Kidnapping and the Making of Nigeria’s Ransom Economy
By Zekeri Idakwo Laruba
As a child growing up, I was fascinated by folktales told by elders under the moonlight. Among the most intriguing were stories of mysterious spirits that would take unsuspecting children deep into the forest. Days, weeks, or even months later, the victims would return home, often unable to explain where they had been. Some stories claimed they lost their memory; others said they returned forever changed by the strange experience.
To us children, those stories belonged to a world of myths and imagination. They were cautionary tales, meant to teach vigilance and obedience.
I never imagined that one day a similar story, minus the supernatural elements, would become a frightening reality in modern Nigeria.
Last year, while travelling to Ilorin, Kwara State, for an official assignment under the PRNigeria Young Communication Fellowship programme, a colleague who was expected to join us never arrived. Somewhere along the Lokoja-Kwara highway, one of Nigeria’s increasingly dangerous road corridors, he was abducted by kidnappers.
For nearly two weeks, his family, friends and colleagues endured agonising uncertainty. The abductors reportedly demanded ₦60 million as ransom. Negotiations followed. Eventually, the demand was reduced to about ₦1.5 million before his release was secured.
When he finally regained freedom, we were grateful that he was alive. But the experience had clearly left its mark. The trauma, fear and emotional burden were evident. Though he survived to tell the story, many others have not been as fortunate.
That experience brought home a troubling reality: kidnapping in Nigeria is no longer merely a security challenge. It has become a thriving criminal industry, one that extracts enormous wealth from households, cripples economic productivity, devastates communities and leaves deep psychological scars on its victims. My colleague’s story is just one among millions.
According to the National Bureau of Statistics (NBS), Nigerians paid an estimated ₦2.23 trillion in ransom between May 2023 and April 2024. The report revealed that approximately 65 per cent of affected households paid ransom demands, with an average payment of about ₦2.67 million per incident. During the period, the country recorded about 2.24 million kidnapping incidents.
The figure is staggering. To put it in perspective, the amount paid to kidnappers during that one-year period exceeded Nigeria’s 2024 defence budget of ₦1.64 trillion. In essence, criminal gangs extracted more money from citizens than the Federal Government budgeted for defending the nation.
Behind every statistic lies a painful human story. Families sell land, liquidate businesses, drain savings accounts and borrow heavily to secure the release of loved ones. For many households, the financial consequences last far longer than the period of captivity itself.
The emergence of what analysts now describe as a “ransom economy” represents one of the most dangerous dimensions of Nigeria’s insecurity crisis.
Unlike armed robbery, kidnapping has become a highly profitable enterprise with relatively low operating costs and potentially enormous returns. Armed groups, bandits and criminal syndicates have increasingly adopted abduction as a reliable source of income.
Evidence suggests the industry continues to expand. Independent security assessments indicate that between July 2024 and June 2025, kidnappers demanded more than ₦48 billion from victims and their families. Although verified payments amounted to a fraction of that figure, the amounts successfully extorted still ran into billions of naira.
The profitability of the enterprise explains why kidnapping continues to flourish despite intensified security operations.
The crisis, however, is not distributed evenly across the country. The North-West remains the epicentre of kidnapping activities, accounting for a significant proportion of recorded incidents. States such as Kaduna, Katsina and Zamfara have witnessed sustained attacks linked to armed banditry.
The North-Central region, particularly Niger State and communities along major highways, has also emerged as a major hotspot. The Federal Capital Territory has experienced growing incidents of targeted abductions, raising concerns about the proximity of criminal networks to the seat of government.
Meanwhile, parts of the South-East and South-South have recorded increasing cases of financially motivated kidnappings targeting business owners, professionals and travellers.
Yet perhaps the most devastating impact of kidnapping is not the ransom itself but the economic opportunities it destroys.
Across rural Nigeria, thousands of farmers now face a daily dilemma: risk abduction by going to the farm or abandon cultivation altogether.
Many have chosen the latter. In numerous communities, farmlands have been deserted because farmers fear being kidnapped, killed or forced to pay illegal levies to criminal groups. The consequence is reduced agricultural production, shrinking rural incomes and worsening food insecurity.
Nigeria’s food inflation crisis cannot be discussed without acknowledging the role insecurity plays in disrupting farming activities.
Every hectare of farmland left uncultivated because of fear translates into lower food supply. Lower supply inevitably leads to higher prices in markets across the country.
The economic losses extend beyond agriculture. Businesses operating in high-risk areas incur additional security costs. Transport companies alter routes or reduce operations. Investors become reluctant to commit capital to vulnerable regions. Economic activities slow as communities retreat into survival mode.
The education sector has also paid a heavy price. Since the Chibok schoolgirls’ abduction in 2014, schools have increasingly become attractive targets for kidnappers seeking mass ransom payments. Subsequent attacks in Kankara, Jangebe, Kuriga and several other communities have reinforced fears among parents and educators.
Recent events in Oyo State demonstrate how rapidly the geography of kidnapping is changing. The abduction of dozens of schoolchildren and teachers in Oriire Local Government Area in May 2026 highlighted the southward spread of a crime once largely associated with northern Nigeria. Beyond the immediate tragedy, the attacks triggered school closures, heightened public anxiety, and renewed fears that no region can afford to consider itself immune from the country’s growing ransom economy.
When schools become targets, enrolment declines. Parents withdraw children from boarding facilities. Teachers avoid postings to vulnerable communities. Educational infrastructure becomes underutilised.
The consequences are long-term. A child denied education today may become part of tomorrow’s unemployment statistics, perpetuating cycles of poverty and vulnerability.
Beyond the economic and educational consequences lies another often overlooked cost: mental health.
Victims of kidnapping frequently experience trauma, anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress. Families suffer prolonged emotional distress during captivity and often continue to grapple with psychological scars long after victims return home.
Entire communities exposed to repeated attacks live in constant fear. This collective anxiety affects productivity, social cohesion and quality of life. In many ways, fear itself becomes an invisible tax on society.
Several factors have contributed to the persistence of kidnapping in Nigeria.
Widespread poverty and youth unemployment have created fertile recruitment grounds for criminal groups. Weak state presence in remote communities, inadequate intelligence gathering, proliferation of small arms and porous borders have further complicated the challenge.
The profitability of ransom payments also sustains the cycle. As long as criminal syndicates continue to receive substantial financial rewards, kidnapping will remain attractive to those seeking illicit income.
The depreciation of the naira has added another dimension to the crisis. As inflation erodes purchasing power, kidnappers increasingly demand larger sums to maintain the real value of their earnings. What once required a ransom demand of ₦5 million may now require ₦20 million or more to achieve the same economic value.
The escalation of mass abductions in recent years reveals an uncomfortable truth: kidnapping has evolved beyond opportunistic crime into an organised economic activity.
Criminal groups now view human beings as financial assets. Communities are assessed according to their ability to pay. Highways become hunting grounds. Schools become bargaining chips. Farmers become revenue targets.
The implications for national development are profound. A country where citizens cannot travel safely, cultivate their farms, send children to school or invest confidently faces significant obstacles to economic growth.
Addressing the crisis therefore requires more than military deployments. Government must strengthen intelligence-led operations, enhance inter-agency collaboration and invest in surveillance technology capable of detecting criminal movements before attacks occur.
Equally important is the need to address underlying socio-economic drivers through job creation, youth empowerment and rural development initiatives.
Communities must be empowered to work closely with security agencies, while victims should have access to psychological support and rehabilitation services.
Most importantly, agricultural communities and educational institutions must receive enhanced protection to restore confidence and productivity.
The battle against kidnapping is not merely a security campaign. It is an economic necessity.
The ₦2.23 trillion paid in ransom over a single year represents more than a shocking statistic. It is a measure of wealth diverted from productive uses into criminal hands. It is money that could have built schools, expanded businesses, supported farmers, created jobs and improved lives.
As Nigeria seeks to diversify its economy, attract investment and achieve sustainable development, defeating the kidnapping industry must become a national priority.
Otherwise, the country risks allowing a dangerous criminal economy to continue flourishing at the expense of its future.