Torn From School, Trapped by Terror: A Nation’s Shame and a Call to Action – Kayode Ogunjobi

Yesterday, the world celebrated children. The hearts of many Nigerians was filled with sorrow and anguish for the thousands of innocent children whose laughter has been stolen by terror, banditry, kidnapping, and violence. While children in other safer places woke up to cakes, gifts, songs, playgrounds, classrooms, and the warmth of their parents’ embrace, many Nigerian children woke up in fear, captivity, forests, and uncertainty.

Many children were missing from the dining tables of their homes and absent from the classrooms where dreams are meant to be nurtured. Many parents are left traumatised and degraded.

We remember with pain the schoolchildren taken away from their schools by terrorists and bandits. We remember the Chibok girls whose story shook the world. We remember the Dapchi schoolgirls, the children abducted from Kuriga, Kankara, Jangebe, Tegina, and recently the children taken away from their school in Oyo. We remember many other children from many other communities whose names never made international headlines. These children did not ask to become symbols of national tragedy. They only wanted education, friendship, safety, and the simple joy of childhood.

Instead of school bells, they hear gunshots.
Instead of bedtime stories, they hear cries and threats.
Instead of learning alphabets and nursery rhymes, they learn fear, trauma, and survival.

How heartbreaking that children who should be competing in mathematics, physics, literature, football, music, spelling bees, and debates are now competing with hunger, terror, and uncertainty for survival. What a pain!

One cannot forget the recent haunting viral video of a helpless toddler strapped to the back of her frightened mother while in captivity. That image should pierce the conscience of any mortal. A child too young to understand hatred, already carrying the burden of insecurity before learning how to speak complete sentences. What future are we preparing for such children?

Shockingly, these horrors have still not provoked the level of urgency, determination, and decisive resolution expected from the government to permanently end banditry, terrorism, and kidnapping, which is gradually becoming an enterprise in parts of the nation.

Must innocent children continue to pay the price for leadership failures?
Must parents continue to sleep with one eye open?
Must schools become hunting grounds for criminals?
Must childhood become a season of fear in a country so blessed by God?

Must Nigerians continue to normalize evil before action is taken?
Must innocent blood continue to flow before security becomes a true national priority?
Must parents continue to pray every morning simply to see their children return safely from school?

The lives of Nigerian children must never be treated as statistics for news headlines or political debates.
How would those in authority feel if the children in captivity were their own sons and daughters?
What if they were their nieces, nephews, cousins, or grandchildren?
Would the silence remain this loud?
Would the response still be this slow?

Nigerian children already have enough to contend with: poverty, hunger, poor healthcare,
broken educational systems, unemployment fears, and uncertainty about tomorrow.
Taking them into captivity to complicate their pains is a sin against humanity.

As Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o wrote in Weep Not, Child, “The child was the father of the man.” Every child destroyed today is a future endangered tomorrow. And as Nelson Mandela once said, “There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.” The response mechanism to the travails of these children is a monumental shame and national tragedy!

To every Nigerian child living in fear, in displacement camps, in captivity, in villages ravaged by violence, and in homes overshadowed by uncertainty: please do not lose hope.
Your tears are seen.
Your cries are heard.
Your dreams matter.
Your lives matter.

There is still hope for Nigeria.
There are still people who care.
There are still voices crying out for justice.
Tomorrow can be better than today.

Please remain courageous, prayerful, hopeful, and determined despite the darkness around you. Your destinies shall not be buried by violence. Your future shall not be sacrificed on the altar of terrorism. You shall come to safety and fulfil your purpose.

To government at all levels:
wake up.
Enough of statements without lasting solutions.
Enough of condolences without action.
Enough of promises without protection.

Security must become practical, visible, proactive, and uncompromising. Schools must be secured. Intelligence gathering must improve. Criminal networks must be dismantled completely. Communities must be protected. The lives of Nigerian children must become more valuable than political calculations and endless rhetoric.

The blood of Nigerian children, or any Nigerian for that matter, should never be sacrificed on the altar of banditry, terrorism, and kidnapping.

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May God Almighty comfort every grieving family, protect every child in captivity, strengthen every displaced mother, and restore peace to every troubled community in Nigeria.

Kayode Ogunjobi is an environmental researcher, public affairs commentator, and dedicated advocate for nature conservation, with a deep commitment to environmental sustainability, ecological protection, climate responsibility, and policies that promote a safer and healthier environment for present and future generations.