“Today, God Has Taken That Pain Away”: A Father Waits Out 56 Days of Anguish

OYO State – For eight weeks, Professor Wale Alamu carried a weight he could not put down. Every phone call made him flinch. Every knock at the door made his heart race. His wife, Rachael Alamu, principal of Community High School, Ahoro-Esinele, had been marched into a forest at gunpoint on the morning of May 15, along with dozens of her pupils and fellow teachers. For 56 days, he did not know if she was alive.

“For the past eight weeks, I have been living through immense pain,” he said, recalling the moment he learned his wife had finally been freed. “Today, God has taken that pain away.”

The attack came without warning. Armed men riding motorcycles descended simultaneously on three schools in the Esiele and Yawota communities of Oriire Local Government Area, firing shots before seizing pupils and teachers who were already seated in their classrooms. Some of the children taken were as young as two years old. A teacher, Joel Adesiyan, was killed trying to escape. Another, Michael Oyedokun, would later be killed in captivity, his death confirmed only after the kidnappers released a disturbing video.

For families like the Alamus, the following weeks became an unbearable rhythm of waiting. There was no news for days at a time, then fragments — a rumour, a whispered update from a neighbour, a claim on social media that was later denied. The Oyo State Government refused to negotiate or pay ransom, a position that brought both hope and dread to relatives who wanted their loved ones home by any means necessary.

Behind the scenes, security forces mounted what would become a month-long operation, working to identify the kidnappers’ hideouts deep within the Old Oyo National Park forest, cut off their supply lines, and dismantle the network supporting them. Families were not told the details. They simply waited.

Then, on the evening of July 10, word came. All 44 remaining pupils and teachers had been rescued. Nine of the alleged kidnappers were reported neutralised in the operation, and eight others arrested. For Professor Alamu, the news brought an end to a private ordeal that had played out largely away from cameras and headlines — a husband managing a household, comforting frightened relatives, and holding onto hope through nearly two months of silence.

He said the family was overwhelmed with appreciation for everyone who played a role in securing the release, from security agencies to ordinary Nigerians who kept the case alive in public conversation. He called on government at every level to learn from the incident, urging stronger protection around schools and communities near forest reserves that have increasingly become hideouts for armed groups.

His wife and the other rescued teachers and pupils are currently receiving medical care and psychosocial support before being formally reunited with their families. For Professor Alamu, the reunion cannot come soon enough. “The academic expressed appreciation to all those who played roles in securing the victims’ freedom,” he said, “saying the successful rescue reflected the collective efforts of government and Nigerians across religious and social divides.”

As the state moves to absorb the lessons of the Oriire abduction, families like the Alamus are left to quietly rebuild what nearly two months of fear took from them — an ordinary life, uninterrupted by the sound of a phone ringing with news they were afraid to hear.