The Vanishing of Festus Arekhandia.
Uromi, a bustling town in Edo State, has always stood at the crossroads of tradition, commerce, and tension. In recent years, the town has been scarred by incessant reports of kidnappings, herdsmen clashes, and gruesome killings on farmlands. It was against this turbulent backdrop that the name Festus Arekhandia rose into local and national consciousness—first as a voice of defiance and mobilization, and later as a fugitive shrouded in infamy and mystery.
The Vigilante Leader
before he became a wanted man, Festus was known as a trader, farmer, and youth leader. He had the charisma to mobilize hundreds of young men and market women. To many, he was the symbol of resistance against what locals described as the “siege of terror” unleashed by armed herdsmen and kidnappers.
For months, Festus spearheaded protest marches through the streets of Uromi. He led delegations to the royal palace, demanding intervention and security. He was described as fearless, outspoken, and uncompromising. Women wept openly during those marches, clutching placards bearing inscriptions like “Stop the Killings in Our Farms” and “Bring Back Safety to Uromi.”
The Day of Blood,
everything changed on the 27th day of March 2025, when seventeen men—suspected Hausa Fulani herdsmen, kidnappers, and terrorists—were rounded up and killed in Uromi. The incident shocked the nation, sparking outrage, condemnation, and fierce debates across media platforms.
The killings were brutal, their details haunting. To some, it was a moment of vigilante justice, a desperate community taking the law into its own hands after years of being failed by security agencies. To others, it was cold-blooded murder, an escalation that could plunge the town into deeper ethnic conflict.
Whispers soon began to circulate that Festus Arekhandia, the firebrand youth leader, had played a role in orchestrating the massacre.
The police swiftly declared him and many other suspects wanted for questioning. But by the time law enforcement arrived, Festus had vanished. His disappearance added fuel to the rumors. Some said he had fled across state borders, others claimed he had sought refuge in neighboring countries such as Togo or Ghana. A few believed he remained hidden within Uromi itself, protected by loyalists who saw him not as a criminal, but as a hero wronged by the system.
Family sources, however, revealed another scandal that cast an even darker cloud over his name: Festus had allegedly impregnated his 96-year-old father’s fourth young wife. In Uromi, where traditions and taboos hold immense weight, such an act was considered sacrilege—an abomination that threatened not just his reputation but also the spiritual harmony of his lineage.
The revelation deepened his estrangement from family and community. Even those who once marched at his side began to distance themselves.
The killings and Festus’ disappearance became a subject of national outrage. Civil society groups condemned the violence. Ethnic associations called for justice. Politicians waded in, some demanding accountability, others quietly sympathizing with the frustrations of communities living under fear.
But in Uromi, silence thickened. The same people who had once cheered Festus’ defiance now spoke in hushed tones. His name became dangerous to utter in public.
Where is Festus Arekhandia is the question mark in the minds of his people.
As weeks turned into months, Festus remained in the shadows. His face appeared on police wanted lists, but no arrest was made. Some swore he was sighted in Lagos, others in Benin, and still others in rural villages far from Uromi. His legend grew as much as his notoriety.
To his supporters, he is a fugitive of conscience—a man who stood up when the state failed and is now being hunted for defending his people. To his critics, he is a reckless vigilante who crossed moral, legal, and cultural lines, leaving behind bloodshed and dishonor.
Today, his whereabouts remain unknown. Authorities urge that any information leading to his capture should be reported immediately to both his family and the police. Yet the unanswered questions linger: Was Festus a savior betrayed, or a vigilante who lost control? Did he flee out of guilt, or out of fear of persecution?
For now, Uromi waits—haunted by its own silence and by the ghost of a man who once claimed to be its defender.