Chikelue Iloenyosi reveals how notorious kidnap kingpin starved, beat his 86-year-old father to death in 2013—then buried him in a shallow forest grave while family negotiated for his release
When news broke in June 2017 that Chukwudubem Onwuamadike, better known as Evans, had finally been arrested by Lagos police, celebrations erupted across Nigeria. But in one compound in Abagana, Anambra State, the joy was personal—and tinged with four years of unanswered grief.
For Chikelue Iloenyosi, a former Super Eagles player who had plied his trade in France and Turkey, Evans' capture was the culmination of a nightmare that began one November morning in 2013. His father, 86-year-old Chief James Iloenyosi, had left for morning Mass at their local Catholic church and never returned.
The Ambush
Three SUVs double-crossed the elderly patriarch on his way home, whisking him away before witnesses could react. For five agonizing days, silence. Then a phone call to Chikelue's twin sister.
"She was sobbing when she called me that the kidnappers had made contact," Chikelue recalled, his voice heavy with emotion. "When we gathered, my sister called them again. They simply said they would call back. They didn't—not for another five days. They were building our anxiety."
When the kidnappers finally named their price, it was staggering: N50 million. Days of desperate negotiation followed—pleading, begging, exhausting every connection—until the sum dropped to N15 million.
The family scraped together every kobo. They paid.
A Cruel Deception
What they didn't know was that their father was already dead.
"While we were negotiating, they would call and put the phone on speaker so I could hear them beating him," Chikelue said, his voice cracking. "My father would cry and beg me to find a way to ensure his freedom."
The old man, stripped to his underwear, was kept in a cold room and regularly beaten—pressure tactics designed to force the family to pay faster. Behind the scenes, investigators would later learn, Chief Iloenyosi had already succumbed to starvation, exposure, or the brutality of his captors.
After the ransom was paid, the kidnappers demanded more money. Then they vanished. The family never heard from them again.
Four Months of Hell
For four months, Chikelue pursued every lead. Hundreds of Anambra State policemen combed forests. A private investigator was hired. A friend in Israel helped track phone signals. Nothing.
Then came a breakthrough: a gang member named Nonso was arrested.
The trail led to Cotonou, Benin Republic, where 18 operatives from the Inspector-General of Police's Intelligence Response Team accompanied Chikelue. A dead end. Then Lokoja, Kogi State, where Chikelue spent two months with a private tracker before finally cornering his prey.
"I was hearing a sound inside the hotel room. He was trying to escape through the window, but SARS operatives were already stationed around the hotel," Chikelue recounted.
When the suspect emerged claiming to be "Emmanuel," Chikelue played it cool. He pretended the man wasn't who they sought, then casually dialed a number. The phone in "Emmanuel's" pocket rang, displaying the contact name: "Kidnapper football."
Nonso was theirs.
The Confession
Nonso initially insisted Chief Iloenyosi was alive—a lie that kept hope flickering. But another suspect, a man called Onyeso detained on unrelated armed robbery charges, pulled Chikelue aside with a suggestion born of prison wisdom.
He advised staging Awolowo's execution to break the oath of secrecy binding the gang.
When police fired shots in the air and told Nonso his accomplice was dead, the dam broke. Nonso led them into the forest.
"We journeyed for three and a half hours before we got to where they buried him," Chikelue said. "I broke down. My sister fainted."
The grave, near Nneyi village in Umueri community, held the remains of a man who had been starved and beaten to death while his children scrambled to raise money for his release.
The Evans Connection
Nonso revealed that the operation was orchestrated by Evans, already a notorious figure known to Anambra SARS for bullion van robberies. "The SARS boss told me any suspect arrested for any major crime always mentioned Evans's name," Chikelue said.
The gang had been en route to a robbery when they received intelligence about Chief Iloenyosi—information Chikelue remains convinced came from someone within their community. They diverted to Abagana and executed the kidnap that would end an 86-year-old life.
No Mercy
When Evans was finally arrested in 2017, Chikelue felt vindication—and fury at the kidnapper's public pleas for sympathy.
"What Evans did to my family was the most painful thing anybody can experience," he said. "When I read he has been begging for sympathy, I just laughed. The death penalty for people like him is the only solution. Evans can never repent despite all the second chance he is begging for."
The Anambra State Police Command has confirmed it is liaising with Lagos authorities to ensure Evans's role in Chief Iloenyosi's kidnapping and murder is fully accounted for in the case against him.
For Chikelue, no conviction can undo what was lost. But it might, at least, ensure that the man who ordered his father beaten while he listened helplessly on the phone never gets the chance to do the same to another family.
"Every time they called, I could hear him cry," Chikelue said quietly. "I can still hear it."
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