Ondo APC Chairman Kidnapped! N100 Million Ransom Demand From Tinubu. – Ty
The Untold Story Behind The Brazen Abduction Of An APC Chairman Just 5km From The Airport
Article:
The Morning The Forest Swallowed A Father: The N100 Million Mystery of Ondo State
Imagine, for just a moment, that the golden morning sun is cresting over the rich, fertile soil of Ondo State. It is a bright Monday, the kind of morning that smells of fresh earth and limitless potential. You are standing on your own farm, a piece of land you have watered with your sweat, your tears, and your hard-earned money. Your beloved daughter is standing right beside you, and together, you are inspecting the crops that will soon feed hundreds of families. The air is calm. The birds are singing. And then, in a fraction of a second, the bush around you explodes into absolute, terrifying chaos.
Where do you run when the very land you cultivate suddenly turns into a warzone? How does a quiet morning of agriculture transform into a bloody struggle for survival? And most importantly, how does a prominent political figure and respected community leader vanish into thin air just five kilometers away from a heavily secured state airport?
To understand the sheer horror that gripped the Ilu Ababu area of Akure North, we must step back from the cold, hard statistics of insecurity in Nigeria and look at the deeply human tragedy that unfolded. This is not just another headline about kidnapping. This is the story of Joseph Ote Aladdui—widely known and loved as “Jotina”—a father who fought back, a community thrown into pandemonium, and a chilling N100 million phone call that has left an entire state holding its breath.
The story you are about to read unravels a deeply terrifying trend in our agricultural sector and poses a profound question about the safety of those who choose to invest in our soil. Before we reveal the shocking details of the kidnappers’ morning phone call, let us walk through the exact moments that turned Jotina Farms into a scene straight out of a Hollywood thriller.
A 10:00 AM Nightmare: The Arrival of the Uninvited Guests
Joseph Ote Aladdui is not just an ordinary man; he is a pillar of his community. Serving as the Secretary of the Akure North Local Council Development Area (LCDA) and a prominent chieftain of the ruling party, he is a man of significant influence. But beyond the politics, he is a man of the earth. As the CEO of Jotina Farms, he represents the very entrepreneurial spirit that the government constantly begs Nigerians to adopt: Go back to the farm. Invest in agriculture. Feed the nation.
He did exactly that. His farm, located a mere five-kilometer drive from the Akure Airport, should have been a fortress of safety. The proximity to a federal aviation facility naturally suggests a heavy presence of security patrols, checkpoints, and rapid response units.
But criminals in Nigeria have grown brazen, operating with a level of audacity that defies logic.
At approximately 10:00 AM, a time when honest men and women are just settling into their daily hustle, the perimeter of Jotina Farms was breached. According to terrified eyewitnesses, about ten heavily armed men emerged from the thick surrounding bushes. They did not sneak in. They did not whisper. They announced their arrival with the deafening roar of live ammunition, shooting sporadically into the morning sky.
The sound of continuous gunfire carries far in rural and semi-urban areas. As the bullets echoed through the trees, the immediate surrounding communities were thrown into instant panic.
The Panic Beyond the Farm
When gunshots ring out endlessly in a Nigerian community, the first instinct is survival, and the first thought of every parent is their children. As the armed men laid siege to Jotina Farms, the terrifying echoes reached nearby schools.
The reaction was immediate and heartbreaking. Eyewitnesses reported seeing mothers tying their wrappers tight, abandoning their market stalls, and fathers jumping off their motorcycles, all sprinting frantically toward the local schools. Rumors spread like wildfire—was it a full-scale terrorist attack? Were the schools the actual target? Teachers struggled to maintain order as panicked parents pulled their children over fences and dragged them out of classrooms, desperate to get them behind locked doors at home.
In the middle of this widespread hysteria, the real tragedy was unfolding on the farm. The gunmen had a specific target, and they were closing in on Joseph Aladdui.
The Struggle, The Blood, and a Daughter’s Trauma
What makes Joseph Aladdui’s story stand out is his sheer, undeniable bravery. When ten men armed with military-grade rifles corner you in the bush, compliance is usually the only option. But Jotina is a man of the soil, and he did not go down without a fight.
Reports indicate that as the kidnappers moved to subdue him, a fierce physical struggle ensued. He fought back, presumably trying to create a window of escape or to protect those around him. In the violent scuffle, the attackers raised their weapons and shot him directly in the hand.
Blood stained the soil he had worked so hard to cultivate. Wounded, bleeding, and overpowered by sheer numbers, his resistance was finally broken.
But the most emotionally agonizing detail of this entire ordeal is who was standing right there as it happened. Joseph Aladdui was not alone on the farm; he was with his daughter.
Can you possibly fathom the deep, psychological trauma inflicted on that young lady? She had to watch as heavily armed strangers wrestled her father to the ground and shot him. According to harrowing accounts from the scene, the kidnappers looked the young woman squarely in the face. They didn’t take her. Instead, they delivered a chillingly plain message: We are taking your father.
They left her standing there, paralyzed by fear and trauma, as they dragged her bleeding father and two other farm workers deep into the unforgiving darkness of the forest.
What would you have done in this situation? If you were cornered by armed men while standing next to your child, would you fight back to protect them, or would you surrender immediately hoping they spare your family?
The Economic Chokehold: Who Wants to Farm in a Warzone?
As news of the abduction spread rapidly across Ondo State and the entire country, a chilling realization settled over the populace. This is not just an attack on one man; this is an attack on the economic survival of the nation.
For years, the government at all levels—from the federal seat in Abuja to the state house in Akure—has been preaching the gospel of agricultural revolution. “Diversify the economy,” they say. “Leave the oil sector and embrace farming.” Young entrepreneurs and retired civil servants alike are pouring their life savings into acquiring land, buying tractors, and planting crops.
But stories like the abduction of Jotina cast a massive, terrifying shadow over these investments. If a prominent politician, a recognized community leader, and a successful agribusiness CEO is not safe on his own land—located a stone’s throw from a heavily guarded airport—what is the fate of the average, unknown farmer?
How can the nation achieve food security when the people producing the food have to look over their shoulders, wondering if the bushes harbor armed mercenaries? The truth is, insecurity is causing a mass exodus from the agricultural sector. Farmers are abandoning their harvests because no bag of maize or tuber of yam is worth a N100 million ransom or a bullet in the dark.
Operation Forest Sweep: The Security Response
To their credit, the security apparatus in Ondo State did not fold their arms. The moment the distress calls came in, a massive joint operation was triggered. The State Police Command, flanked by the Nigerian Army, the Nigeria Security and Civil Defense Corps (NSCDC), and the highly dreaded regional security outfit, the Amotekun Corps, immediately launched a full-scale manhunt.
The Commissioner of Police ordered the deployment of elite tactical units to comb the dense, unforgiving forests surrounding Ilu Ababu. The Amotekun operatives, known for their deep knowledge of the local terrain and unconventional tracking methods, have been working tirelessly, pushing deep into the bush in a desperate race against time.
Interestingly, just a day prior to this abduction, the security agencies had carried out a massive raid across various criminal hideouts in the state, arresting 99 suspected criminals. While it remains unclear if any of those 99 suspects belong to the syndicate that orchestrated Jotina’s kidnapping, it highlights a state heavily mobilized for war against criminal elements.
But despite the boots on the ground and the helicopters in the sky, the forest is vast, and the kidnappers are ghosts in the green maze. For the family of Joseph Aladdui, the presence of police offers little comfort when their patriarch is out there, bleeding and held hostage.
They waited in agonizing silence. Until the phone finally rang.
The 7:00 AM Phone Call: A Staggering N100 Million Demand
The silence of a kidnapped victim’s family is a heavy, suffocating thing. Every time a phone vibrates, hearts skip a beat. Finally, early on Tuesday morning, March 10, exactly around 7:00 AM, the kidnappers made contact.
It was a moment of agonizing mixed emotions for the Aladdui family. On one hand, hearing from the captors provided a tiny, fragile shred of hope—it meant that, as of that morning, Joseph Aladdui was likely still alive. On the other hand, the reality of the conversation was brutal and uncompromising.
The callers were reportedly brief, hasty, and incredibly aggressive. This was not a negotiation; this was a dictation. They did not want to hear about his health. They did not want to discuss the bullet wound in his hand, which, left untreated in the dirty, humid conditions of the bush, is highly susceptible to severe infection.
They had only one demand, delivered with chilling finality: One Hundred Million Naira (N100,000,000).
They demanded this staggering sum for his immediate release and allegedly hung up, leaving absolutely no room for negotiation during that initial, terrifying call.
The sheer audacity of the demand has left the community in shock. One hundred million naira is an astronomical figure—a sum that can bankrupt entire extended families and liquidate businesses overnight. It highlights a deeply disturbing evolution in the kidnapping industry in Nigeria. Criminals no longer see human beings; they see walking, breathing ATM machines. They profile their victims, track their businesses, and slap corporate-level valuations on their lives.
For the Aladdui family, the anxiety is now twofold. Not only are they faced with the impossible task of raising a king’s ransom on dangerously short notice, but they are also deeply terrified about his deteriorating health. A gunshot wound requires antibiotics, clean bandages, and proper medical care. In the depths of the Ondo forest, he has none of these. Every hour that passes reduces his chances of survival, not just from the kidnappers’ guns, but from the brutal toll of his injuries.
The Unanswered Questions
As the manhunt intensifies and the family scrambles to keep the lines of communication open, the entire state is left grappling with heavy, unresolved questions.
How did ten heavily armed men maneuver so closely to the Akure Airport without being detected by intelligence agencies? In an era of NIN linkages, SIM registrations, and sophisticated tracking technology, how do kidnappers confidently make phone calls demanding N100 million without being instantly triangulated and neutralized?
This brazen attack on Joseph Aladdui is a stark reminder that the war on insecurity in Nigeria is far from over. It is a wake-up call to the authorities that agricultural hubs must be treated as critical national infrastructure, deserving of the highest level of security and surveillance.
Until the forests are cleared of these syndicates, the gospel of returning to the farm will remain a dangerous, potentially fatal sermon.
As you read this, a daughter is crying for the father she watched being dragged away. A community is praying for the safe return of a man who only wanted to feed his nation. And somewhere deep in the bush, a wounded man is praying for a miracle.
If you were in a position of ultimate power in this country, what is the very first aggressive step you would take today to permanently wipe out these bush-path kidnappers and secure our farmlands?
The clock is ticking, and a man’s life hangs in the balance. Let us not stay silent.
Drop your thoughts in the comments below, share this story across all your networks to raise awareness, and let us pray for the safe and immediate return of Joseph “Jotina” Aladdui.
