‘Help! My Uncle Is Kidnapped in Nigeria’ — Haruna Mohammed Salisu Cries Out

By Haruna Mohammed Salisu

Three weeks ago, my uncle left home at dawn, as he always did. He never returned.

Gunmen abducted him along a route that cuts across Taraba, Plateau and Bauchi states. Since then, he has been held in a forest stretching across those regions. As I write, he is still alive.

My uncle is not wealthy. He holds no public office. He owns no property beyond what feeds his family. He is a subsistence farmer a man who has lived by the discipline of hard work and modest expectations. He asks for nothing but the right to return home safely at the end of each day.

But safety is no longer guaranteed.
Ransom Raised to ₦100 Million
When the kidnappers first contacted us, their demand was calculated. They had studied him what he owned, what he earned, what his family might reasonably gather.

Then, after weeks in captivity, they escalated their demand to ₦100 million.
That figure is staggering. At Nigeria’s minimum wage, ₦100 million represents over a century of earnings.

A smallholder farmer earning roughly ₦400,000 in a good year would need 250 uninterrupted years of harvest to raise such a sum.
We do not have 250 years. We barely have days.

Silence, Then Exposure

Initially, the family chose silence. In Nigeria’s kidnapping economy, the perception of wealth can inflate ransom demands. As someone currently in the United States completing a graduate degree, my location alone was enough to create that perception.

We feared publicity would worsen the situation.

Eventually, the abductors learned of my presence abroad. They told him they knew his nephew was in America. The ransom did not decrease.

According to Nigeria’s National Bureau of Statistics, about $1.42 billion was paid in ransoms between May 2023 and April 2024. Thousands of families across northern Nigeria face similar anguish negotiating quietly, often alone.
This crisis is no longer exceptional. It is systemic.

A Personal and Professional Reckoning
I am a journalist. I document cases like this. I understand the mechanics of ransom negotiations, the patterns of armed groups, the silence that often surrounds rural victims.
Now, I am living the story I once reported.

My uncle is one of ten captives currently held. He is not famous. His name has not appeared in headlines. He is simply a man who worked every day of his life and harmed no one.

A Public Appeal

This is why I am going public.
If you have connections within Nigeria’s security services, community leaders, religious authorities or anyone operating near these forested areas, please act. Please intervene.

My uncle and the others deserve to return home not because of who I am, but because of who he is: a decent man who sought nothing more than peace and survival.

Tonight, he sits in a forest, waiting. We are asking the world not to look away.

Haruna Mohammed Salisu publishes WikkiTimes and writes from the United States. He can be reached at harunababale@wikkitimes.com.