In Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido communities, the gunfire had stopped, but fear remained. Hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site reportedly left six people dead, a visit to the communities revealed not only the scars of violence but also the challenges of poor roads, weak security access and years of neglect, writeIdowu JohnsonandIyanuoluwa AbiolaThe journey to Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido communities in Obafemi-Owode Local Government Area of Ogun State offered an early glimpse into the challenges residents face.At about 8:55 a.m., a colleague and I boarded a commercial motorcycle from Ofada, the nearest major town and location of the closest police post to the affected communities. Though the distance did not appear far, the trip quickly revealed why residents often complain about isolation and delayed emergency response.For the next 35 minutes, the rider navigated muddy roads, deep potholes and flooded stretches. Erosion and heavy rains had turned sections of the route into muddy traps, forcing the motorcycle to move cautiously.At several points, potholes hidden beneath muddy water threatened to trap the motorcycle’s tyres. The rider repeatedly slowed down to avoid accidents. Residents said the road becomes even more difficult during the rainy season.By the time we arrived in Fowowawo around 9:30 a.m., the journey had already illustrated the daily hardship of getting in and out of the communities.The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The journey to Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido communities in Obafemi-Owode Local Government Area of Ogun State offered an early glimpse into the challenges residents face.At about 8:55 a.m., a colleague and I boarded a commercial motorcycle from Ofada, the nearest major town and location of the closest police post to the affected communities. Though the distance did not appear far, the trip quickly revealed why residents often complain about isolation and delayed emergency response.For the next 35 minutes, the rider navigated muddy roads, deep potholes and flooded stretches. Erosion and heavy rains had turned sections of the route into muddy traps, forcing the motorcycle to move cautiously.At several points, potholes hidden beneath muddy water threatened to trap the motorcycle’s tyres. The rider repeatedly slowed down to avoid accidents. Residents said the road becomes even more difficult during the rainy season.By the time we arrived in Fowowawo around 9:30 a.m., the journey had already illustrated the daily hardship of getting in and out of the communities.The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. At about 8:55 a.m., a colleague and I boarded a commercial motorcycle from Ofada, the nearest major town and location of the closest police post to the affected communities. Though the distance did not appear far, the trip quickly revealed why residents often complain about isolation and delayed emergency response.For the next 35 minutes, the rider navigated muddy roads, deep potholes and flooded stretches. Erosion and heavy rains had turned sections of the route into muddy traps, forcing the motorcycle to move cautiously.At several points, potholes hidden beneath muddy water threatened to trap the motorcycle’s tyres. The rider repeatedly slowed down to avoid accidents. Residents said the road becomes even more difficult during the rainy season.By the time we arrived in Fowowawo around 9:30 a.m., the journey had already illustrated the daily hardship of getting in and out of the communities.The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. For the next 35 minutes, the rider navigated muddy roads, deep potholes and flooded stretches. Erosion and heavy rains had turned sections of the route into muddy traps, forcing the motorcycle to move cautiously.At several points, potholes hidden beneath muddy water threatened to trap the motorcycle’s tyres. The rider repeatedly slowed down to avoid accidents. Residents said the road becomes even more difficult during the rainy season.By the time we arrived in Fowowawo around 9:30 a.m., the journey had already illustrated the daily hardship of getting in and out of the communities.The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. At several points, potholes hidden beneath muddy water threatened to trap the motorcycle’s tyres. The rider repeatedly slowed down to avoid accidents. Residents said the road becomes even more difficult during the rainy season.By the time we arrived in Fowowawo around 9:30 a.m., the journey had already illustrated the daily hardship of getting in and out of the communities.The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. By the time we arrived in Fowowawo around 9:30 a.m., the journey had already illustrated the daily hardship of getting in and out of the communities.The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The road itself reflected years of neglect and reinforced one of the complaints residents repeatedly raised during our visit — that help often takes too long to reach them in times of emergency.Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Less than 48 hours after a failed kidnap attempt at a dredging site left six people dead, fear still hung heavily over the communities.The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The roads were largely deserted. Shops that normally served residents and workers remained shut, while many homes were locked as families fled in the aftermath of the attack.As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. As our motorcycle entered Fowowawo, signs of anxiety were unmistakable. The few people outside regarded strangers with caution. Conversations were subdued, and memories of the gunfire and bloodshed remained fresh.The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The attack occurred on Monday morning when armed men stormed a dredging site in Magbon-Etido in an apparent attempt to abduct a Chinese worker. Security operatives and local hunters who responded were drawn into a fierce gun battle that left a soldier, a local hunter and four others dead.For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. For many residents, however, the casualty figures mattered less than the trauma they now lived with.What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. What lingered most was an unsettling silence.Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Apart from birds chirping and the occasional sound of a passing tipper truck, there was little noise. In communities where traders, labourers and dredging workers usually create constant activity, the quietness felt strange.A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. A group of young men, believed to be casual labourers, sat under a bamboo shed with shovels and cutlasses beside them.Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Their faces showed uncertainty. They hoped work would soon resume, but they also feared another attack.For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. For men who depend on daily wages, every day without work means no income. Yet none of them seemed willing to return to the dredging site.At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. At a gathering of men discussing the incident under a tree, one resident who asked not to be named explained how what first appeared to be a workers’ dispute turned out to be an attack by kidnappers.According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. According to him, local hunters were called after reports of trouble at the dredging site.“We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “We were informed that some boys were fighting and our Baale called us to go there. When we got there, we were in the midst of the kidnappers but we didn’t know they were kidnappers. There were five of them.“The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “The Agbekoya that was among us shot into the air so that we could know where they were, but they responded by firing at us. It was a bullet from their gunfire that hit one guy called Ewe. Everyone began scampering for safety. I escaped through the water,” he said.His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. His voice shook as he recalled the incident. He said efforts to get support took several hours and one of their colleagues had died before help arrived.“When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “When we came out to call for support at about 2 pm, the security forces did not arrive until about 6 pm. When we got back to the scene, Ewe had already died,” he added.Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Residents said their fear was not only because of Monday’s attack. They also remembered a similar incident that happened about three years ago.Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Community members recalled that some workers were kidnapped then and later released after a ransom was paid. That experience has increased fears that the latest attack may not be a one-off incident.“A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “A similar kidnapping had occurred about three years ago and the kidnappers escaped through the river,” the resident added.As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. As we moved around the communities, the economic impact of the attack became obvious.Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Roadside kiosks were closed. Small businesses that depended on dredging workers had stopped operating. The usual movement of tippers, motorcycles and commercial activities had reduced greatly.Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Residents pointed towards the dredging site from a distance. No one wanted to go close to it. What was once a source of livelihood had become a reminder of Monday’s bloodshed. Workers who normally moved around the area were nowhere to be seen.In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. In Ajerogun, the community leader, Baale Nurudeen Salisu, was not at home when our correspondent arrived.His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. His wife sat quietly in her shop. Business was slow, and the atmosphere reflected the uncertainty residents had lived with since the attack.After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. After she contacted him, Salisu arrived and began explaining how a normal Monday morning suddenly turned into chaos when news spread that armed men had attacked the dredging site.According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. According to him, the attackers met soldiers deployed to protect workers and immediately opened fire.“An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “An incident like this happened about three years ago when some workers at the dredging site were kidnapped. They were released after a ransom of N5m was paid. Since then, we told the dredgers to engage security operatives, which they did by employing the services of soldiers,” he said.Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Salisu said information available to the community suggested that the Chinese worker was the main target of the attackers.He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. He said the gunmen became violent when they discovered armed security personnel at the site.“It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “It was a Chinese man who joined them at the dredging site about a year ago, who was the target of the kidnappers, but I guess when they arrived and saw the soldiers, that was why they killed one of them and broke the leg of the second soldier,” he said.Related NewsPolice report: Bandits launch over 50 attacks in one weekLiving beside death: Ogun residents battle toxic dumpsite, killer road2027: Ogun APC names Adegunwa-Balogun Yayi’s running mateBut beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. But beyond the casualty figures and security reports, one story appeared to affect residents more than any other.As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. As Salisu spoke, his voice became softer when he mentioned a woman known in the community for selling koko, a local corn meal.According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. According to him, she had started the business only six months earlier.She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. She was not originally a trader. She started selling koko because she did not want to sit idle at home.Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Every morning, she prepared the meal and sold it to workers and security personnel at the dredging site.On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. On the day of the attack, she had followed her normal routine, unaware that armed men were heading to the area.“She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “She was selling koko to one of the soldiers when the gunmen opened fire,” Salisu said.The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The woman never returned home.Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Residents described her death as one of the most painful parts of the tragedy because she was neither a security operative nor a dredging worker.She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. She was simply trying to earn a living.For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. For many residents, her story represents the true tragedy of the attack — how an ordinary effort to provide for a family ended in death and left a family and community in mourning.Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Salisu said insecurity was only one of several problems facing the communities.According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. According to him, government presence is almost non-existent in the area.He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. He said there is no government-owned school or public hospital, forcing residents to travel long distances for education and healthcare.“We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “We don’t have a government school here. We don’t have a government hospital either. Whenever anyone is sick, we have to take them out of the community. Our children also have to go outside the community for schooling,” he said.Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Looking around, it was easy to notice the lack of public infrastructure.Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Apart from houses, small shops and dredging activities, there was little sign of government presence.Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Residents said the absence of basic amenities and the poor road network have left them feeling abandoned and exposed, especially during emergencies.One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. One of the most striking things during the visit was the number of people who had already left the communities.Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Almost everyone interviewed spoke about families moving to safer places, at least for now.The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The chairman of the Agbekoya group in Fowowawo, Musbau Adenekan, pointed to the unusual quietness as proof of the fear gripping residents.“This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. “This community is always full of activities from traders and dredgers, but since the incident happened on Monday, there has been panic and some people have already left their homes,” he said.The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The road linking the communities to Ofada, where the nearest police post is located, also came up repeatedly during discussions.The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The route is filled with potholes and difficult terrain, raising concerns about how quickly emergency responders can reach the area during attacks.This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. This reporter had to get off the motorcycle several times during the journey to avoid falling into muddy water as the rider struggled through damaged sections of the road.Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Residents said the poor condition of the road continues to put them at risk, especially when attacks happen in remote areas.They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. They claimed security personnel responding to Monday’s attack found it difficult to reach the area quickly because of the bad road.Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Despite assurances from authorities that efforts are being made to arrest the suspects and that the incident is not related to banditry, many residents are still not convinced that the danger is over.As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. As we prepared to leave, the atmosphere remained gloomy. The usual sounds of busy rural communities were largely missing. There were no crowded roadside gatherings. No busy markets. Very few children were seen playing outside.Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. Instead, there was silence.The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The silence of families who had packed their belongings and left.The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The silence of traders waiting for customers who may not return anytime soon.And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. And the silence of communities trying to recover from a tragedy that has reopened old wounds.The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The silence seemed to tell a bigger story — not only of communities traumatised by violence but also of settlements that have spent years struggling with isolation, poor roads and a lack of basic amenities.After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. After three exhausting hours, I finally arrived home. The physical stress of the journey soon faded, but the images remained: locked houses, abandoned homes, worried faces, deserted shops, labourers unsure of where their next meal would come from, and the story of a woman who simply went out to sell a bowl of koko and never returned.The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left. The silence of Fowowawo, Ajerogun and Magbon-Etido stayed with me long after I left.