How Kidnapping Has Boomed in Nigeria: Families Pay Ransoms While Others Mourn Amid Government Inaction

Reported by: L. Imafidon | Stone Reporters Investigations Unit

Nigeria is no stranger to insecurity, but in recent years a particularly grim and deeply entrenched menace has evolved: kidnapping for ransom. What began as sporadic attacks has now become a fully fledged, self-sustaining criminal industry, built around systematic abductions, massive ransom demands, and shocking violence. Despite repeated promises from the government, the kidnapping business continues to thrive—and the human, social, and economic costs are mounting.

On October 11, 2025, fear swept through Igbira Camp in Auchi, Edo State, when armed men kidnapped a young woman named Aisha Wahab. According to nujfct.ng, the gunmen invaded the community, firing sporadically before taking Aisha into the nearby forest. Her family soon received a call from the kidnappers demanding ₦30 million, later reduced to ₦20 million, for her release. A video later released by the abductors and verified by Ripples Nigeria and Sahara Reporters showed Aisha kneeling before an armed man, crying for her life. She pleaded: “Please help me; they said they will kill me by 5 p.m. if the money is not paid.” The kidnappers reportedly gave a strict 5 p.m. deadline for the ransom. The disturbing footage went viral, sparking outrage across Nigeria and prompting citizens and activists to demand urgent action.

Aisha’s mother appeared in a separate video reported by Sahara Reporters on October 23, 2025, begging Nigerians to help save her daughter. In tears, she explained that she was a widow with no means to raise such an enormous ransom. “I don’t have that kind of money. Please help me, they will kill my daughter,” she said. Her plea drew wide sympathy online under the hashtag #FreeAishaWahab, highlighting the emotional and economic vulnerability of families caught in the kidnapping business. Human-rights activist Harrison Gwamnishu, founder of the Behind Bars Human Rights Foundation, became one of the leading voices calling for her release. He coordinated with local volunteers and pressed the authorities to act. However, in an interview cited by Sahara Reporters on October 25, Gwamnishu lamented that “we couldn’t move in because the State security agencies and the Edo State government have repeatedly failed to respond to our calls for collaboration.” He said technical rescue equipment could not be deployed because no official authorization was granted.

After nearly two weeks in captivity, Aisha was finally freed on October 25, 2025, in Okpella, another community in Edo State. Sahara Reporters confirmed her release through Gwamnishu, who thanked Nigerians for their support but warned that “security requires partnership — between citizens, government, and volunteers like us. We cannot do it alone.” Details about whether ransom money was paid remain unclear, and as of press time, no arrests have been made. The Edo State Police Command has not issued a detailed statement about the case. Residents told Sahara Reporters that kidnappings have become routine in the area, leaving many afraid to travel after dusk.

Aisha Wahab’s ordeal underscores the fragility of Nigeria’s internal security system. Despite repeated government promises to end abductions, the crimes persist. SBM Intelligence estimates that more than 3,600 people were kidnapped nationwide in the first half of 2025, with ransom demands exceeding ₦5 billion. Her case — from abduction to release — reveals both the cruelty of the kidnappers and the courage of ordinary Nigerians who rallied for her freedom. Yet it also exposes a deeper failure: a nation where families, activists, and communities must fight alone for safety that should be guaranteed by the state.

Between July 2024 and June 2025 alone, 4,722 people were abducted in Nigeria, according to SBM Intelligence, which recorded 997 kidnapping incidents. In that same period, about ₦48 billion was demanded by captors, yet only ₦2.57 billion was paid (ThisDayLive). The disparity highlights how kidnappers are adjusting their business model to Nigeria’s fragile economy: larger naira demands compensate for devaluing currency, even if many families cannot meet those figures. These are not just statistics. According to SBM, 762 people died in the course of those abductions, including civilian captives, kidnappers themselves, and security agents (The Guardian Nigeria). In some cases, hostages whose families paid ransom were still killed. At least 32 victims reportedly died in captivity despite ransom payments (The Guardian Nigeria). Taken together, these numbers show that kidnapping in Nigeria is no longer a desperate crime born out of opportunism—it is an organised, structured economic enterprise. SBM Intelligence calls it “a self-sustaining business model” (Vanguard News).

The geographical pattern of these kidnappings also tells a story. The Northwest region, particularly Zamfara State, was the epicentre of the crisis: 425 of the 997 incidents (42.6%) occurred there, accounting for more than 60% of the total number of victims (ThisDayLive). That region’s vast, rural, poorly governed terrain provides fertile ground for kidnappers. In contrast, the Southwest saw the fewest incidents. Particularly striking is a high-profile case in Delta State in March 2025, where two young girls, Chidimma and Precious Enuma, and their aunt were abducted, and their captors demanded ₦30 billion. That single demand represented over 60% of all ransom requests in the year under review (TheCable). The audacity of such a demand underscores how entitlement and greed have become baked into the kidnapping economy.

Despite the staggering sums trafficked, government responses remain deeply problematic. Authorities routinely issue strong statements condemning kidnappers and promising to bring them to justice. In one instance, Major General Adamu Laka, coordinator of Nigeria’s Multi-Agency Anti-Kidnap Fusion Cell, announced a 16.3% decrease in cases (ThisDayLive), yet even he admitted that kidnappings remained widespread in both rural and urban areas. Rescue operations, when they occur, are typically reactive. A military precision airstrike in August 2025 around Pauwa Hill, Katsina State reportedly freed 76 hostages, including children (AP News), but one child tragically died during the operation. Such interventions highlight both the potential and limits of force-based responses: costly, risky, and insufficient to dismantle systemic criminal structures.

The scale of ransom payments is staggering. The National Bureau of Statistics’ 2024 Crime Experience and Security Perception Survey (CESPS) estimated 2,235,954 kidnapping incidents between May 2023 and April 2024 (Nannews). Of households experiencing kidnapping, 65% paid ransoms, averaging ₦2.67 million per incident (Nairametrics). These payments collectively reached roughly ₦2.23 trillion in a single year. The economic impact is profound: families drain savings, borrow heavily, or crowdsource funds to secure loved ones. Money that could support education, healthcare, or local businesses instead fuels criminal networks, reinforcing the kidnapping economy.

Part of the reason the business has scaled dramatically is its evolving infrastructure. SBM Intelligence reports that kidnapping networks are no longer rudimentary gangs. They have structured organizations with financial arms, recruitment pipelines, intelligence capabilities, and logistics (ThisDayLive). Ransom proceeds are reinvested in weapons, motorcycles, recruitment, and hideouts. By demanding enormous sums, kidnappers build capacity for further operations, ensuring the sustainability of their enterprises. Inflation and naira devaluation exacerbate the economic squeeze: kidnappers demand more, families can pay less, and the cycle becomes ever more lucrative for criminals (Vanguard News).

Yet paying ransom is a gamble. The Guardian Nigeria reports that in some SBM-recorded cases, victims were killed even after payments. Kidnappers operate with near-total impunity; ransom is not merely a means of release, it is part of a business model in which death is an accepted risk. Security interventions remain inconsistent. Military strikes like the Pauwa Hill operation are rare and cannot substitute for a nationwide rapid-response system. Many families negotiate privately because they lack trust in the state.

Increasingly, kidnappers are linked to insurgent organizations. SBM Intelligence highlights cases where ransom profits feed militant operations (Vanguard News). This convergence of criminality and insurgency deepens the crisis, turning ransom-paying into more than a crime—it is part of a wider conflict economy. For families, the emotional toll is devastating: the constant uncertainty, the fear, and in some cases, the heartbreak of losing a loved one who could not be rescued. Those who cannot pay ransoms are often left to mourn, their grief compounded by systemic neglect.

Internationally, Nigeria’s kidnapping crisis is recognized as a human rights and governance emergency. Transnational implications are emerging, particularly where militant-linked groups use ransom profits to fund broader violence. The persistent profitability of kidnapping undermines governance, erodes public trust, and threatens social cohesion.

If unchecked, the trend will continue to grow. Kidnapping risks normalizing as an industry in Nigeria, extending into new territories, strengthening organized criminal networks, and deepening economic and social disruption. The consequences are clear: fear dictating behavior, diversion of household and national resources, weakened governance, and heightened trauma for millions.

To address the crisis, a multi-pronged strategy is needed. The government must treat kidnapping as both a security and economic problem: disrupt the financial flows, prosecute organizers, and strengthen intelligence-led operations. Prevention is key: reducing poverty, creating economic opportunities, and expanding education can limit recruitment into kidnapping networks. Security forces require reform, better coordination, and stronger community engagement to rebuild trust. Regional and international collaboration is also crucial to combat transnational networks. Finally, ransom policy should balance principle with pragmatism, providing support for families under duress while avoiding incentivizing kidnappers.

The kidnapping business in Nigeria is no longer episodic. It is a high-stakes, capital-intensive industry thriving on fear, impunity, and economic desperation. Without urgent reforms, the human cost will rise, communities will fracture, and Nigeria risks cementing a future where kidnapping is an entrenched part of daily life. The story of Aisha Wahab, like countless others, is a stark reminder of the price paid when government, society, and law enforcement fail to protect citizens. Families either pay to survive or mourn, and the cycle continues, leaving a nation to grapple with fear as the dominant reality.

📰 Stone Reporter News

Acknowledgment of Sources

We credit several sister news organizations whose reporting and research greatly contributed to the success of our investigation. Their diligent coverage over the past years, including work by Sahara Reporters, Ripples Nigeria, NUJ FCT News, SBM Intelligence, ThisDayLive, The Guardian Nigeria, Vanguard News, AP News, Nairametrics, Nannews, and TheCable, provided invaluable context, data, and insights that strengthened the accuracy and depth of our reporting.