Governor Seyi Makinde and the handling of the recent kidnapping crisis have raised serious questions that deserve answers from the government and security authorities. At a time when students and teachers remain in captivity, many citizens are asking whether the state’s response reflects strength, urgency, and strategic thinking, or whether it risks emboldening criminal elements operating within Oyo State.

One of the most troubling questions concerns the issue of negotiation. If negotiations are taking place, who exactly are the kidnappers? Who are their leaders? How are they communicating with government officials or intermediaries? Through what channels are these communications occurring? In an age of sophisticated intelligence gathering, digital surveillance, telecommunications monitoring, and security operations, how can armed criminals continue to negotiate from hiding without their locations being identified?

The questions become even more disturbing when viewed through the realities of Ogbomoso, Orire, and surrounding local government areas. Who are these people? Where did they come from? How did they establish themselves? Who is providing them with intelligence? Who is sheltering them? Who is supplying them? Who are the insiders operating within communities that have historically been known for vigilance, resilience, and collective responsibility?

No criminal network survives in isolation. Kidnapping enterprises require information, logistics, movement, supplies, communication channels, and local knowledge. These realities naturally lead many citizens to wonder whether there are individuals within communities who are aiding criminal operations, either directly or indirectly.

These are not merely security questions; they are questions about governance.

Governor Makinde is frequently mentioned as a potential national political figure and, in some circles, a possible future vice-presidential candidate. Such ambitions naturally invite scrutiny of leadership during times of crisis. Citizens are entitled to ask whether enough is being done to secure the release of kidnapped students and teachers. They are entitled to ask whether politics is being allowed to overshadow the urgency of the situation.

Some observers have questioned whether political calculations are influencing the narrative surrounding insecurity. Others wonder whether attention is being diverted toward future elections while communities grapple with immediate threats to their safety. These questions may be uncomfortable, but they arise whenever public confidence begins to erode during moments of crisis.

History remains a powerful teacher.

The late Senator Abiola Ajimobi’s political legacy demonstrates how quickly public sentiment can shift when citizens feel disconnected from those entrusted with leadership. Political fortunes rise and fall, but the judgment of history endures.

Oyo State is not just another administrative territory. It is the heartland of one of Africa’s greatest civilizations. It is the land of the Oyo Empire, a kingdom whose influence extended across vast regions of West Africa. It is a land built on courage, sacrifice, military excellence, commerce, and leadership.

The people of Oyo have never been known to surrender their sons and daughters to fear.

Even during the dark era of the transatlantic slave trade, the preservation and defense of communities remained central to Yoruba identity. That is why the current kidnapping epidemic strikes at something deeper than security alone. It raises painful questions about dignity, sovereignty, and the value placed on human life.

Today, kidnapping has become a marketplace of human suffering. Victims become commodities. Families become bargaining tools. Freedom becomes a transaction. The highest bidder wins. In many respects, Nigerians are confronting a disturbing modern reality that resembles a new form of captivity.

Fast forward to today, and the demand remains simple.

Bring back the students.

Bring back the teachers.

Everything else is secondary.

As Chief Obafemi Awolowo once observed, when a man knows that his day of reckoning is approaching, he may shiver, even if only momentarily. Leadership ultimately faces accountability—not merely through elections, but through the verdict of history.

And so one must ask: where are the custodians of Oyo’s historic legacy?

Where is the spirit of Aare Latoosa?

Where is the courage associated with the title of Aare Ona Kakanfo?

Where is the sense of collective responsibility that once defined this land?

If ever there was a moment for decisive action, this is it.

This is not the time for public relations exercises, media spectacles, or political calculations. This is the time to do what is necessary to bring our sons and daughters home.

The people of Ogbomoso deserve answers.

The parents deserve answers.

The students deserve answers.

The teachers deserve answers.

Communities must also rise to the occasion. Citizens must become vigilant. Neighbours must look out for one another. Information-sharing mechanisms must be strengthened. Community leaders, traditional institutions, religious organizations, youth groups, and legitimate vigilante structures must work in cooperation with security agencies to identify threats and report suspicious activities.

The responsibility belongs to everyone.

This is a moment that demands action from every segment of society. Christians, Muslims, traditional institutions, community associations, and cultural organizations must unite around a common objective: protecting lives and securing the future of our children.

This crisis must end.

The kidnapping of innocent citizens must end.

The fear that has taken hold of communities must end.

Oyo State carries the legacy of the Oyo Empire. It carries the memory of Alaafins, warriors, statesmen, and visionaries who built one of Africa’s most formidable civilizations. That legacy imposes obligations on today’s leaders and citizens alike.

The immediate task is clear.

Bring our students back.

Bring our teachers back.

And restore confidence that Oyo State remains a place where communities can live, learn, and prosper without fear.

By Jide Adesina