Last week, I raised several lingering questions about the kidnap saga at Ahoro Esinele in Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State. At the time, the victims had spent a little over 40 days in captivity. I had hoped that piece would mark the final chapter in my lamentations about the fate of the toddlers, children, and their teachers held by bandits in a dangerous forest. Alas, here we are, still awaiting their return — 50 days and counting.
On Friday, the Oyo State Government released a statement that, in my view, unduly raised temperatures and encouraged further posers. Signed by the Commissioner for Information, Prince Dotun Oyelade, the statement denied insinuations that the state had paid a ransom for the captives’ release. It described as “far from the truth” claims that the state had paid for the release of the “Oriire 46,” urging the public to discountenance such reports circulating on social media.
When I made enquiries about whether the kidnapped victims had regained their freedom — which would have warranted such a statement — the response I received was neither clearly positive nor negative, but cautiously hopeful. Yet we have clung to hope for weeks, and that hope is rapidly turning into its exact opposite.
According to Prince Oyelade, both the Oyo State government and the Federal Government “have been making concerted efforts to secure the safe release of the abducted children and their teachers; no ransom has been paid to the bandits, either directly or indirectly.” He added that the state government was “working closely with security agencies to ensure the safe release of the abductees and bring this sad episode to a close.” I thought the government would have been made to answer questions about whether it is an anathema to pay a ransom at such a critical point. I don’t think the people of Oyo State would mind if their government pays a ransom and closes the channels of such exchange going forward by doubling efforts on the safe schools initiative.
My decision to revisit this topic stems from a deep desire to see the saga end. However, hints emerging from the theatre of operations suggest the much-expected good news remains some distance away. Sources close to the matter have spoken of an unexpected twist in coordination and, at times, a total takeover of proceedings by one arm of the two levels of government involved.
I had earlier raised questions about politics and the politicisation of the crisis, and I heard even more on that subject during the past week. One source was scheduled to brief another who was in town for that purpose, but phones went dead at the critical moment. The man with the briefing files eventually returned home without delivering his message. There have been too many uninspiring reports emanating from the flanks of this sad saga. The people can only hold on to the belief that their hopes will eventually be renewed.
Perhaps we need to ask further questions: Is there any room for politics in the tragedy of Ahoro-Esinele? What is the role of the office of the National Security Adviser in this emerging saga? Who is supposed to take charge of proceedings in such a kidnapping case?
To be honest, Nigeria’s centralised policing system places primary responsibility on federal authorities in matters of this nature. State governments, however, have crucial roles to play by providing the necessary support and resources to aid successful police or military operations. It is baffling that the kidnappers have evaded the security agencies for so long. Or have they truly escaped detection? I prefer to believe that the agencies are exercising extreme caution with the refrain “let’s not harm the captives by forcing our way through.” Even so, there must be a quicker, more effective way to resolve this type of crisis. The operatives know exactly what needs to be done, and I believe they will eventually take decisive action.
Controversy Over the ‘Ghost Agency’ in the Presidency
Prince Adeniyi Adeyemi Matthew is the self-acclaimed Director General of the Presidential Foreign Intervention Promotion Council, also known as the Presidential Economic Advisory Council (PEAC). His name has dominated public discourse in recent weeks, linked to feats that could compete for Guinness World Records. He is said to have secured office space in the Federal Secretariat using this alleged ghost agency. He has also been photographed with ambassadors of foreign nations and top government officials, including the Chairman of the Economic and Financial Crimes Commission (EFCC) and the Deputy Speaker of the House of Representatives. These images have flooded the media, leaving many wondering how an allegedly non-existent “ghost” agency could operate so boldly within the corridors of power.
Although the matter between Adeyemi and the Chief of Staff to President Bola Ahmed Tinubu, Hon. Femi Gbajabiamila, has been taken to the police — which has filed charges against the self-styled Director General — several critical questions remain unanswered in this unfolding case. The most potent of these questions is directed at the National Assembly, which allocated the sum of N1.3 billion to the agency in the 2026 budget.
As Adeyemi himself confirmed in a press conference last week, the agency appears in the 2026 budget and operates from a suite in the Federal Secretariat. He posed sharp questions to the legislature and to Gbajabiamila:
“The national budget does not emerge in isolation. It passes through multiple layers of technical drafting, executive coordination, ministerial inputs, budget office review, and finally legislative scrutiny by both chambers of the National Assembly, where the Chief of Staff has meritoriously served for a good 20 years — rising from Minority Leader to Majority Leader and eventually Speaker for four years.
“So, the question becomes unavoidable: at what point in this process did references to a non-existent agency allegedly enter the official record? And if they are indeed present in official documentation, what does that imply about the integrity of the process that produced and approved those documents?”
Adeyemi further claimed that the disputed council maintains a domiciliary account and a Treasury Single Account domiciled at the Central Bank of Nigeria.
Key questions persist: What level of scrutiny did the National Assembly apply before approving the agency’s budget? If the agency is real, who created it? Was there any enabling law passed by the National Assembly to legitimise its operations? And which agency defended the budget before the Senate and House of Representatives?
These lapses point to deeper rot within Nigeria’s legislative arm. If the Senate or House of Representatives politicised a document as sensitive as the national budget, its integrity would be seriously compromised. It is little wonder that the Nigerian parliament has one of the worst turnover rates of legislators in the world after each election cycle since 2003.
If the legislature fails to defend the interests of the people, the people will be justified in sending most of these lawmakers packing in the next election. The lawmakers may believe they are secured by singing “on your mandate we shall stand’ refrain, but they should not cry foul when they are rejected by the very constituents who sent them to the chambers. The core duties of a legislator — lawmaking, oversight of the other arms of government, and representation — must be fulfilled. Failure to do so carries inevitable consequences, such as the much-talked-about high turnover of legislators in the chambers after each election cycle. Let us remind them that 2027 is not far away.
(Published by the Sunday Tribune, July 5, 2026.)
