Adamu Mohammed had braced himself for the worst. Five weeks ago, when Boko Haram gunmen staged a mass abduction in the northern Nigerian town of Dapchi, his 15-year-old daughter Maryam was among the 110 girls dragged off in broad daylight.
As he prayed daily for her safe return, he knew all too well she could be forced into sex slavery, conscripted as a suicide bomber, or simply never seen again.
Last Wednesday, he did not bother attending a planned "solidarity" meeting with parents of the missing Chibok girls, convened by Dapchi elders in a vain attempt to raise morale. After all, if their children were still missing nearly four years later, despite the global #bringbackourgirls campaign, what…
To continue reading this article
Start a 30-day free trial for unlimited access to Premium articles
- Unlimited access to Premium articles
- Subscriber-only events and experiences
- Cancel any time
Free for 30 days
then only £2 per week
Save 25% with an annual subscription
Just £75 per year
Click Here: new zealand rugby team jerseys
Register for free and access one Premium article per week
Only subscribers have unlimited access to Premium articles.Register for free to continue reading this article
RegisterOr unlock all Premium articles.
Free for 30 days, then just £1 per week
Save 40% when you pay annually.
View all subscription options |
Already have an account? Login