‘I hid in corner of our house, watched bandits abduct my parents, sibling’
• Survivor of abducted Kaduna’s Millennium City family relives night of horror The road to the Millennium City Divisional Police Headquarters was blocked on Monday morning. Angry residents of Danhonu
• Survivor of abducted Kaduna’s Millennium City family relives night of horror
The road to the Millennium City Divisional Police Headquarters was blocked on Monday morning. Angry residents of Danhonu II stood in clusters, chanting, demanding answers, and pleading for protection after yet another night of terror in their Kaduna community.
Their protest followed the abduction of seven residents from two families late Sunday night; the latest in a string of kidnapping incidents which they say has turned a once-quiet neighbourhood into a corridor of fear.
Among those taken were Malam Yahaya Yusuf, his wife Lateeefat, and two of their sons. Also abducted were Mrs. Abdulrazak Jimoh and two of her children. For the residents, the incident was one too many. But for Muizat Yusuf, it was not just about statistics; it was the night her world broke.
When armed men stormed their home, Muizat did not scream. She hid. From where she concealed herself, trembling and barely breathing, she watched strangers lead her parents and younger brother into the darkness.
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In that moment, her life split into two: the before and the after.
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Today, she is the only immediate member of her household left at home. Her mother, a teacher with the Kaduna State Ministry of Education; her father, proprietor of a modest community model school; and her 21-year-old brother remain in captivity.
For more than a decade, since 2015, the Yusuf family has been part of Millennium City. Their identity in the community is not tied to wealth or status, but to service.
Yahaya Yusuf’s school is known not for luxury but for access. With fees structured for families of modest means, it has provided affordable education to children who might otherwise be left behind, while also creating jobs for locals, including Gwari and Fulani residents.
Lateefat Yusuf’s contribution is equally visible in classrooms across the state, where she has spent years shaping young minds as a public school teacher.
Their children mirror those values. One son studies Medicine at Bayero University Kano. AbdulGafar, now in captivity, recently graduated from the Air Force Institute of Technology and is awaiting national service.
Muizat herself just gained admission to Bayero University Kano to study Nursing. She should be preparing for resumption after the fasting period. Instead, she is answering calls and reliving a memory she wishes she could erase.
“Every second counts,” she says quietly, speaking of her brother, whom she describes as disciplined but physically delicate.
Around her, the absence of her parents is loudly felt. Students wait. School staff members are uncertain. Neighbours speak in hushed tones.
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Residents say this is the 11th kidnap incident in the small community within months. Many now suspect that informants within the area may be aiding the attackers.
The Chairman of the Danhonu II Landlords Association, Mr. Akoh Salifu, said the protest was born out of frustration. “We can no longer live in peace,” he told the police.
According to him, some youths attempted to trail the kidnappers into the bush after Sunday’s attack but could not reach them.
The police confirmed receiving a distress call and said officers, supported by soldiers, responded but arrived late due to the poor road network, allowing the attackers to escape after a crossfire.
Police spokesman, DSP Mansir Hassan, disclosed that the Commissioner of Police, CP Rabiu Muhammad, has visited the community and is considering the establishment of a police outpost there.
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For Muizat, however, the conversations about outposts, investigations and terrain challenges feel distant from her immediate reality.
Her family is gone. Her home is quiet. Her future feels paused.
The Yusuf family is not issuing accusations. They are making a plea for intensified efforts to bring their loved ones back safely.
What Muizat wants is simple: “To have my family back.”
Her story is not political. It is deeply human — a daughter who survived by hiding, but now lives daily with the memory of watching her family disappear into the night.
As the days stretch on, the appeal from Millennium City grows louder: that every necessary step be taken to secure the safe return of those abducted and restore one household, and a shaken community, to wholeness.
