From Chibok to Ogbomoso: Nigeria has failed to protect school children from bandits for over 12 Years — and we’re getting too used to it
When Michael Oyedokun, a mathematics teacher, went to work on Friday, May 16, he did not presume that he would not return home. As it has been rampant in Nigeria for some years now, armed bandits stormed three schools in the Ahoro-Esiele/Yawota axis of Ogbomoso, in Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State, kidnapping students and staff members, including Mr Oyedokun, and he never came home.
On Monday, May 18, Governor Seyi Makinde confirmed that the teacher had been killed by the bandits while in captivity. A video had already gone viral showing the manner of his death. He was beheaded.
The attack abducted over 30 pupils, students and teachers from Community Grammar School, Baptist Nursery and Primary School, and L.A. Primary School. In one of the videos that circulated, the principal of Community High School, Esiele, Alamu F.O., recorded herself from inside the bush: “We have been here since Friday. I’m making this video to ask for help from everyone, starting from the federal government, Oyo State Governor, Seyi Makinde, Christian Association of Nigeria, and all well-meaning Nigerians. Please help us. We need help.”
The videos generated some outrage online, and the president and other public figures urged the Nigerian Armed Forces to ensure that the abductees return home. Promises have been made, but it seems like Nigeria has moved on to the next news cycle.
I am not going to stand here and pretend I have the answers. I believe that the government cannot like these incidents of abductions, kidnappings, murder, and violence, but the efforts have not worked so far. I do not know what the government should do next, what tactical formation the security agencies need to deploy, or what political architecture would fix a crisis this deep.
What I know is that this has been broken for a long time, and we have grown used to it. That is the most frightening thing of all. Not the bandits. Our own acceptance.
The Nigeria we have become accustomed to
In April 2014, 276 mostly Christian female students aged 16 to 18 were abducted from the Government Girls Secondary School in Chibok, Borno State, by Boko Haram, and the outrage was global. The hashtag #BringBackOurGirls trended globally for weeks, with the First Lady of the United States, Michelle Obama, putting up the sign alongside other notable figures worldwide.
There were marches in Lagos, London, and Los Angeles. The Nigerian government, shamed into motion, signed international declarations and promised new frameworks for school safety. It felt, in the way things feel when the world is watching, like something might actually change.
Since that night in Chibok, Amnesty International has documented at least 17 cases of mass abductions in which at least 1,700 children were seized from their schools by gunmen and taken into the bush. Save the Children has counted more than 1,600 children abducted or kidnapped across northern Nigeria in the decade following Chibok alone.
In February 2018, approximately 110 schoolgirls were abducted again from Dapchi in Yobe State. In December 2020, more than 500 boys were abducted by masked gunmen from a secondary school in Kankara, Katsina. Between December 2020 and February 2021, a series of incidents saw over 600 schoolchildren abducted across Zamfara, Katsina, and Niger states.
The Nigerian government, in the aftermath of Chibok, endorsed the Safe Schools Declaration and adopted a Safe School Initiative for Nigeria with an initial $10 million pledge to help make schools safer. Human Rights Watch says the initiative has faced problems and has seen a decline in momentum over the years, with little or no progress in fortifying schools.
In 2021, Nigeria’s then-Senate President Ahmad Lawan declared, following an investigation, that the initiative was “designed to fail.” We funded a programme to protect our children from being abducted from their classrooms, and we designed it to fail.
The silence that is not really silence
President Tinubu issued a statement. He described the killing as barbaric and said the bandits and their collaborators “will face the full wrath of the law.” He also renewed his call for the establishment of state police, urging the National Assembly to accelerate the passage of the relevant legislation. These measures sound proactive, but we have been discussing state police for the better part of a decade while thousands of students have been abducted during the same time.
Peter Obi described the killing as not just a security challenge but “a failure of collective humanity.” The Ooni of Ife, Oba Adeyeye Ogunwusi, said attacks on schools represent “a direct assault on the future of the country,” and that children and teachers must never become victims of criminal activities. Teachers in Ogbomoso took to the streets carrying placards, chanting solidarity songs, and demanding government intervention.
Nollywood actor Kolawole Ajeyemi, who is from Ogbomoso, shared the hostage videos and wrote: “OGBOMOSO people need help please.” Another celebrity observed, “If people can be kidnapped in Ibadan and a teacher beheaded with no fear, it’s closer to home to anyone than you think. This can be anyone. The government can’t turn a blind eye seeing this happen and think the most important thing is an election.”
The government can’t turn a blind eye to these happenings. But here is the uncomfortable truth — the government is not fully blind. It sees. It condemns. It deploys. It holds press conferences. The Assistant Inspector General of Police relocated his command headquarters to Ogbomoso. Six suspects were arrested. Governor Makinde pledged to listen to whatever the abductors demanded. All of this is real, and some of it may even work.
But none of it addresses why this keeps happening. Not the tactical response — the structural rot underneath it.
What we are really saying when we say nothing
When the Chibok girls were taken, at least we screamed. Twelve years later, we have learned to process these events like weather reports. Bad today, maybe better tomorrow, nothing to be done about the forecast. The beheading of Michael Oyedokun, a man whose only crime was showing up to teach fractions and algebra to children in Oyo State, will trend for two or three days. Then something else will happen, and we will pivot.
As of April 2024, ten years after the Chibok kidnapping, 82 of those original girls remained missing and presumed captive. The Nigerian government had, in the words of one observer, “largely moved on, beset by competing issues.”
I am begging — as a citizen, as someone who believes this country is still capable of being better than this — that those with power use it. Not after the next election cycle. Not after the surveillance aircraft that Oyo State procured for ₦7.7 billion in July 2025 finishes being reassembled. Now. With urgency proportional to the horror of what is happening.
Because right now, somewhere in the country, there are children who went to school last Friday and have not come home. And a mathematics teacher named Michael Oyedokun will never teach another lesson.
