By Our Special Correspondent
OGUN — What began as a modest dream of building a livelihood from the soil has, for the Akinbo family, turned into a relentless journey of fear, loss, and displacement, one that continues to follow them across state lines and beyond.

For Mr. Emmanuel Olamide Akinbo and his wife, Mrs. Damilola Akinbo, the purchase of a one-acre farmland in Omiyiola village, Ogun State, in 2020 was meant to secure their future. Instead, it marked the beginning of a series of what would uproot their lives and test their very survival.

According to accounts shared with our reporter, tensions surfaced barely few months later. Armed herdsmen allegedly began encroaching on the farmland, grazing cattle across cultivated areas and confronting the owner with hostility. What made the encounters more troubling, the family claims, were the repeated verbal attacks tied to their Christian faith.

“It was no longer just about land,” a source close to the family revealed. “It became personal about who they were and what they believed.”

The situation escalated violently on May 20, 2021, when Mr. Akinbo was reportedly attacked and stabbed while attempting to protect his property. Despite lodging complaints with the village head, the family says no meaningful protection followed.
Weeks later, the atmosphere in the region grew even more volatile. In June 2021, a separate, but nearby violent incident involving the killing of a police officer and the abduction of foreign nationals deepened fears across surrounding communities, reinforcing what residents described as a growing sense of lawlessness.
By July, the Akinbos’ farm was again invaded. An employee was assaulted, and direct threats were allegedly issued, warnings the family says were explicitly linked to their identity and presence on the land.
The final blow came in November 2021.
In broad daylight, attackers reportedly destroyed the family’s means of livelihood, poisoning fishponds, killing livestock, and setting fire to the farm. What had taken years to build was reduced to ashes in a matter of hours.
With little hope of safety, the family fled to Abeokuta, South-West Nigeria.
But distance did not bring relief.
Within days of their arrival, Mrs. Akinbo was reportedly shot during an ambush while in transit from Lagos. Though she survived, the incident reinforced the family’s belief that they were being tracked.
A second relocation to Ibadan followed, yet the pattern of intimidation persisted. In February 2022, the killing of their guard dog was seen by the family as a deliberate signal which further deepened their fears that their movements were being monitored.
“Everywhere they went, the fear went with them,” the source said. “It was as though there was no hiding place.”
Years later, the threat has not faded.
On January 7, 2026, our reporter confirmed that Mr. Akinbo’s sister was assaulted at the remnants of the abandoned property in Ogun State. The attackers, according to sources, demanded information about his whereabouts, an indication that the search for him is still ongoing.
Beyond one family’s ordeal, the Akinbos’ experience mirrors a broader, systemic pattern of operations often attributed to militant Fulani herdsmen across Nigeria’s Middle Belt and Southwest. Our Correspondent note that these encounters frequently transcend simple land disagreements, evolving into a sophisticated mode of operation characterized by deliberate encroachment, the use of grazing as a precursor to territorial occupation, and the tactical use of fear to displace indigenous farming families like the Akinbos. By targeting livelihoods, poisoning water sources and burning harvests, the goal often shifts from resource competition to forced migration, leaving families like the Akinbos as permanent exiles in their own country.
Today, the Akinbo family remains displaced, their future uncertain, and their sense of home fractured. Those familiar with their situation say any return to their former community and even the country could expose them to grave danger.
For the Akinbos, however, the issue is no longer abstract. It is deeply personal.
A farm once meant to sustain life has instead become the reason they now live in exile, searching not for prosperity, but simply for safety.















