How federal lawmaker snatched kidnapper’s wife, got trapped, paid dearly for it in Abuja

When a man is down and out, there’s no doubting his frustration; when his wife, the love of his life, now gives a cold shoulder because there’s the other man, there’s no doubting his desperation; and when the other man is a Nigerian federal lawmaker, there’s no doubting his criminality in defending his ego.

Cyril Isong rolled Hon. Jasper Akon (not real name) on August 4 last year in Abuja, and walked out of the crime scene, an Asokoro short-let apartment, with thousands of dollars and tens of thousands of naira.

He did all that for love.

“I wanted to deal with the man who broke my marriage,” he told the police which paraded him in Abuja during the week.

It was the last option for the IT expert who lost his livelihood and love at the same time to the 2020 pandemic. That was three years after he got married to Agnes (not real name).

“The first two years of our marriage were beautiful and we travelled across the world for business and pleasure,” he said.

“I thought our marriage was made in heaven until the COVID-19 pandemic destroyed everything. We lost many goods and we were indebted.”

And so the honeymoon turned dark. Agnes could neither understand nor cope with such twist of faith. She let loose.

Agnes met Hon. Akon, and became friends with benefits. Her attention then shifted online, and Isong gradually became her past. They were still livig together, and their extended family in Uyo, Akawa had no idea the marriage had hit a rough patch.

“Suddenly I noticed that my wife started locking her phones, “he said.

As an IT expert, a black-hat one at that, he was able to hack into her line, and spied on the many men that now stole his wife’s heart.

“I was frustrated reading how she begged them for money,” he said.

Jasper was one of the cheerful givers. A federal lawmaker earns at least N10 million monthly, in salaries and allowances. He earns over N100 million as constituency project vote. Some more millions as committee members and chief.

When Jasper visited the Isongs, the cash gift was hefty, and almost revealing, despite his play-acting Agnes’ relation.

“It was his visit that led to the final break-up of my marriage because I confronted my wife and she got angry and left.”

Isong sat down, his spirit floated out of their Abuja apartment the day she moved out. The thought of the honeymoon, the treats, the vows—all swarmed back into his mind.

Women.

Agnes still meant a lot to him. He blamed Covid-19. And Jasper.

If love held him from hitting her for skipping out on him, hate pushed him to hurting the moneyman who took her away.

The plan was buttoned up fast.

Isong connived with some old classmates back at university—cultists. Jasper would be baited into a booby trap. There he would pay big for his sin.

“They [friends] arranged one beautiful lady who spoke to him through a video call,” he said.

She played the damsel in distress. She needed Jasper’s help to get to hospital—from where she was, inside the N80,000-per-night apartment.

After much plea, the jailbird moved Jasper to come for the visit. Alone.

Jasper, in his account to the IGP Intelligence Response Team, said it wasn’t a lady the lured him to the apartment. An unknown caller introduced himself to Jasper as Sani, a former federal lawmaker.

Sani said he was feeling woozy, and he and to contact Jasper because he is in charge of ex-lawmakers affairs.

Jasper asked Sani to trudge down to his house in Abuja. That suggestion didn’t work because Sani was as sick as a dog. So Jasper headed to Asokoro.

Anyway, the honourable came, Isong said.

“We grabbed him and tied him up. I did not speak throughout because he might recognise my voice.

“We collected all the valuables and cash found on him and inside his car. He refused to call his family for more money; rather he asked for our account number. I knew that he wanted to set a trap for us. We didn’t beat him.”

When the shakedown was over, Isong and his gang left.

He got his pound of flesh? Not yet.

Cashing out after the robbery unveiled some goldmine. He saw it was all safe and sure dig deeper.

His next target was Tania. She ran a restaurant, and was made of money.

“We were friends but when my wife left, we started dating.”

When Tania shuttered her business, Isong helped her sell the assets, and he pinched N300,000 back from the sales, promising to refund quick. A broke-ass that he was had no intention to.

When he got tired of promising to pay back, Isong decided to hit her.

“I called her with an unknown number and introduced educational tourism to her in case she wanted her daughter to study abroad. We lured her into an apartment and collected N80,000 cash from her.’’

He preferred people he was intimate with as victims. So he hatched something similar— for his sister-in-law in Abuja.

Isong drew her out to the Asokoro apartment with a tight tissue of lies.

“When she arrived, I tied her up. We saw a lot of money in her dollar account but to withdraw was hard. We just took the N500,000 cash, and disappeared.”

Neither of the women bothered to report to the police like the honorable. They could have thought they were nobodies. They could have stood no chance in hell getting justice. Isong had left Abuja.

“I travelled back to Akwa Ibom since I could no longer afford to pay rent in Abuja,” he said.

“It was when I entered a bank to open an account that the police arrested me.”