By Adenike Ayodele
When Lilian Adebayo accepted what appeared to be a lifeline out of hardship, she believed she was stepping into honest work.
Promised employment as a restaurant attendant in Bamako, Mali, Adebayo travelled with hope and trust.
What awaited her, however, was a brutal lesson in deception; one that reflects the silent crime destroying countless Nigerian lives.
On arrival, Adebayo discovered there was no job. Instead, she was met with exploitation, threats, and pressure to enter prostitution.
“They took away my phone and told me I owed them. That was when fear became my daily reality,” she recounted.
Like many victims of human trafficking, Adebayo’s ordeal thrived on isolation.
Cut off from family and home, she was meant to disappear quietly into a criminal network that profited from human misery.
Her eventual escape—made possible by the help of kind strangers who sheltered her—was rare and fraught with risk.
Adebayo’s story exposes how trafficking has evolved into an organised, transnational crime, fuelled by poverty, unemployment, and dangerous beliefs that normalise ritual abuse and exploitation.
For survivors like her, the story serves as a reminder that behind every statistic is a human face.
Stakeholders in Nigeria’s justice sector have warned that trafficking is no longer a series of isolated crimes but part of a sophisticated criminal economy.
According to the National Agency for the Prohibition of Trafficking in Persons (NAPTIP), more than 150 ritual-related killings were recorded in Nigeria in the first half of 2025 alone.
Similarly, the Lagos State Attorney-General and Commissioner for Justice, Mr Lawal Pedro (SAN), revealed on Oct. 23, 2025, that 4,753 victims of human trafficking were rescued and supported in the state between 2022 and 2024.
According to Pedro, most victims are women and youths, targeted because of vulnerability and limited access to justice.
Beyond the human suffering, he warned, trafficking posed a serious security threat.
“Criminal networks move across borders, fund other illegal activities and weaken state institutions,” he had told the gathering.
“In Lagos State, the scale of the crisis is evident: 4,753 victims were rescued and supported within just two years through coordinated efforts between the state government and NAPTIP.”
A Lagos-based human rights lawyer, Mrs Jumoke Ajayi, at the occasion, described trafficking as “a direct violation of the right to life, dignity and freedom.”
Ajayi noted that Nigeria had domesticated the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights, making the protection of victims a legal obligation rather than a choice.
Failure to enforce these rights, she said, only encouraged impunity.
“When traffickers see weak consequences, they see opportunity,” she explained.
“Until silence is replaced with action in courts, communities and government, the consequences of trafficking will remain loud, painful and deeply damaging to Nigeria’s humanity and security.
“We therefore call for stricter enforcement of existing laws and faster trials to deter offenders,” she said.
Another legal practitioner, Mrs Ruth Ojomo, stressed that the justice system must stop re-victimising survivors.
According to Ojomo, many victims experience renewed trauma during investigations and court proceedings.
“There is a need for survivor-centred prosecution, specialised courts and trained investigators who understand the psychology of trafficking victims,” she said.
“Delays and poor prosecution embolden criminal syndicates.
“Justice delayed is justice denied, and in trafficking cases, denial of justice often means a return to exploitation.”
Mr Thomas Akinpelu, another lawyer, directly linked trafficking to national security concerns.
According to him, trafficking networks operate like cartels—organised, well-funded and ruthless.
“If dismantling them is not treated as a security priority, the consequences will continue to spread beyond individual victims,” Akinpelu warned.
He added that trafficking fueled ritual killings, organ harvesting and cross-border crime, creating cycles of violence that undermined public safety.
Investigations by the News Agency of Nigeria (NAN) reveal that while precise statistics on organ harvesting linked to trafficking remain scarce due to the clandestine nature of the crime, available data offers troubling insight.
A nephrologist and consultant at Aminu Kano Teaching Hospital disclosed that between 2015 and 2020, at least 651 kidneys were illegally harvested and transplanted in Nigeria, with an estimated global market value exceeding 41 billion dollars.
Meanwhile, NAPTIP data for 2021 showed that “recruitment of persons for organ harvesting” was among the least reported trafficking cases, with only one case officially recorded—highlighting the difficulty in detection and documentation.
“This is no longer just a social problem; it is a security emergency,” Akinpelu said.
NAN further reports that stakeholders in the justice at sector echoed these concerns on Oct. 23, 2025, at the opening ceremony of the Africa Colloquium Against Human Trafficking, organised in partnership with Pepperdine University, California, USA.
The stakeholders called for stronger collaboration, increased public awareness, and sustained rehabilitation of trafficking survivors, stressing that laws alone are ineffective without political will and community vigilance.
News Agency of Nigeria.
