Who is buying Nigeria’s stolen children?
The rescue of 17 children by the Oyo State Police Command has exposed a criminal enterprise so disturbing that the immediate relief of recovering the victims must be accompanied by a much deeper question: how has the buying and selling of children become sufficiently organised to operate across several states?
The police say seven suspects have been arrested following an intelligence-led investigation into a network involved in the stealing, movement, sale and concealment of children. The investigation has stretched from Oyo to Ogun and Delta states, demonstrating that the operation was far larger than an isolated case of child abduction.
Seventeen children have been rescued. Six others, the police disclosed, died while allegedly in the custody of their abductors. The victims included children as young as two years old, while one of those rescued was a nine-day-old infant. Those figures should be allowed to sink in.
These were children who had families, names, homes and futures. They were reduced to commodities within a criminal economy in which people could allegedly steal them, transport them across state boundaries and sell them to waiting buyers.
The investigation reportedly began with the disappearance of three-year-old Ifakunle Ifagbenro during a masquerade festival in Oyo Town on June 29. A woman who had been seen carrying the child was subsequently arrested, and information obtained from her allegedly led detectives towards a much wider network.
That progression is significant. It shows why missing-child cases cannot be treated as ordinary domestic disputes or isolated disappearances. A missing child may be the visible edge of a sophisticated criminal operation.
The alleged methods of the syndicate are particularly troubling. According to the police, suspects described stealing children from churches, parties and other gatherings. Some allegedly gained the confidence of parents before taking children away. One suspect reportedly claimed to have approached parents of children with disabilities under the pretence of being able to heal them. Such exploitation depends upon trust.
That makes the crime especially insidious. Parents are being targeted precisely through the ordinary networks of community life: religious gatherings, social events, traditional festivals and people who present themselves as helpers. The places where children should be safest can consequently become opportunities for predators.
The investigation also reportedly uncovered allegations that pregnant young women were kept in custody until they gave birth, while stolen children were held pending sale. Police have further alleged that some children who died in captivity had their remains sold to suspected ritualists. Two men described by police as an Islamic cleric and a herbalist were arrested over the alleged ritual dimension of the operation.
These allegations must now be tested rigorously in court. Police claims and confessions should not be treated as convictions. Yet their seriousness demands an equally serious investigation.
The financial details emerging from the case are equally revealing. One suspect, Adejoke Popoola, reportedly told investigators that she had stolen at least 13 children and received between ₦80,000 and ₦120,000 for children she supplied to suspected baby-factory operators. She also reportedly said she sold her own newborn twins for ₦300,000. That testimony, if established in court, exposes the economic machinery behind the horror.
There is money at every stage where vulnerable children can be turned into merchandise. That means enforcement cannot end with the people physically stealing children. The investigation must follow the money to the buyers, intermediaries, clinics, homes and other facilities that create demand for stolen or illegally obtained children. A trafficking network survives because somebody is prepared to pay.
Nigeria has confronted the phenomenon of baby factories for years. Yet recurring revelations suggest that enforcement has failed to destroy the ecosystem that sustains them. Every operation that uncovers another network should therefore prompt authorities to ask where the children were supposed to end up, who was prepared to purchase them and which institutions or individuals facilitated the transactions.
The interstate nature of the Oyo investigation makes this particularly important. Detectives reportedly travelled to Agbor in Delta State, where four children allegedly stolen from Oyo were rescued from suspected buyers. Two suspects were arrested there. This cannot be approached as an Oyo problem.
Children are being moved across administrative boundaries. Criminals do not need permission from state governments before crossing those boundaries, while police investigations can become slower and more complicated when evidence, suspects and victims are scattered across jurisdictions.
There is therefore a compelling case for stronger cooperation between state police commands, the Nigeria Police Force, immigration and other relevant agencies, as well as child-protection authorities. Information about missing children must move rapidly across jurisdictions. A child disappearing in Ibadan should immediately trigger mechanisms capable of alerting authorities in neighbouring states. The rescued children also require more than reunification.
They will need medical assessment, psychological support, careful identification and protection from further exploitation. Some have potentially spent crucial periods of their childhood in captivity. Others may have been moved repeatedly or exposed to people and environments that no child should encounter.
The six children who died deserve equal attention. Their names should not disappear into a police briefing. The circumstances of their deaths must be established, their remains accounted for and their families given answers. If criminal responsibility is established, those responsible must face the full weight of the law. There is another uncomfortable lesson here for Nigerian society.
The protection of children cannot be outsourced entirely to the police. Parents and guardians need greater awareness of the risks surrounding apparently benevolent strangers, informal healers and individuals seeking unusual access to children. Religious and community organisations must also strengthen safeguards at gatherings where large numbers of children are present.
Yet responsibility must remain proportionate. Parents should not be expected to live permanently in fear of everyone around them. The answer to organised criminality is organised protection.
The Oyo police deserve recognition for following a missing-child investigation far enough to uncover a wider network. But an arrest operation is only the beginning. The real measure of success will be whether the entire network is dismantled, whether the buyers are identified, whether other missing children are found and whether the system that made these crimes profitable is disrupted.
Seventeen children have been brought back. That is 17 reasons for gratitude. The six who did not survive are six reasons for urgency. Nigeria must ensure that this case does not become another horrifying headline that briefly shocks the public before disappearing from national attention. Children cannot be allowed to become inventory for criminal markets. A country that cannot guarantee the safety of its children cannot claim to be protecting its future.