10 Years After Chibok: Nigerian Families Grapple with the Trauma of Continued School Kidnappings

KADUNA, Nigeria (TAE)— Standing in the doorway, his body frail and coated in grime, a young boy embodies the ongoing crisis in Nigeria. For two years, he was a phantom of sorts, one of the many children seized by armed factions for ransom. However, even ransom payments couldn't secure freedom for 12-year-old Treasure, the only child held back from a group of over 100 schoolchildren abducted in July 2021 in Kaduna State's northwestern region.

Ten years have passed since the infamous Chibok abduction, where 276 schoolgirls were taken, marking the onset of a new era of fear in Nigeria—nearly 100 of those girls remain missing. Since then, over 1,500 students have fallen victim to similar fates as criminal groups exploit such abductions for funding and exerting control over resource-rich, poorly policed areas.

The Associated Press interviewed families who shared a recurring theme of trauma and educational setbacks. Many parents now hesitate to send their children to school, exacerbating an educational crisis in a nation where over 10 million children are already out of school—one of the highest rates globally.

Treasure's cousin Jennifer, kidnapped in March 2021, highlighted the deep scars left by their ordeals. "I have not recovered, my family has not recovered, and Treasure barely talks about it," she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

The kidnappings are not only a humanitarian crisis but also signify a worsening security situation in Nigeria. According to SBM Intelligence, nearly 2,000 people have been kidnapped for ransom this year alone. John Hayab, a local clergyman actively involved in ransom negotiations, pointed out that "kidnapping schoolchildren is a more lucrative way of getting attention and collecting bigger ransoms."

Despite promises from Nigeria's President Bola Tinubu to tackle these issues, progress remains painfully slow. Critics like Nnamdi Obasi, from the International Crisis Group, argue that there is a "lack of will and urgency" from the government to address this escalating crisis.

Treasure's return home after escaping captivity highlights both relief and enduring pain. His grandmother Mary Peter recalled his first words upon return: "He told us he was hungry and wanted to eat." This simple statement underscores the depth of the trauma he endured—his experiences in the notorious Davin Rugu forest, a known haven for kidnappers, left deep physical and emotional scars.

Families like Treasure's continue to pay ransoms, despite a 2022 law outlawing such payments, driven by desperation and the brutal nature of the kidnappers. Emmanuel Audu, Treasure's uncle, shared his harrowing experience of delivering a ransom, only to be captured and tortured himself.

The lasting impact on victims is profound. Jennifer's mother struggles to revive her business after spending most of her resources on ransoms, and the cost of therapy remains prohibitive for many. "Sometimes, when I think about what happened, I wish I did not go to school," Jennifer confessed, her voice tinged with regret. This sentiment is a stark reminder of the fear that continues to haunt those affected by these relentless school kidnappings.