“They Spoke Tiv”: Freed Law School Student Debunks Police Rescue Claim, Details Ordeal in Benue Kidnapping

David Obiora, a Nigerian Law School student recently freed after being abducted in Benue State, has refuted official claims of a rescue by security operatives—insisting that ransom payments secured their release.

Obiora, who was kidnapped alongside five other law students on July 26, 2025, recounted his harrowing six-day ordeal in an interview with Vanguard. He maintained that the abductors were not Fulani herders, as commonly assumed, but men who spoke the Tiv language, and operated with impunity from within their local community.

“Let the record be clear,” Obiora stressed. “The Nigeria Police did not rescue us. The Law School did not rescue us. The Council of Legal Education did not rescue us. We were released after our families and friends raised and paid the ransom.”

According to Obiora, the group of abductors—about ten men, four of whom carried AK-47 rifles—attacked their bus around 9 p.m. along the Zakibiam-Mukari Expressway, near the town of Jootar.

“We were six law students in the bus with the driver, three other passengers heading to Cameroon, and a woman, who works in Anambra State, who was going on holiday to Yola,” he said. “The bus was driven 20 kilometers into the bush until it got stuck. More armed men arrived on motorcycles, and we were led even deeper into the forest.”

At the hideout, they met four others already in captivity: a non-teaching staff member of the Federal University Wukari, a corps member named Dauda Wisdom, a pastor recovering from surgery, and another unidentified man.

Obiora disclosed that each of the abducted students was released only after a ransom of ₦10 million was paid.

He also revealed chilling details of life in captivity: “Children as young as two to three years old were playing with guns in front of us. The bandits cocked their rifles in front of these children like it was normal. Their wives were the ones cooking for us, fetching water—mud water—for drinking.”

Obiora said the kidnappers were from the same area and largely unchallenged. “They are from the same community where we were held. It seems the entire community has been overpowered or subdued. No one dares speak out.”

He identified the gang’s leader as “Matthew,” believed to be a deserter or dismissed soldier, and described another member named David who openly boasted about his nine years in the kidnapping trade.

“He told us he hasn’t been home in years. He claimed to have bought a Highlander SUV and another car for his wife. His children are in school and live well. But he cannot furnish or visit his own house because he’s a wanted man.”

Matthew, the leader, allegedly told them he receives spiritual protection from a ‘juju man’ in Kano. “He said the army can’t kill him unless it’s the day God says he’ll die. He believed the ‘juju’ man would subdue any army that came after him.”

Obiora described the conditions in the bush as appalling: “We ate only once a day, and the food was unhealthy. We drank muddy water—the kind you wouldn’t use to wash a car.”

After their release, Obiora said they trekked for hours through thick forest into Taraba State, eventually finding a restaurant near a motor park where they spent the night. Later, a manager with their transport company helped them continue their journey to Yola.

Despite their escape, Obiora’s revelations raise fresh concerns over the growing threat of localised kidnapping gangs and the effectiveness of Nigeria’s security response—especially as officials continue to issue misleading claims.