Oyo abduction: Police race against time as fear grips the region
By: Abudu Olalekan
They took them in broad daylight.
Around 9:30 a.m., Friday. Schools were in session. Kids were at their desks. Teachers were teaching.
Then — gunfire. Shouting. Chaos.
By the time it was over, bandits had snatched students and teachers from three schools in Oriire, Oyo State. Baptist Nursery and Primary School, Yawota. Community Grammar School. L.A. Primary School, Esiele. Gone.
Seven kids from Community Secondary School. Eighteen children and seven teachers from First Baptist. One man — Michael Oyedokun — beheaded.
And just like that, fear exploded.
Not just in Oriire. Across Ogbomoso. Ajaawa. The whole zone. Parents ran. Schools shut down. Kids jumped out of windows. Rumours flew faster than facts.
Someone said bandits stormed LAUTECH.
Another said they’d already taken over parts of town.
Panic spread like fire on dry grass.
But here’s what actually happened: nothing. At least, not at the university.
LAUTECH put it plainly — no, the school wasn’t closed. No invasion. Students are still writing exams. Management called the closure rumour “completely false.” Same with the police — they said the so-called “bandit sighting” in Ogbomoso? False alarm.
Turns out, it was an NSCDC officer visiting his wife for her birthday. With two civilians. In a Toyota Venza. Some teachers argued with them. Kids saw strangers. Started talking. Next thing you know — full-blown panic across towns.
Still. You can’t blame people for being scared.
Because the real attack? It happened. It was brutal. And those kids — they’re still missing.
IGP Tunji Disu didn’t waste time. Sent more detectives straight from Force HQ in Abuja. Joined the joint security team already on ground. They’re hunting leads. Chasing shadows. Doing everything to bring those children home — alive.
A police source told Reportersroom:
“The government is leaving no stone unturned. These kids will breathe free again soon.”
Hopeful words. But parents need action. Not promises.
Meanwhile, traditional rulers in Ogbomosoland gathered. Spoke with one voice: We need soldiers. Now.
The Alapa of Apa, Akin Akintola, laid it bare:
“Police can’t handle this alone. We need a military base near the forest reserve in Oriire. Not a station. A base. With artillery. With troops.”
Because this isn’t just crime anymore. It’s war.
Bandits once stuck to the North. Now they’re here. In the Southwest. Moving through forests, hitting schools, killing teachers, kidnapping kids. Farmers won’t go to their farms. Parents won’t send kids to class.
And elections are coming. How do you vote when your village has been emptied by fear?
OPC is done waiting. Wasiu Afolabi, their leader, said it loud:
“Yorubaland is under attack. We warned. Nobody listened.”
Now they’re calling on governors to arm local groups — hunters, vigilantes, OPC itself. Let us fight. Let us go into the forests.
Sunday Igboho too — he’s ready. Says he’s “battle-ready” with his men. Just needs government approval to move.
“We won’t fold our hands while our people are butchered,” he said.
Strong words. Desperate times.
And the Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria? They’re furious.
Pastor Francis Oke called the beheading of Michael Oyedokun a “sacrilege.” Said the video — where he’s bound, humiliated, then killed — broke their hearts.
“This isn’t just crime,” he said. “It’s an attack on Nigeria’s soul.”
They’ve warned before. Banditry would spread. Now it has. Crossed the Niger. Reached the Southwest.
And the state? Feels absent.
When armed men storm schools and carry off children like sacks of rice — something’s broken. The social contract is gone.
We don’t need more statements. We need boots on the ground. Guns in the right hands. Leadership that acts — not talks.
For now, the search continues.
Prayers are flying. Parents are weeping.
And somewhere in those dark forests, children wait.
