For many residents of the Federal Capital Territory, the shock begins the same way. A glance, then a second look, followed by the realisation that the car is gone.
Across Abuja, cars are disappearing from homes, court premises, offices and busy public spaces. What follows for the victims is the draining process of filing police reports and follow-ups that usually end in fading hope.
THE WHISTLER spoke with some of the victims on their experiences.
Barrister Ugochukwu Ezekiel has had his cars stolen twice.
“My first vehicle was stolen in Zone 4, in front of the Civil Service Commission,” he said.
“I parked it opposite the Customs office and went in with someone. When we came back, the car had disappeared.”
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He said everything inside the vehicle was taken, including sensitive court materials.
“The police later suggested it might have been connected to a case I was handling. That someone traced me. But nothing was ever confirmed. The car was never recovered.”
Years later, it happened again.
“My second car, a Corolla, was stolen in 2024 in front of my compound in Kubwa,” he said.
“I woke up around 4 a.m., cleaned the car and parked it outside. There were other vehicles there, and security men were around. One of them even sat on the boot of my car.”
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Moments later, both the security guard and the car were gone.
“We arrested some of them and took them to the police. They were transferred to the police CID, but nothing came out of it,” he said, adding that, “Once your car is stolen, just prepare your mind. It is almost gone.”
Dr. Chinedu John, another resident, recalled losing his car during a routine court appearance.
“It was June 22, 2016. I went to the Magistrate’s Court in Zone 2. I parked outside and went in for my matter. In less than two hours, the car was gone.”
At first, he doubted himself.
“You even ask yourself, are you sure you parked here? But I was very sure.”
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The vehicle, a blue Honda CRV, was never recovered.
“What discouraged me was what the police officer said. He told me they usually steal cars in that area. That was when I lost hope,” he said.
Takon Benard Esise, a cryptocurrency trader, also narrated how he lost his Toyota Camry.
“I reported immediately,” he said.
“They took my details and said they would circulate the information, but the follow-up told a different story.
“The officer handling my case was slow. I kept calling and going back, but nothing happened. At some point, I just gave up.”
A realtor, Luka Abdullahi, said his aunt’s car was stolen in Wuse Market.
“When she came back and didn’t see it, she started screaming. People had to calm her down,” he said.
Despite reporting the case, there was no recovery. “Nothing came out of it,” he said.
A journalist, Onuba Ezikel, said his experience showed how complicated reporting car theft cases can become.
“I lost my car in 2011 during an assignment at the Central Bank. We parked outside, went in briefly, and when we came back, the car was gone,” he said.
The journalist received a call days later that the vehicle had been found in Minna.
“What they showed me was not my car, but everything inside it was mine. My bag, my documents, even my air freshener,” he stated.
“They started treating me like a suspect because my belongings were found in another stolen car.”
He said his police report and prior publication of the theft saved him.
“I spent money following leads, fueling police movement, but the car was never recovered.
“In Abuja, you are responsible for your own security. If a car can be stolen in front of the Central Bank, then nowhere is truly safe.”
Data on car theft in the FCT is scarce, but accounts of victims reveal it is carried out by sophisticated criminal networks. The stolen vehicles are often spirited out of the city or dismantled for parts within hours or days.
The burden of recovering stolen vehicles often shift to the owners. Some residents rely on trackers, steering locks and private guards to protect their vehicles, though such measures are not foolproof against determined thieves.