Nigeria: One of the Kidnapped NYSC Members Narrate their Ordeal in the Hands of their Captors

The Victim on Mic Narrating His Ordeal

I was one of the kidnapped NYSC members. I didn’t think I would survive.

We had just finished the three-week orientation camp in Bayelsa. We were travelling back toward Abuja in an organised vehicle. I remember the road — Aloma-Egane Expressway in Ofu, Kogi. One moment we were moving. The next, gunshots. Armed men came out of the bush and blocked the buses.

The driver tried to run. They dragged him out. They opened the doors and started pulling people. They were shooting into the air, flogging and kicking us as they marched us into the forest. Some people escaped into the bush. I wasn’t one of them.

They made us sit on the ground facing down. If you raised your head even a little, they hit you with the flat side of a cutlass or machete. I got hit twice on the back of my head. After that I kept my face in the dirt. They called people out one by one to “interview” them — name, where you’re from, where you’re going, what you do, who your people are.

When they got to me I told them I was a corps member coming from camp, that my parents were church people, that I was just a student trying to serve. I was hoping they would have some pity. They asked what I had to pay for myself. I told them whatever was in my account — two hundred, maybe three hundred thousand. They laughed.

They tied our hands behind our backs. They used pieces of our own clothes to cover our eyes. You couldn’t tell morning from night. We didn’t eat. Sometimes they would give a little soft drink in a disposable cup. Most of the time they were harsh. Sometimes they would loosen one person’s hands a bit because the blood wasn’t flowing and the pain was too much. If they heard movement they would come and tighten it again.

They brought us out later and started calling family numbers. They began with huge amounts — millions. They kept saying I was the biggest person there so I would pay more. They reduced it later, but it was still money nobody in my family had.

I saw them use a cutlass on someone in front of us. After they finished with him they told the rest of us to stand up and keep walking. I asked myself if I still had a chance to live. That was when the real panic started.

They told us we would stay in that bush for one month and then they would kill us. They said if anybody moved without permission they would shoot the person. Nobody moved. We were too scared.

I didn’t think I would come out of that forest. I kept thinking about my family, about how they would hear I was gone. I kept praying quietly because even speaking too loud felt dangerous.

By God’s mercy and the work of the soldiers, we were rescued. Not everyone made it the same way. Some of us came out with injuries, scars on the head, swollen hands, and a fear that still sits in the chest.

I am one of the ones who survived. I didn’t think I would. That is the truth.