In a conversation on the now-ubiquitous insecurity involving the abduction of schoolchildren, I asked an acquaintance what she knew about the abduction of 42 pupils from Primary and Junior Secondary Schools in Mussa, Askira-Uba Local Government Area of Borno State, by alleged Boko Haram/ISWAP terrorists. She told me outright she had never heard of it. Three weeks later! Among some of the abductees were toddlers between two and four years old.
The abduction took place on the same day as the horrific kidnapping of children from the Esiele/Yawota communities in Oriire Local Government Area of Oyo State, and the subsequent harrowing beheading of one of the abductees and a teacher in the school. The pain, grief, agony and outrage that have trailed the Oyo abduction are, however, understandably louder than those surrounding the Borno incident. Please do not get me wrong. Snatching our children from the cradle into the bush, exposed to the elements and harsh weather conditions, is tragic and unfathomable.
But two such incidents happened in our country on the same day. While the attention of social media, in particular, focused on the Oyo tragedy, near silence has been the lot of the Borno children. Borno is in the North-East and has been ravaged by insurgency for almost 20 years as the epicentre of Boko Haram’s war against the Nigerian state. Their modus operandi includes the abduction of schoolchildren and the killing of innocent people, resulting in the displacement of millions of vulnerable citizens and communities.
On the other hand, Oyo State in the South-West was, until recently, relatively peaceful and free from insurgent activities. However, like other states of the federation, Oyo is not immune to the criminality that has enveloped Nigeria over time.
This time, while the Oyo abduction is trending and has gone viral, many people like my acquaintance are not even aware of the children abducted from a school in Borno. What is going on? Is there a deliberate media blackout, censorship, or official cover-up? I have my conjectures, but I still prompted AI to help me understand the silence around Askira-Uba and the spot-on, real-time buzz around Oyo, as it should be anyway.
The authorities did not help matters regarding the silence over the Askira-Uba abduction. Although the government has generally failed in preventing insecurity and guaranteeing safety around our schools, its knee-jerk response to Oyo, with an official presidential visit led by President Tinubu’s Chief of Staff, Femi Gbajabiamila, which included Defence Minister Christopher Musa and National Security Adviser Nuhu Ribadu, amounted to nothing.
It was, however, symbolic enough to demonstrate the government’s awareness of the Oyo case compared to the apparent official neglect of Askira-Uba in Borno State. As insignificant and ineffective as the president’s delegation to Oyo has since turned out to be, coming two weeks after the ugly incident, the event in Borno was not deemed worthy of mention, let alone a presidential visit, except the visit of Governor Babagana Zulum, who also ordered the closure and relocation of the school.
Back to my extrapolation of the two concurrent events and AI’s search for answers. We know that news travels fastest where cameras already are. Ibadan, the Oyo State capital, is just 130 kilometres from Lagos, the country’s media headquarters.
Most national newsrooms, editors, influencers and Twitter voices are based in the South-West. A school abduction in Oyo is only about two hours away from several television studios. Askira-Uba is in the southern part of Borno State and a full day’s journey from Maiduguri, the state capital, with bad roads, poor network coverage and, in some cases, a military escort required. When journalists cannot get there, the story dies in the distance, in a remote part of the country that may not harbour social media influencers.
Borno and the North-East in general have been there before. They have seen enough grief and are almost numbed by its sheer frequency. Chibok, Damasak, Kaga, Gwoza, Buni Yadi-the North-East has had more than 1,000 students taken since 2014. When Askira-Uba happened, many news outlets may have made a brutal calculation: another one? It is all about how human attention works.
The Oyo case had parents on Instagram Live within hours, community leaders calling radio stations, and Yoruba socio-political groups issuing statements before sunset. In Askira-Uba, families are displaced, traumatised and often without access to data services. Many fear reprisals for speaking out. Local leaders sometimes mute cases in order to negotiate quietly with kidnappers. Northern elites, burned by years of being labelled “terrorist sympathisers” for discussing insecurity, often choose strategic silence except where their political interests are involved.
It also matters that the President is from the South-West, not because Tinubu ordered a media blackout, but because proximity breeds pressure. Whenever violence hits his home region, kinsmen, southern governors, lawmakers and activists reach out to Aso Rock faster. As a result, the federal machinery reacts visibly and swiftly with condemnations, police deployments and news conferences. In Borno, reactions are managed through the Theatre Command and the familiar refrain that “military operations are ongoing,” language that no longer trends. That must have created the impression that Abuja cares more about southern feelings. However, Abuja often reacts more strongly to constituencies that can make it lose sleep. In the North, leaders are not just respected; they are often deified.
Furthermore, Nigeria has two media realities. Lagos-Ibadan-Abuja sets the national agenda; Maiduguri-Damaturu-Yola reports, but rarely drives it. Most viral hashtags are born in the South. Northern digital voices exist, but they are fragmented by language, more active on Facebook and Hausa radio than on Twitter, and are often drowned out nationally. So, while #OyoAbduction trends beyond the shores of Nigeria, Askira-Uba becomes just another headline: “Gunmen abduct pupils in Borno.”
Editors will not say this openly, but scale, symbolism and novelty often determine coverage. Five children in Oyo means “insecurity has reached the South-West.” Five children in Borno means “insecurity continues in the North-East.” One threatens a new frontier; the other confirms an old war. One triggers middle-class anxiety; the other is filed under “crisis zone.” It is not that northern lives matter less, but rather that their loss has been normalised over the years.
After more than a decade of Boko Haram violence, many communities choose quiet negotiation over “noisy” advocacy because, sometimes, noise gets hostages killed. Others have lost faith in anything that trends, believing it rarely brings relief. After Chibok, some girls are still missing. Dapchi’s Leah Sharibu was followed by tragedies in Buni Yadi and several others in Kaduna, Niger, Kebbi, Zamfara, Katsina and Kwara states. But silence has consequences. When the country forgets, the government feels less pressure and finds it easier to look the other way.
So should we say the lack of publicity surrounding the Askira-Uba children is politics? Perhaps. Is it partly media bias or self-inflicted northern complacency? Partly. Is it the North-South dichotomy playing out? Maybe.
More importantly, governments tend to worry more about regions and people that consistently apply pressure. Nigeria is so divided along multiple fault lines that not even grief and pain can unite us. But even if Nigerians do not care or know about the Askira-Uba children, what about the Nigerian government’s negligence and the disparity in official response? Surely, in Nigeria, some lives appear more important than others.
The Rescue of Former Minister Adelabu’s Sister and Children
In another development, the police have rescued the sister of a former Minister of Power, Adegoke Adelabu, after about 72 hours in captivity in what appeared to be a freedom-from-house-arrest situation. I rejoice with the young woman and her lovely identical twins and commend the police for a job well done.
The rescue, however, raises two important issues. Would the police have been this swift and thorough if the family involved were not influential, powerful and elite? The abduction appeared to be an urban affair. Therefore, was it a case of politics, banditry, or simply a criminal act? While the police are yet to profile the abductors, it would be useful for the public to know their identities.
Zainab Suleiman Okino (FNGE) chairs the Blueprint Editorial Board. She is a syndicated columnist and can be reached via: zainabokino@gmail.com
