look on his face.

Sergeant ICT took the phone to Sergeant Sniper, who was sitting a distance behind us. He blew out a whistle in a surprised tone and jumped up. He cocked his rifle and came in front of me. My heart pounded. I was horrified. I managed to pray – may my last, or maybe for God’s intervention. The armed man stepped back and put his hands on the trigger, and two other captives behind me moved away. And then he said in Hausa, “So you are a bloody hypocrite and a liar. Tell us the truth and deny that you are not a soldier. You hypocrite!”

I don’t know what gave me the confidence, but I laughed out and said, “soldier?” I said, “Oh, you guys saw the photos in my phone where I was putting on a helmet and frag jacket, right?”

I explained my work as a journalist and how I had to use the military kit for protection. I explained in every possible way I could to convince them and repeatedly swore with all that I hold dear that I was not a soldier.

I brought out my ID card and showed it to them, explaining that a soldier does not carry civilian identification. Somehow, God intervened through Sergeant ICT, who said I should keep quiet as he recalled my friend telling him the previous day that I was a journalist.

But Sergeant Small, who never liked my face all the while insisted that Sergeant Sniper should shoot me that I was lying because he had been watching me since the previous day, I looked like a soldier. After some minutes of argument, the ring leader hearkened to the voice of his elders and left me.

Sergeant Elder left a gruesome warning nonetheless. “Well, whether you are a soldier or not, it does not matter. As far as we are concerned, you may not leave here alive.” His words sent a chill down my spine.

First meal
The man in charge of frisking phones suddenly became generous with his skills. He told us how and why some kidnapped persons don’t make out alive.

“You Nigeria people are always the cause of your problems,” he said with disgust.

“Why do you take photos of what you are not? You take photos in places or cars that don’t belong to you and keep them on your phone? That is what we use to judge whether you have money or not. We don’t care if it was real or fake when we notice that what you claim is in contrast with what we see on your phones, you are gone. You guys are lucky we are god-fearing people.”

I was also lucky I left the other phone in the car.

It was at about 8 am. And it was time to move again. We walked back into the forests on the hilltop until we got to a location with tall trees. There, they said we should sit. We had to trample on dry leaves and rotten woods to find places to sit.

After about five hours of periodic calls for updates on each of our families’ progress concerning the ransom, they later brought garri, mixed with salt and pepper fetched from a black plastic bag, and presented it to us to eat. We had no option than to fetch and eat even though it was served as a dog’s food. The oldest amongst us did not want to eat, but I advised him against rejecting the meal. We all ate and drank the water they fetched for us.

From time to time, Sergeant Small would angrily slap or flog some of us if he felt that the ransom being sourced was not forthcoming as they anticipated. We kept begging for mercy.

Suddenly all our phones started running out of power. My Infinix still had enough battery, so the three others had to depend on my phone to contact their families.

It was late in the afternoon, and the rains began to drizzle. Our abductors were not bothered. They understood the jungle and said it would soon pass away, and that the trees would protect us all. They were right

”You Nigeria people are always the cause of your problems,” he said with disgust.


It is very clear that these people are not Nigerians. Since from the time when they abducted and raped that Yoruba woman while she was travelling from Lagos, it was clear these were not Nigerians.

Buhari has empowered his Fulani kinsmen from Mali, Central African Republic, Niger, Libya and the Fulani parts of Cameroon.

Sadly, we warned the Yorubas when they were supporting Beau Harry in 2015. We pleaded with them that in the end, they and the entire country will suffer for it.

Now look at this. How will your hate of Jonathan drive you to cut your nose to spite your face?
My goodness.

How much did he pay as ransom

OP, you didn't identify your abductors, they were not Fulanis and didn't speak Fulfude. They are IPOB terrorists according to some herdsmen defenders. Anyway, thank God for the deliverance.

Hmm...this country has been sold

You ppl complaining of reading it should just scan the story. You don't have to read every part

It's indeed a terrible experience... Nigeria is becoming a danger zone as the days go by. Some people are lucky to leave alife and unscathed while other turn up dead.

May we never victims of such circumstance.

CapitalHYC:
Read am by yourself o ..me I Don japa I no dey read any thing sir

You won use laugh kill me.

I know 95% will not read this through.
Op this is a well represented content.to all you lazy youths get your priorities right if this story can't interest you then your mental capability is questionable.

post=85490636:
Lol .
Some Black men don't like to read at all, at all!
Why now.
It's worth reading guys.

Words on marble.......If you want to hide anything from a black man...............

Put it inside a book,that's why they always remain behind.

Journalist u didn't tell us how much u later paid as Ransome

All this kidnappers na them sabi sha. If they kidnap me, they won't even get up to30k from my family

How much was paid??

I read every word and I thank God for your lives. A lot of people where not so Lucky.

I actually read every bit of your story

I weep for some Nigerian youths. See them shouting that the write up is too long, that the OP should summarise.... This is a matter of personal security and you can't read. The lessons in this write up is so much that it could save your life one day.


Back to the story, it's obvious our security forces are aiding this kidnapping or that they don't have the capacity to curtail it. But what baffles me is that why the silence from the FG and security chiefs on this issue. If it's Shia or ipob, all of them will be roaring like lions.

I thank God for saving you.

I read am from start to finish, thank God for your life

Wowwwwwwwwwww,what. A horrific journey.
So sorry

So touching

Maxymilliano:
Worst moment

At about 2 pm, Gbenga announced that he had arrived Jos. And the kidnappers were surprised at his speed. They asked how much he was bringing, and he gave the figure. Sergeant Sniper was livid. He collected the phone and said with a deadly cold voice: “If you come here with anything less than what we asked you to bring, just consider your trip a total waste of time.”

I became scared, especially with the looks in his eyes. I begged to be given the phone to speak with my friend. I said, “Gbenga, please kindly try all that you can to make sure the ransom is complete – my situation is different, and they have eyes on me.” Gbenga said, “Don’t worry; everything is under control.”

It was then I knew my friend was trying to avoid a situation they would be asking for more money, so he had to continue feigning there was no much to offer. I told them he would get the remaining amount from a friend in Jos, who agreed to lend us some. They said that was fine.

They asked my friend to alert them as soon as he met with the other three ransom bearers in Jos. And when he did, they put the phone on speaker so that all of them could hear what was being discussed. To our hearing, they said each ransom bearer should declare what they brought and all of them took time to do so. They summed up the total and then said: “okay, get the two of you to bring the money and make sure the vehicle you are coming with can convey all of you plus four people back to Jos.”

At that point, I noticed Sergeant Sniper brought out all the bullets from his AK47, cleaned the gun, and began to insert the bullets into the cartridge one after the other. He had to offer some incantation on each ammunition, touch it with his tongue, before inserting it into the cartridge. I became worried. Would these guys let me go after collecting the money? I wasn’t sure they were convinced I was not a soldier after seeing me in a military jacket and a helmet. I was even more disturbed that they were not hiding their faces again – if they would spare me, they wouldn’t have allowed me to see their faces. So I went into prayers.

“Yellow, are you praying for us?” asked Sergeant Smile, who was sitting far behind me. They all called me Yellow. I didn’t know what to say , but I had to respond to his question. “Yes,” I said. “Prayers are good, right? I’m praying that this should end well for all of us.” He nodded, smiling as usual.

Sergeant Elder who normally advised on what to accept concerning ransom, took over all communications. He asked the ransom bearers to call him each time they arrived at a specific location, and that when they finally arrived at Jagindi village, they should stop, put on their inner light and call to notify him.

When Gbenga called to announce that they had reached Gidan Waya, it was about 5.30 PM. So they announced to us that it was time to start moving towards the point of exchange.

We had to wait for some minutes for a herdsman who was spotted far down the valley grazing his herds, to move out of sight. While waiting, we also spotted three young boys making their way home from the farms.

All cleared, we began to descend the hills, and in some minutes, we were all walking along a footpath. As we moved on in silence, Sergeant Smile walked up to me and said, smiling, “Oga Yellow, I know you are happy that you are going to see your wife.” I said, “yes, and children as well.” He walked on to join Sergeant Sniper, who was ahead leading the movement.

After some time, we veered off the footpath and began to walk through a beans farm. It was an open space, but these guys were not bothered if anyone would spot them. They knew the entire terrain, and they seemed to know where to avoid being seen.

It was getting darker when we arrived at a stream. On the other side of the stream, the five had a brief meeting, and then a call came from Gbenga that they had arrived at Jagindi village. Sergeant Sniper took over the phone and described how they should move from there to the point of collecting the ransom. A vivid description was given.

Sergeants Sniper, Small, and Smile left us to go and collect the ransom. They had two AK47 with them. Sergeants Elder and ICT stayed back with us.

After about 10 minutes, Sergeant Elder said we should start moving towards the same direction the trio took. We began to move, but this time we could barely see our paths, we kept on bumping into shrubs, but our escorts were okay.

We walked for about 20 minutes; then, Sergeant Elder asked us to stop and wait for further communication from those that went to collect the ransom. As we waited, they asked us to look up at the sky. The effect blinds you when you look down. It was a strategy to constrain our sights should we attempt anything unexpected.

Walk to freedom

It was the longest wait for me. It started drizzling, but who cared? It was getting to about 40 minutes, no call, and no sign of movement. From a distance, we could see floodlights of cars moving. But we were still far away from the highway. I still doubted if they would honour their words to release us after collecting the money. Then I heard Sergeant Elder speak on his phone, and he said, “okay.” He turned to us and said, “Time to move.”

We started hobbling and stumbling after them. It was dark. We walked for about 10 minutes then we found ourselves on an earth route. There, we sighted three human silhouettes coming towards us. Those were Sergeants Sniper, Small, and Smile. My heart began to pound fast. Is it going to be or not?
https://i1.wp.com/media.premiumtimesng.com/wp-content/files/2020/01/PhotoPictureResizer_200101_030839589_crop_1080x861.jpg?zoom=3&w=600&h=478&ssl=1
Haruna few hours after he was released by abductors

As we walked towards them, Sergeant ICT grabbed my hands gently and said, “Abdulkareem, when you guys get home, please pray for us so that we could leave this kind of job.” I slowed down, looked at him and said “May God grant you the grace to use this money wisely so that you can stop this business and be a better citizen.” He said, “Amen, thank you.” And I said, in my heart. “Bastard!”

I doubled up to join the others ahead, and then Sergeant Sniper called out to me “Yellow, here is your phone, put on the torch and follow this footpath straight ahead it will take you to the highway, there you will meet your people.” We muttered words of appreciation, and I took the phone from him, but the battery was then at 10 percent, so the torch app won’t work. I looked at Sergeant Small, he had a bag he collected from one of my abducted colleagues hanging heavily on his shoulder. He got the ransom!

Papa said his phone still had some power, so he offered his torch, and we continued to stumble through the rough path. It took us about 10 minutes of walk, at a point, we thought we had missed the road. But he said “straight,” so we walked on.

My friend later told me they were asked to park by the road facing the direction of Jos. After some minutes, two persons emerged from the bush, one with a gun and hurriedly collected the money. They instructed them to open the bonnet of the car and then dashed back into the forest. It was Sergeants Small and Smile that received the money, while Sniper hid in the bush waiting to shoot should anything go wrong.

We got to the main road, and I sighted a car parked with its bonnet opened. There was no sign of persons inside. So I called out, “Gbenga”, and my friend responded, I’m here, enter quickly. Four of us crammed into the back seat of the Volkswagen Vectra, and off we zoomed to freedom.

On the way, we exchanged words of thanks and congratulations. I asked if my friend called my main lines. He said, “yes, it was deposited at the police station in Jagindi.”

The police handed over to me my bag and its inventoried contents, after which I was bid good luck. I was not debriefed; I was not asked to write a statement.

As we drove that night to Jos, the police warned us to be extra careful that the roads had been plagued by similar attacks in the past days. In my mind, I said, “don’t worry, it has been bought.”

I also pondered over the event of the past three days. How easy it has become to be kidnapped, how easy it was for unscrupulous youth to make money, and how easy it is to die here, and I sighed. “That is the hazard of being in Nigeria.”

https://www.premiumtimesng.com/news/headlines/370544-kidnapped-and-released-nigerian-journalist-narrates-shocking-experience.html

What got me is is this Line "They said he was “wicked and lies like Buhari.”


If you survive in this country Nigeria I expect you to survive anywhere in the whole world.


First time I Read and Finish a very long post on Nairaland.

I read everything and it's worth the read and time.
Thanks to Gbenga your friend and everyone who made your freedom possible.
It's indeed traumatic but what can we do when 'the roads has been bought'

This is Horibble, So people did not even read this? Wow, Africans are sooo lazy even in reading such story......SMH,
A kidnaper told the Ransom Bearer that the Road has been bought?? Bought from who? Police, Army? definitely security Agents, because After there release the forces supposed to sweep that forest that night and shhot them, also i think those farming villages all knew kidnapers are using there village as hideout but they will never Report it, North is our problem,
I was shocked when Kidnapers also said Buhari is wicked and a liar, he promised them jobs and failed, that is to show you that North never voted Buhari in 2019, it was rigged massively, Oh God, this is why i have refused to come back to Nigeria, most of you who are not bothered, think about this, what if they bring down this madness to Lagos to benin way? and begin to kidnap southerners like this?
sergent smile, elder and snier will die by bullets May God punish them all

All through the ordeal, there was constant communication via mobile phone and the police did nothing to plot the geo-cordinate of their movements.

It's amazing that even when these kidnapers use public infrastructure that is within the reach of the security, they couldn't put two and two together to apprehend these criminals.

Very disheartening

Wow!! You went through hell. Thank God for you guys.

I read everything. A lot of things were revealed in this story.

The police of each zones should use helicopters to drop armed officers to comb the bushes and jungles, from time to time, if our government can invest in laser guided helicopters...these abductors need clearings in the bush to chill and rest with their kidnapped victims. The federal government must invest in security infrastructure and more trained personnel to routinely comb the jungles and bushes for surveillance
#combthebushesandjungles#