It’s been eleven long, painful years.
For most people, time may have dulled the memory of the Chibok schoolgirls’ abduction — that dark April night in 2014 when Boko Haram stormed a girls’ secondary school in Borno State and snatched away 276 teenage girls in their sleep. But for 87 families, the wound is still fresh. And the silence from the Nigerian government? It’s salt on an already open sore.
On Tuesday, 22nd July, three parents of the missing Chibok girls released a joint statement that stirred old memories and sparked fresh anger. “Our daughters are still out there,” they said plainly — with the kind of weariness only grief and waiting can produce. “We’ve heard promises. Now we want action.”
The Ones Still Lost
So far, 103 of the kidnapped girls have returned — some rescued, some escaped. But 87 remain missing. According to various reports, some may be trapped deep within the forests of Kaduna or Sambisa — living not just in hiding, but in fear. Some have reportedly been forced into “marriages” with insurgents. Others are said to have borne children. All of them, still out of reach.
“You can’t even grieve properly,” said one mother who asked not to be named. “There’s no closure. Just emptiness.”
The parents, backed by civil society groups and activists, are now calling on the current government to stop treating their case like a broken record — all talk, no results. “This is not politics. These are our children,” they said.
Forgotten But Not Gone
For many Nigerians, the phrase “Bring Back Our Girls” once echoed through the streets, painted on placards and shouted at protests in Abuja and Lagos. But with the passage of time, it became a hashtag that faded. Still, for the parents and communities involved, the reality has never changed.
“It’s like we’re screaming into a void,” one father said during a call with reporters. “People moved on. We didn’t.”
And who could blame them?
Beyond Rescue
Rescuing the girls, experts say, is only part of the job. What happens after — the healing, the rebuilding — is where Nigeria has also dropped the ball.
According to the Murtala Muhammed Foundation, 21 of the freed girls have had 34 children while in captivity. That’s not just a statistic. That’s trauma, multiplied. It’s young women robbed of their futures, trying to navigate a world that moved on without them.
Dr. Amina Bala, a trauma specialist working with survivors, said: “Some of these girls returned to nothing — no therapy, no school, no job training. We must treat them as survivors, not statistics.”
Advocates believe that properly reintegrating the freed girls could even encourage others still held to come forward. “If those in captivity hear that life outside is possible — not just survival but dignity — it could give them hope,” said activist Fati Ibrahim.
Time Is Not Mercy
It’s often said in Nigeria that “God’s time is the best,” but when it comes to lost daughters, time is no friend. The longer it takes, the deeper the damage. The Chibok parents know this. They live it.
Eleven years is enough time for a girl to finish school, get a degree, start a family on her own terms. But many of these girls didn’t get that chance. Instead, they were forced into a life chosen for them by violence.
Still, their families hold on.
“Even if it takes 20 years,” said one parent, “we will keep asking, keep hoping. They are our children. And we will not be quiet.”
In their statement, the parents didn’t ask for pity. They didn’t even ask for sympathy. Just a simple, heart-wrenching plea:
“Bring Back Our Girls — every single one.”
And maybe, just maybe, this time… Nigeria will listen.
