By By Aminat Baruwa-Ashafa
As I watched the video of the husband of one of the victims of the recent school kidnapping in Oyo State, I could not hold back my tears. The man, a lecturer who introduced himself to Governor Seyi Makinde as the Dean of Renewable Natural Resources in Iseyin, broke down uncontrollably after addressing the governor. His pain was raw. His helplessness was obvious. His wife was in captivity, and there was little he could do.
In that moment, my mind travelled back to April 2014 when the world watched in horror as more than 200 schoolgirls were abducted from Chibok in Borno State. The anguish of parents, the uncertainty surrounding the victims, and the national outrage that followed became defining symbols of Nigeria’s insecurity crisis. More than a decade later, as teachers and students are abducted from schools in Oyo State, one uncomfortable question confronts us: have we truly learnt anything from Chibok?
On May 15, 2026, Oyo State, particularly the Ogbomoso axis, and indeed the entire nation, witnessed another frightening chapter in Nigeria’s security crisis. Armed kidnappers invaded schools in Oriire Local Government Area and abducted a principal, teachers, and dozens of pupils and students in broad daylight. Since then, events have unfolded in increasingly disturbing ways.
For many Nigerians, especially those in the South-West, mass school abductions were often viewed as tragedies associated with distant places and distant headlines. They happened in Chibok. They happened in Kankara. They happened elsewhere. The Oyo incident has shattered that illusion and reminded us that insecurity respects neither geography nor social class.
What has made the situation even more disturbing is the series of videos released by the kidnappers. First came footage of teachers and school administrators introducing themselves and pleading for help. Then came another showing the principal and a teacher carrying a toddler while begging the government not to launch a forceful rescue operation. The sight was heartbreaking. No citizen should have to plead for survival at gunpoint.
The reported killing of one of the abducted teachers, Mr. Michael, deepened the nation’s grief. Beyond the tragedy of a life cut short, the incident sent a chilling message to educators across the country. Teachers saw one of their own. Parents saw the faces of those entrusted with their children’s education and safety. A profession that should command respect increasingly finds itself exposed to dangers that have become part of Nigeria’s daily reality.
Expectedly, the Nigeria Union of Teachers (NUT) condemned the incident, while teachers in Oyo State staged protests. Yet one is compelled to ask whether condemnation alone is enough when teachers and students are under attack. Beyond issuing statements, the union should champion a nationwide school safety agenda, advocate regular security audits of schools, push for emergency response protocols, and demand stronger protection for education workers. An attack on a teacher is not merely an attack on an individual; it is an attack on education itself.
Governor Seyi Makinde of Oyo State has rightly pointed out that governors do not control the military, police, or intelligence agencies. While that constitutional reality cannot be ignored, state governments are not entirely powerless. Investments in school security infrastructure, community intelligence networks, surveillance systems, and rapid emergency response mechanisms can make schools less vulnerable. Prevention is often less costly and more effective than rescue operations.
The Federal Government also has important questions to answer. How many school abductions must occur before school security is treated as a national emergency? Every successful attack on a school sends a dangerous signal to parents and learners. It tells them that education may come at the cost of safety. When fear enters the classroom, learning suffers and the future of a nation is endangered.
At the same time, it is important to emphasise that the safety of educators and learners, important as it is, cannot be separated from the safety of all Nigerians. Farmers, traders, health workers, transport operators, civil servants, traditional rulers, and ordinary citizens across the country have also become victims of kidnapping, banditry, and violent crime. Every Nigerian life matters. The protection of schools deserves special attention because of their role in shaping the future, but the broader responsibility of government remains the same: to guarantee the security of all citizens, regardless of occupation, age, religion, ethnicity, or location.
Yet security operations alone will not solve Nigeria’s kidnapping epidemic. There is another uncomfortable conversation that the country must not continue to avoid. Across many parts of Nigeria, thousands of children grow up without access to quality education, stable family structures, vocational opportunities, or meaningful social support. The Almajiri phenomenon, particularly in its distorted contemporary form, has produced large numbers of vulnerable children exposed to neglect and exploitation.
To be clear, Almajiri children are not criminals and should never be stigmatized as such. They are victims of systemic failure. However, a society that leaves millions of children without adequate care and opportunities should not be surprised when criminal networks find recruits among the neglected and desperate. Combating insecurity therefore requires more than military action. It demands sustained investments in education, child welfare, family support systems, and youth empowerment. The battle against kidnapping begins not only in forests and hideouts but also in classrooms, homes, and communities.
Sadly, while innocent teachers and students remain in captivity, life goes on. Political activities continue. Elections are held. Businesses open and close. Even schools continue to open and close. News cycles move on. Yet somewhere, families wake up each day wondering whether their loved ones will return home alive.
As Nigerians await the safe release of the remaining victims, one can only hope that the country’s security institutions will demonstrate that they are capable of protecting those entrusted with shaping the future of the nation. More importantly, one hopes that this tragedy will not follow the path of many others that generated outrage for a moment before fading into silence.
The tragedy of Chibok was supposed to be a turning point. It was supposed to teach Nigeria that schools require special protection, that intelligence gathering must improve, and that the safety of learners should never be treated as an afterthought. More than a decade later, schoolchildren and educators are still being abducted. That is why the Oyo school kidnapping is more than a local tragedy. It is a national indictment. It is a reminder that lessons identified are not always lessons learnt.
The victims must be rescued. The perpetrators must be brought to justice. Schools must be secured. More broadly, every Nigerian must be able to live, work, travel, learn, and pursue a livelihood without fear of abduction or violence. And all stakeholders: government, security agencies, communities, parents, unions, and civil society—must treat the safety of citizens as a matter of urgent national importance. Anything less would mean that we have learnt very little from Chibok.
