A rescue worth celebrating; a task still unfinished

Guest Columnist By Egena Sunday Ode

When the Presidency announced last Wednesday that 308 kidnap victims had been rescued, the relief that swept over me was unlike anything I had ever felt before.

It was as if I had been locked in a dark cell myself-listening to the rattle of chains, counting days without light-and then suddenly the iron gates were torn open. Light flooded in. Air rushed back into my lungs. For the first time in a long while, my chest remembered how to breathe freely, because 308 families could breathe again.

308 people. Freed in one day. Mr President, take your roses.

The Presidency aptly described that feat as the largest same-day rescue operation in our history. 163 from Woro in Kwara, taken in February after an attack that claimed 170 lives in their community. Another 145 from Niger. All held for months in the Kainji Lake forest.

What they recounted was unbearable to hear. The type of story that forces tears from eyes long dried by grief, and breaks a heart that thought it had turned to stone.

Difficult testimonies indeed. A nurse, Amira Saliu, said she delivered 10 babies with bare hands. No gloves. No equipment. Mary Ishaya spoke of days without food and of having to bury those who did not survive.

That is not just criminality. That is an assault on communities. A war on communities.

This rescue is particularly commendable because it followed closely on what was termed the “historic Oyo rescue” — an operation conducted without the payment of ransom. Two significant outcomes in quick succession. It is encouraging to see results speak for themselves, without the usual marketplace noise from critics and self-appointed commentators who often turn security operations into political debate. This time around, that noise was mercifully absent. It allowed us to focus on the families, and to thank the men and women in uniform.

Yet even as we acknowledge progress, we must be honest about the gaps.

On May 15, the same day as the Oyo abductions, 42 pupils and toddlers were abducted from Mussa Primary and Junior Secondary School in Askira-Uba LGA, Borno State. To date, there has been no major update on their status. They remain in captivity.

The silence around their case sits uncomfortably with the commendations we rightly give for other successes. A comprehensive approach to security must mean that every Nigerian child, in every part of the country, receives the same urgency, attention and effort. Until those 42 children are accounted for and reunited with their families, our celebrations will be measured.

There is also reason for measured optimism on the structural side. On July 23, President Tinubu approved the expansion of the Nigerian Army from 8 to 12 divisions. Alongside this, he authorized the recruitment of 28,000 new personnel to improve operational response time against banditry and insurgency threats. These are important steps. Expanding force structure and bringing in fresh manpower, properly trained and equipped, can help close response gaps and provide more presence in vulnerable communities. That decision deserves commendation.

Those structural changes were matched by this welfare boost. We also saw another signal of support for our troops last week, with approved adjustments — up to 80% for soldiers, 50% for mid-rank officers, and 30% for generals. No doubt, a force that is motivated and well-resourced is better placed to deliver on its mandate.

But welfare and expansion must be matched with consistency in operations and communication. The Woro case reminds us of timelines. February to August. Six months. That tells me there may be other communities still waiting, other families still hoping. It also tells me we need intelligence-led prevention, not only response.

What would give me confidence is a security architecture that is predictable: early warning that works, swift deployment, clear updates for families, and accountability for perpetrators and their sponsors. And it must be applied uniformly — whether in Kwara, Oyo, or Borno.

The 308 are home today. That is worth acknowledging. The Oyo rescue without ransom is worth celebrating. The decision to expand the Army and recruit 28,000 personnel is worth acknowledging.

But acknowledgment cannot be the end point.

Our joy will not be full until a farmer in Kwara, Jigawa, Taraba and elsewhere can go to his field without fear, until a nurse does not have to deliver a baby in a forest, until herders can graze and move freely with their cattle in Ondo, Bayelsa and Abia without threat or harassment, and until the 42 children of Askira-Uba are back in school.

Until then, our task remains unfinished.

With the recent successes, our capacity to rescue is no longer in doubt. The critics have been confounded. Now let us show that we can prevent. Let us show that no community is too far, and no child is forgotten.