Examining Selective Outrage in Child Sexual Exploitation: From Ese Oruru to Walida

I have always refrained from engaging in ethnoreligious disputes. This isn't because the issues at hand are insignificant, but rather because many prominent voices in these discussions are not only passionate but also fanatic. Some individuals are so entrenched in their affiliations that they overlook injustice, flirt with heresy, or even condone violence in defense of their identities.

In recent months, particularly after the inflammatory statements from U.S. President Donald Trump regarding a so-called "Christian genocide" in Nigeria, I found my respect dwindling for certain elders, friends, and colleagues. Their perspectives were so reckless and biased that it made me question whether the bonds we shared were ever built upon sincerity.

In light of this, recent media reports shook my memory: a Department of State Services (DSS) official, Ifeanyi Onyewuenyi, has been arrested for allegedly abducting, raping, and forcibly converting a Muslim girl to Christianity. This situation instantly reminded me of the harrowing case of Ese Oruru and Yunusa Dahiru, commonly referred to as "Yellow," which captured national attention in 2016 through news outlets, television, social media, and the commentary of so- called influencers who thrived on public outrage.

In March 2016, precisely a decade ago, I entered that passionate national discourse with an article titled "Ese Oruru: From Delta to Northern Savannah." I drew from my positive experiences during my 1992 National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) tenure in Delta State to illustrate the stark contrast between a past era characterized by inter-ethnic openness and the divisive hostilities that emerged during the Ese Oruru-Yunusa Dahiru saga. Ese, a teenager from Bayelsa, and Yunusa, a young artisan from Kano residing in Yenagoa, unwittingly became the centerpieces of a controversy intensified by sensationalist media, opportunistic politicians, and religious extremists.

My core argument back then was straightforward yet unpopular: what should have been handled as a severe but private criminal issue—an ill-fated and illegal teenage elopement—was carelessly reframed into a national crisis concerning religion and ethnicity. The case was weaponized, hypocrisy burgeoned, and sectarian outrage smothered any nuanced perspectives. Any voice advocating for restraint or understanding was labeled a traitor.

The details of the case are widely recognized. Ese Oruru was purportedly taken from Bayelsa to Kano by Yunusa Dahiru, who presented himself as her boyfriend. She was allegedly coerced into converting to Islam and married without her parents' consent. Amid immense public outcry, she was rescued in 2016 while pregnant. In 2020, a Federal High Court sentenced Yunusa to 26 years in prison for child trafficking and sexual exploitation. However, upon appeal, the sentence was shortened to seven years, reflecting the time he had already spent in custody.

What received far lesser attention was the aftermath. While incarcerated, Yunusa reportedly completed his secondary education and was described as a well-behaved and reformative inmate by the Nigerian Correctional Service, earning his release in 2023. In contrast, despite enduring trauma and societal stigma, Ese returned to school and was later accepted into the University of Ilorin, from which she graduated in 2025. While these outcomes do not erase the crime, they demonstrate that justice, rehabilitation, and human recovery can coexist.

Now, focusing on current events, the DSS has acknowledged the arrest of Ifeanyi Onyewuenyi following allegations that he abducted a Muslim girl, Walida Abdulhadi, held her in a DSS facility for two years, sexually exploited her, and forcibly converted her to Christianity. Her family reported a desperate search for Walida during this time, and they tragically lost her mother due to the emotional toll. They became aware of her situation after the suspect allegedly contacted her father on New Year’s Day 2026, claiming that Walida had given birth to his child and that he intended to marry her.

The family's legal representatives have astutely characterized this situation as a severe abuse of power and are calling for both prosecution and a thorough, independent inquiry into the actions of the DSS facility involved. Notably, the DSS admitted to the arrest, condemned the purported actions as a breach of its ethical standards, and initiated a full investigation, promising that the findings will be made transparent.

Yet, this raises an unsettling question: where is the public outrage?

Nearly ten years ago, Nigeria saw widespread indignation in response to the alleged abduction and coerced conversion of Ese Oruru, a Christian girl. Today, however, it appears a Muslim girl has been reportedly abducted, raped, and coerced into converting to Christianity by a state security officer. Will this case garner the same degree of condemnation? The same ethical panic? The same level of international scrutiny? Or will it quietly be disregarded because it doesn't fit the agenda of choice?

When I wrote in 2016, I faced significant backlash for refusing to succumb to the pressures of sectarian fervor. Now, confronted with a disconcertingly similar incident, I feel cautious—almost reluctant—to express my thoughts, fully aware of how easily principled viewpoints can be misconstrued as biased.

Nonetheless, silence too is a stance.