ABUJA — On February 23, 2026, an explosive report by Agence France-Presse (AFP) thrust an uncomfortable question back into the heart of Nigeria’s national security debate: Despite years of public insistence that the state does not negotiate with terrorists, did money change hands to secure the freedom of the kidnapped pupils from Niger State?
The St. Mary’s Papiri ransom allegations have ignited a political firestorm, pitting investigative sourcing against categorical government denials. While the physical return of the 230 abducted children on February 15 was celebrated as a victory for “military pressure,” the emerging details of a potential multi-million dollar payout now threaten to undermine the legal foundations of Nigeria’s 2022 Terrorism (Prevention) Act.
As several of the Papiri pupils are understood to be undergoing state-supported trauma counseling in undisclosed locations, the narrative surrounding their release is shifting from a military triumph to a complex interrogation of the “kidnapping economy” that continues to grip Northern Nigeria.
What AFP Reported
AFP’s investigation presents a more complicated account.
Citing four intelligence sources with knowledge of the talks, the agency reported that a substantial payment formed part of the agreement.
The amount, described as “huge”, was estimated between ₦2 billion and ₦5.4 billion — roughly $7 million at the time. AFP noted that it could not independently verify the precise figure.
The same sources claimed the cash was transported by helicopter toward Gwoza in Borno State, an area long associated with factions of Boko Haram.
Officials have rejected that version of events outright.
According to the report, the arrangement may also have included:
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The release of two senior commanders
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The return of displaced residents to Audu Fari, a location analysts describe as strategically sensitive
One further detail drew attention: the assertion that a Boko Haram commander identified as Ali Ngulde crossed into Cameroon to confirm receipt of funds before the first group of children was freed.
No documents supporting these claims are publicly available. Nigerian authorities say they are false.
The Legal Sensitivity
The allegation cuts into sensitive legal ground.
In 2022, Nigeria amended its Terrorism (Prevention) Act to criminalise ransom payments to kidnappers and designated terrorist groups. The penalty carries a minimum prison term of 15 years.
The amendment followed repeated mass abductions, including the Abuja–Kaduna train attack. At the time, lawmakers framed it as an attempt to disrupt what security officials increasingly described as a kidnapping economy.
If ransom was paid in Papiri, critics argue, the state would be in tension with its own statute.
Others note that hostage crises often unfold in legal grey zones, especially where civilian lives are at immediate risk. No Nigerian court has tested how the law applies in negotiations conducted by or on behalf of the state.
Official Denials
The official position has remained firm.
The Office of the National Security Adviser, headed by Nuhu Ribadu, coordinated aspects of the broader response. Officials insist no ransom was authorised and that sustained operational pressure forced the captors to release the children.
A spokesperson for the Department of State Services dismissed the helicopter account as false.
Defence authorities, led by Christopher Musa, have reiterated that the armed forces do not pay ransom and rely instead on force projection and intelligence penetration.
That denial is consistent with years of public messaging.
It is also central to deterrence. Once a state is perceived as a predictable payer, kidnapping risks becoming a reliable revenue stream.
The Wider Pattern
Independent security trackers show how entrenched that economy has become.
Between mid-2022 and mid-2023, thousands were abducted nationwide, with ransom estimates running into billions of naira. The following year recorded nearly 3,000 additional cases. Even where payments are not confirmed, negotiations are frequent.
AFP’s report referenced a commander known as Sadiku, previously linked by security analysts to the 2022 Abuja–Kaduna train attack. There is no official confirmation tying him to the Papiri episode.
Still, analysts point to a pattern in which high-profile civilian targets are used to extract leverage.
For families in Papiri, the legal debate is secondary. What mattered was the safe return of their children.
For policymakers, the calculation is harder.
If money was paid, it may have shortened captivity. It may also strengthen the incentive structure behind future abductions. Refusing payment supports deterrence in theory but prolongs uncertainty for hostages.
No parliamentary inquiry has been announced. No judicial proceeding has examined the allegations in detail.
For now, the matter rests between investigative sourcing and categorical denial.
What is not disputed is that kidnapping remains financially viable in parts of northern Nigeria. Until that incentive shifts, cases like Papiri will continue to test the balance between law, security strategy and the immediate imperative to save lives.
