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| Meta Title | I Woke Up With a Gun to My Head. It Was the Nigerian Police | Zikoko! | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Meta Description | Ayo* was awakened from a nap with a gun to his face. He shares how that day has left him still holding a grudge against the Police. | |||||||||||||||||||||
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| Boilerpipe Text | The Nigerian Police Force has a
long history
of abuse and extortion. Random searches, unwarranted detentions, and the targeting of young people for extortion
led
to the nationwide
#EndSARS
protests in 2020. Years later,
little has changed
and police reform remains an unfulfilled promise.
Ayo* was having a nice afternoon nap in his hostel when he was rudely awakened with a gun to his face. His day was about to get much worse in ways that have left him still holding a grudge against the Nigerian Police.
This is Ayoâs story as told to Franklyn
Anywhere they are hating on the Nigerian Police is my kind of space. I have plenty of reasons for how I feel about that organisation; too many unpleasant run-ins to count. But one I will never forget happened during my university days in Ilorin.
It was one of those lazy afternoons that make a midday nap really slap. The guys from the room next door had come over to mine to gist and play video games. Usually, I would have joined in the banter, but that nap was calling my name.
Since they were in my room, theirs was empty. I left them with my roommate and went to their room instead. From there, their noise became a soft hum that lulled me to sleep. I cannot say how long I was out, maybe an hour, before I sensed the door open.
I cracked my eyes just a little, and the first thing I saw was the sneakers. My gaze travelled up from the shoes to the worn jeans, and then I was staring down a dark tunnel with no light at the end. I was looking straight into the barrel of an AK-47.
If I had even thought for a moment that they were armed robbers, it vanished quickly. I knew that look too wellâthe black shirts, jeans, sneakers, sometimes a face cap. It was the Nigerian Police.
I found myself wondering, as I often do, why our thugs-in-uniform carry assault rifles like they are in a warzone. But that was not the time for such thoughts. The gun in my face had jolted me awake, and I sat up quickly.
âWhat is happening here?â I asked, rubbing my eyes.
âWe are here for you people!â one of them barked.
***
Get More Zikoko Goodness in Your Mail
Subscribe to our newsletters and never miss any of the action
Zikoko Daily
Ships
Money by Zikoko
Her
I lived in a private hostel off campus with a bunch of other guys. One of them, who had moved out a few months earlier, had a run-in with the police. They searched his phone and found something incriminating.
This was 2018, when Internet fraud was booming and the police were cashing out too, extorting guys through random searches and phone checks. Even those of us just minding our business were caught in the mess.
They arrested him and asked him to take them to his place. For reasons best known to him, he brought them to our hostel instead of wherever he was actually staying. That was how I ended up being woken up with a gun in my face.
***
The guys in my room must have heard the commotion and bolted. That was the standard reaction. In Ilorin, as a young man in 2018, you see the police, you run. If they had not caught me asleep, I would have run too.
My roommate was not fast enough.
They saw him leaving and called him back. He lied, saying he lived in a different room and was heading there. I do not know if they did not believe him or just felt lucky to have caught someone, since the others had escaped.
The officers held both of us and began searching our room. They tore it apart, flipping everything, throwing clothes off hangers. They did not find anything incriminating, but they did find our IDs, which exposed my roommateâs lie.
So much of that day is burned into my memory, but the worst part is a sound I still remember too clearly after all this time. The whole hostel heard the slap one of the officers landed on my roommateâs face. More slaps followed as they started to drag him away.
I am a big, tall guy, and I have noticed that it brings a sort of respect. People listen when I speak. I naturally fall into a big brother role with my friends. So I stepped in.
I told the officers he had done nothing wrong. They had not found anything on him. Lying about his room was not enough reason for this kind of treatment.
I said, âYou are not taking him anywhere.â
Omo
, it was like play. Before I knew it, they carried the two of us.
***
They dragged us downstairs to their vehicle. It was not even the usual Hilux pickup truck. They had come in a taxi. I still remember its distinct yellow and green paint job. I was still trying to figure out how we would all fit when one of them opened the boot.
They shoved my roommate in first. Then me. Like I said, I am a big guy, so the boot would not close with us inside. They kept trying to force it shut, but it was not working. Then one officer stepped up and slapped me across the face.
As I recoiled in pain, my body bent just enough for them to slam the boot shut, pinning me in the most uncomfortable position. Then they started driving.
I do not know how long we were in there. I tried to memorise the turns, listened to the sounds outside, anything to figure out where we were going.
When the car stopped and they let us out, I was not surprised that we were not at a police station. Nothing about this had felt official. We were at a really big tree, and from the way they immediately made themselves comfortable, I could tell it was their usual hangout spot.
It was then that the negotiations began.
***
They told us we had to go if we wanted to be set free. After some haggling, we settled on âŚ15,000. Of course, we did not have the cash, so it was agreed that I would go and get it while my roommate stayed behind.
One of the officers flagged down a motorcycle for me. It took me to the nearest ATM, where I withdrew the money. I returned and gave the officers the money.
As we left, they shouted warnings after us. âIf we come una side next time find anything for una hand, na serious trouble!â
I still think about the madness of that day. How I just wanted a nap, only to be woken up with a gun in my face, shoved into a car boot, slapped and extorted. I knew from the start they were not armed robbers, but looking back, I ask myself if thereâs any real difference. Armed men woke me up, assaulted me and took my money.
As long as I am alive, the Nigerian Police will always have at least one hater. God will actually punish them on my behalf.
Share your story with us
here
if youâve ever had a moment where Nigeriaâs systems made life harder or unexpectedly easier. We want to hear about your personal experiences that reflect how politics or public systems affect daily life in Nigeria. Weâd love to hear from you!
Click here to see what other people are saying about this article on Instagram | |||||||||||||||||||||
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## I Woke Up With a Gun to My Head. It Was the Nigerian Police
Police or thief, whatâs really the difference?
Written By:
[Franklyn Usouwa](https://www.zikoko.com/author/franklyn/)
Date Written:
September 11, 2025
[ Add us on Google](https://www.google.com/preferences/source?q=zikoko.com)
Share
The Nigerian Police Force has a [long history](https://www.refworld.org/reference/countryrep/osi/2010/en/76348) of abuse and extortion. Random searches, unwarranted detentions, and the targeting of young people for extortion [led](https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2017/12/15/nigerians-want-polices-sars-force-scrapped/) to the nationwide [\#EndSARS](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/End_SARS) protests in 2020. Years later, [little has changed](https://www.amnesty.org.ng/2024/10/20/nigeria-rampant-police-atrocities-continue-4-years-after-endsars-protests/) and police reform remains an unfulfilled promise.
Ayo\* was having a nice afternoon nap in his hostel when he was rudely awakened with a gun to his face. His day was about to get much worse in ways that have left him still holding a grudge against the Nigerian Police.
## This is Ayoâs story as told to Franklyn
Anywhere they are hating on the Nigerian Police is my kind of space. I have plenty of reasons for how I feel about that organisation; too many unpleasant run-ins to count. But one I will never forget happened during my university days in Ilorin.
It was one of those lazy afternoons that make a midday nap really slap. The guys from the room next door had come over to mine to gist and play video games. Usually, I would have joined in the banter, but that nap was calling my name.
Since they were in my room, theirs was empty. I left them with my roommate and went to their room instead. From there, their noise became a soft hum that lulled me to sleep. I cannot say how long I was out, maybe an hour, before I sensed the door open.
I cracked my eyes just a little, and the first thing I saw was the sneakers. My gaze travelled up from the shoes to the worn jeans, and then I was staring down a dark tunnel with no light at the end. I was looking straight into the barrel of an AK-47.
If I had even thought for a moment that they were armed robbers, it vanished quickly. I knew that look too wellâthe black shirts, jeans, sneakers, sometimes a face cap. It was the Nigerian Police.
I found myself wondering, as I often do, why our thugs-in-uniform carry assault rifles like they are in a warzone. But that was not the time for such thoughts. The gun in my face had jolted me awake, and I sat up quickly.
âWhat is happening here?â I asked, rubbing my eyes.
âWe are here for you people!â one of them barked.
\*\*\*
## Get More Zikoko Goodness in Your Mail
Subscribe to our newsletters and never miss any of the action
Zikoko Daily
Ships
Money by Zikoko
Her
I lived in a private hostel off campus with a bunch of other guys. One of them, who had moved out a few months earlier, had a run-in with the police. They searched his phone and found something incriminating.
This was 2018, when Internet fraud was booming and the police were cashing out too, extorting guys through random searches and phone checks. Even those of us just minding our business were caught in the mess.
They arrested him and asked him to take them to his place. For reasons best known to him, he brought them to our hostel instead of wherever he was actually staying. That was how I ended up being woken up with a gun in my face.
\*\*\*
The guys in my room must have heard the commotion and bolted. That was the standard reaction. In Ilorin, as a young man in 2018, you see the police, you run. If they had not caught me asleep, I would have run too.
My roommate was not fast enough.
They saw him leaving and called him back. He lied, saying he lived in a different room and was heading there. I do not know if they did not believe him or just felt lucky to have caught someone, since the others had escaped.
The officers held both of us and began searching our room. They tore it apart, flipping everything, throwing clothes off hangers. They did not find anything incriminating, but they did find our IDs, which exposed my roommateâs lie.
So much of that day is burned into my memory, but the worst part is a sound I still remember too clearly after all this time. The whole hostel heard the slap one of the officers landed on my roommateâs face. More slaps followed as they started to drag him away.
I am a big, tall guy, and I have noticed that it brings a sort of respect. People listen when I speak. I naturally fall into a big brother role with my friends. So I stepped in.
I told the officers he had done nothing wrong. They had not found anything on him. Lying about his room was not enough reason for this kind of treatment.
I said, âYou are not taking him anywhere.â
*Omo*, it was like play. Before I knew it, they carried the two of us.
\*\*\*
They dragged us downstairs to their vehicle. It was not even the usual Hilux pickup truck. They had come in a taxi. I still remember its distinct yellow and green paint job. I was still trying to figure out how we would all fit when one of them opened the boot.
They shoved my roommate in first. Then me. Like I said, I am a big guy, so the boot would not close with us inside. They kept trying to force it shut, but it was not working. Then one officer stepped up and slapped me across the face.
As I recoiled in pain, my body bent just enough for them to slam the boot shut, pinning me in the most uncomfortable position. Then they started driving.
I do not know how long we were in there. I tried to memorise the turns, listened to the sounds outside, anything to figure out where we were going.
When the car stopped and they let us out, I was not surprised that we were not at a police station. Nothing about this had felt official. We were at a really big tree, and from the way they immediately made themselves comfortable, I could tell it was their usual hangout spot.
It was then that the negotiations began.
\*\*\*
They told us we had to go if we wanted to be set free. After some haggling, we settled on âŚ15,000. Of course, we did not have the cash, so it was agreed that I would go and get it while my roommate stayed behind.
One of the officers flagged down a motorcycle for me. It took me to the nearest ATM, where I withdrew the money. I returned and gave the officers the money.
As we left, they shouted warnings after us. âIf we come una side next time find anything for una hand, na serious trouble!â
I still think about the madness of that day. How I just wanted a nap, only to be woken up with a gun in my face, shoved into a car boot, slapped and extorted. I knew from the start they were not armed robbers, but looking back, I ask myself if thereâs any real difference. Armed men woke me up, assaulted me and took my money.
As long as I am alive, the Nigerian Police will always have at least one hater. God will actually punish them on my behalf.
***
***Share your story with us [here](https://forms.gle/wERpsGFXK1qdhLg39) if youâve ever had a moment where Nigeriaâs systems made life harder or unexpectedly easier. We want to hear about your personal experiences that reflect how politics or public systems affect daily life in Nigeria. Weâd love to hear from you\!***
***
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Share this story
About the Authors
[Franklyn Usouwa](https://www.zikoko.com/author/franklyn/)
A lover of stories, doing what he loves.
## More By This Author
- [](https://www.zikoko.com/citizen/getting-a-masters-in-scotland-to-escape-tinubus-nigeria/)
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*Source: Zikoko*
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March 13, 2026
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| Readable Markdown | The Nigerian Police Force has a [long history](https://www.refworld.org/reference/countryrep/osi/2010/en/76348) of abuse and extortion. Random searches, unwarranted detentions, and the targeting of young people for extortion [led](https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2017/12/15/nigerians-want-polices-sars-force-scrapped/) to the nationwide [\#EndSARS](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/End_SARS) protests in 2020. Years later, [little has changed](https://www.amnesty.org.ng/2024/10/20/nigeria-rampant-police-atrocities-continue-4-years-after-endsars-protests/) and police reform remains an unfulfilled promise.
Ayo\* was having a nice afternoon nap in his hostel when he was rudely awakened with a gun to his face. His day was about to get much worse in ways that have left him still holding a grudge against the Nigerian Police.
## This is Ayoâs story as told to Franklyn
Anywhere they are hating on the Nigerian Police is my kind of space. I have plenty of reasons for how I feel about that organisation; too many unpleasant run-ins to count. But one I will never forget happened during my university days in Ilorin.
It was one of those lazy afternoons that make a midday nap really slap. The guys from the room next door had come over to mine to gist and play video games. Usually, I would have joined in the banter, but that nap was calling my name.
Since they were in my room, theirs was empty. I left them with my roommate and went to their room instead. From there, their noise became a soft hum that lulled me to sleep. I cannot say how long I was out, maybe an hour, before I sensed the door open.
I cracked my eyes just a little, and the first thing I saw was the sneakers. My gaze travelled up from the shoes to the worn jeans, and then I was staring down a dark tunnel with no light at the end. I was looking straight into the barrel of an AK-47.
If I had even thought for a moment that they were armed robbers, it vanished quickly. I knew that look too wellâthe black shirts, jeans, sneakers, sometimes a face cap. It was the Nigerian Police.
I found myself wondering, as I often do, why our thugs-in-uniform carry assault rifles like they are in a warzone. But that was not the time for such thoughts. The gun in my face had jolted me awake, and I sat up quickly.
âWhat is happening here?â I asked, rubbing my eyes.
âWe are here for you people!â one of them barked.
\*\*\*
## Get More Zikoko Goodness in Your Mail
Subscribe to our newsletters and never miss any of the action
Zikoko Daily Ships Money by Zikoko Her
I lived in a private hostel off campus with a bunch of other guys. One of them, who had moved out a few months earlier, had a run-in with the police. They searched his phone and found something incriminating.
This was 2018, when Internet fraud was booming and the police were cashing out too, extorting guys through random searches and phone checks. Even those of us just minding our business were caught in the mess.
They arrested him and asked him to take them to his place. For reasons best known to him, he brought them to our hostel instead of wherever he was actually staying. That was how I ended up being woken up with a gun in my face.
\*\*\*
The guys in my room must have heard the commotion and bolted. That was the standard reaction. In Ilorin, as a young man in 2018, you see the police, you run. If they had not caught me asleep, I would have run too.
My roommate was not fast enough.
They saw him leaving and called him back. He lied, saying he lived in a different room and was heading there. I do not know if they did not believe him or just felt lucky to have caught someone, since the others had escaped.
The officers held both of us and began searching our room. They tore it apart, flipping everything, throwing clothes off hangers. They did not find anything incriminating, but they did find our IDs, which exposed my roommateâs lie.
So much of that day is burned into my memory, but the worst part is a sound I still remember too clearly after all this time. The whole hostel heard the slap one of the officers landed on my roommateâs face. More slaps followed as they started to drag him away.
I am a big, tall guy, and I have noticed that it brings a sort of respect. People listen when I speak. I naturally fall into a big brother role with my friends. So I stepped in.
I told the officers he had done nothing wrong. They had not found anything on him. Lying about his room was not enough reason for this kind of treatment.
I said, âYou are not taking him anywhere.â
*Omo*, it was like play. Before I knew it, they carried the two of us.
\*\*\*
They dragged us downstairs to their vehicle. It was not even the usual Hilux pickup truck. They had come in a taxi. I still remember its distinct yellow and green paint job. I was still trying to figure out how we would all fit when one of them opened the boot.
They shoved my roommate in first. Then me. Like I said, I am a big guy, so the boot would not close with us inside. They kept trying to force it shut, but it was not working. Then one officer stepped up and slapped me across the face.
As I recoiled in pain, my body bent just enough for them to slam the boot shut, pinning me in the most uncomfortable position. Then they started driving.
I do not know how long we were in there. I tried to memorise the turns, listened to the sounds outside, anything to figure out where we were going.
When the car stopped and they let us out, I was not surprised that we were not at a police station. Nothing about this had felt official. We were at a really big tree, and from the way they immediately made themselves comfortable, I could tell it was their usual hangout spot.
It was then that the negotiations began.
\*\*\*
They told us we had to go if we wanted to be set free. After some haggling, we settled on âŚ15,000. Of course, we did not have the cash, so it was agreed that I would go and get it while my roommate stayed behind.
One of the officers flagged down a motorcycle for me. It took me to the nearest ATM, where I withdrew the money. I returned and gave the officers the money.
As we left, they shouted warnings after us. âIf we come una side next time find anything for una hand, na serious trouble!â
I still think about the madness of that day. How I just wanted a nap, only to be woken up with a gun in my face, shoved into a car boot, slapped and extorted. I knew from the start they were not armed robbers, but looking back, I ask myself if thereâs any real difference. Armed men woke me up, assaulted me and took my money.
As long as I am alive, the Nigerian Police will always have at least one hater. God will actually punish them on my behalf.
***
***Share your story with us [here](https://forms.gle/wERpsGFXK1qdhLg39) if youâve ever had a moment where Nigeriaâs systems made life harder or unexpectedly easier. We want to hear about your personal experiences that reflect how politics or public systems affect daily life in Nigeria. Weâd love to hear from you\!***
***
[Click here to see what other people are saying about this article on Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/zikokomag/p/DOghNkbDiVP/?next=%2F) | |||||||||||||||||||||
| ML Classification | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| ML Categories |
Raw JSON{
"/People_and_Society": 689,
"/People_and_Society/Social_Issues_and_Advocacy": 615,
"/Law_and_Government": 535,
"/Law_and_Government/Public_Safety": 307,
"/Law_and_Government/Public_Safety/Law_Enforcement": 283,
"/People_and_Society/Social_Issues_and_Advocacy/Work_and_Labor_Issues": 245,
"/News": 105
} | |||||||||||||||||||||
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Raw JSON{
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| Content Metadata | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| Language | en-us | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Author | Franklyn Usouwa | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Publish Time | 2025-09-11 13:05:06 (7 months ago) | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Original Publish Time | 2025-09-11 13:05:06 (7 months ago) | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Republished | No | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Word Count (Total) | 1,553 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Word Count (Content) | 1,272 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Links | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| External Links | 16 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Internal Links | 73 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Technical SEO | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| Meta Nofollow | No | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Meta Noarchive | No | |||||||||||||||||||||
| JS Rendered | Yes | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Redirect Target | null | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Performance | ||||||||||||||||||||||
| Download Time (ms) | 255 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| TTFB (ms) | 247 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Download Size (bytes) | 168,673 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Shard | 56 (laksa) | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Root Hash | 18242359780378176856 | |||||||||||||||||||||
| Unparsed URL | com,zikoko!www,/citizen/woke-up-with-a-gun-to-my-head/ s443 | |||||||||||||||||||||