I have always resisted being dragged into ethnoreligious arguments. Not because the issues are trivial, but because many of the loudest voices in such debates are not merely passionate—they are fanatical. Some are so blinded by affiliation that they excuse injustice, flirt with heresy, or even justify violence in defence of identity. In recent months, especially after U.S. President Donald Trump’s inflammatory threats against Nigerian Muslims over an alleged “Christian genocide” in Nigeria, I found myself losing respect for some elders, friends, and colleagues. Their positions were so reckless and prejudiced that I questioned whether our long-standing relationships had ever been grounded in sincerity.
It was against this background that recent media reports jolted my memory: a Department of State Services (DSS) operative, Ifeanyi Onyewuenyi, had been arrested for allegedly abducting, raping, and forcibly converting a Muslim girl to Christianity. Instantly, my mind travelled back to 2016—the traumatic case of Ese Oruru and Yunusa Dahiru, popularly known as “Yellow.” That episode dominated newspapers, television screens, social media timelines, and the commentary of self-styled influencers who fed hungrily on outrage.
In March 2016, precisely 10 years ago, I intervened in that heated national debate with an article titled “Ese Oruru: From Delta to Northern Savannah.” Drawing from my positive 1992 National Youth Service Corps (NYSC) experience in Delta State, I contrasted a past era of inter-ethnic openness with the poisonous divisions that surfaced during the Ese Oruru–Yunusa Dahiru saga. Ese, a teenage girl from Bayelsa, and Yunusa, a young Kano-born artisan living in Yenagoa, became unwilling symbols in a storm whipped up by sensationalist media, political opportunists, and religious bigots.
My argument then was simple but unpopular: what should have been treated as a grave but personal criminal matter—an ill-advised and unlawful teenage elopement—was irresponsibly reframed into a national crisis of religion and ethnicity. The case was weaponised. Hypocrisy flourished. Sectarian outrage drowned nuance. And anyone who urged restraint or perspective was branded a traitor.
The facts of that case are well known. Ese Oruru, a teenager, was taken from Bayelsa to Kano by Yunusa Dahiru, who claimed to be her boyfriend. She was allegedly forced to convert to Islam and married without parental consent. Following intense public pressure, 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. On appeal, the sentence was reduced to seven years, accounting for time already spent in custody.
What received far less attention, however, was what happened afterwards. Yunusa reportedly completed his secondary education while incarcerated and was described by the Nigerian Correctional Service as a well-behaved and reform-minded inmate and was released in 2023. Ese Oruru, on the other hand, despite the trauma and stigma, returned to school and later gained admission to the University of Ilorin, from which she graduated in 2025. These outcomes did not erase the crime, but they reminded us that justice, rehabilitation, and human recovery can coexist.
Fast-forward to the present. The DSS has confirmed the arrest of its operative, Ifeanyi Onyewuenyi, following a petition alleging that he abducted a Muslim girl, Walida Abdulhadi, kept her in a DSS residence for two years, sexually exploited her, and forcibly converted her to Christianity. According to her family, they searched desperately for Walida during this period and reportedly lost her mother to the trauma. They only learned of her whereabouts when the suspect allegedly called her father on New Year’s Day 2026, claiming Walida had given birth to his child and that he intended to marry her.
The family’s lawyers have rightly described the case as a grave abuse of office and demanded prosecution and an independent investigation of the DSS facility involved. To its credit, the DSS confirmed the arrest, condemned the alleged conduct as a violation of its code of ethics, and announced that a full investigation is underway, with assurances that findings will be made public.
And yet, here lies the uncomfortable question: where is the outrage?
Nearly a decade ago, Nigeria erupted over the abduction and alleged forced conversion of Ese Oruru, a Christian girl, to Islam. Today, a Muslim girl is alleged to have been abducted, raped, and forcibly converted to Christianity by a state security operative. Will this case attract the same volume of condemnation? The same moral panic? The same international attention? Or will it be quietly processed because it does not fit a preferred narrative?
When I wrote in 2016, I was almost crucified for refusing to dance to the drums of sectarian hysteria. Today, faced with a disturbingly similar incident, I find myself cautious—almost hesitant—to speak, knowing how easily principled arguments can be twisted into accusations of bias.
But silence, too, is a position.
Yushau A. Shuaib is the author of ‘An Encounter with the Spymaster’ and can be reached via yashuaib@yashuaib.com.
