Driver Vanishes After Killing Pregnant Woman And 7 Others — Victims’ Families Cry For Justice!
It was meant to be a day of celebration. As families across Nigeria marked the sacred Eid-el-Kabir holiday, a gathering of joy turned into one of the darkest evenings in Kaduna’s recent history. Eight members of a single family—women, children, an expectant mother—were wiped out in a moment, not by a terrorist bomb or a natural disaster, but by a speeding vehicle on the Kaduna-Zaria highway.
This isn’t just another accident story. It is a haunting reflection of a broken system, failed governance, and the dangerous cost of impunity.
A Gathering Shattered by Speed and Silence
On June 9, in the Barakallahu area of Kaduna, a Mercedes GLK SUV, allegedly driven by a young boy from a politically connected family in Rigachikun, lost control during a heavy rain and crashed into pedestrians. The victims were roadside bystanders—mothers and children returning from their grandmother’s home after the Eid celebration.
Among the dead were Khadija Umar, her two sons aged 16 and 9, her sisters, their aunt, and Zainab Muhammad, an 8-month pregnant woman carrying twins already named Hassan and Hussaini. Zainab’s 6-year-old son, Khalid, also sustained horrific injuries.
Their husbands—Malam Jamilu Usman Mai Yadi and Sulaiman Abdulkadir Mai Shinkafa—are now left picking up the pieces of lives destroyed not just by a careless act, but by a system that’s seemingly incapable of holding anyone accountable.
A Familiar Pattern: The Culture of Escape and Elite Impunity
The narrative is too familiar. An elite child behind the wheel. A powerful father in the shadows. An accident. A flight from justice. Then: silence. No condolences, no arrest, not even acknowledgment.
The driver of the GLK jeep fled the scene. Witnesses claim his father is a well-known political figure in the region. Yet neither he nor any representative has reached out to the victims’ families. Not a phone call. Not a visit. Not even a whisper of responsibility.
This isn’t just a story of personal tragedy—it’s a national indictment.
Where Are the Institutions?
The Federal Road Safety Corps (FRSC) acted swiftly—confirming overspeeding, slippery roads, and recklessness. The vehicle was recovered. Injured victims were rushed to the hospital. But after that, the baton was passed to the Nigerian Police Force.
So far, the police have issued no statement. Attempts by reporters to reach Kaduna Police PRO DSP Mansir Hassan failed. The Kaduna State Government has also maintained complete silence.
The vacuum left by authorities is as loud as the grief now echoing in Sabon Gari and Hayin Rigasa. What value does the Nigerian state place on the lives of ordinary people? Especially when the accused is politically protected?
Voices from the Shadows of Grief
“We lost eight members of our family that evening,” said Malam Jamilu Mai Yadi, his voice heavy with pain. “Ten were hit. Two are still in the hospital.”
His grief is shared by Sulaiman Mai Shinkafa, whose unborn twins and son were among the victims. “We had to gather their remains using planks,” he recalled, holding back tears.
They are not just mourning the loss of lives—they are mourning the absence of justice, the coldness of power, and the unbearable silence of those responsible.
Why This Tragedy Must Not Be Forgotten
This was no ordinary accident. It’s a mirror to the state of our roads, our values, and our leadership. When powerful families can disappear into the shadows after causing such loss, when law enforcement can vanish when they are most needed, and when the government can ignore its own grieving citizens—then something is deeply broken.
The people of Barakallahu gathered in prayer that night, led by Imam Rabiu, asking Allah to forgive the dead. But what they also want—and deserve—is action.
Justice. Accountability. A clear message that no one is above the law.
Final Thoughts: A Nation in Mourning Deserves More Than Silence
In the coming days, the headlines will move on. But for families like Mai Yadi’s and Shinkafa’s, the pain remains—etched into their homes, their dreams, their very breath.
The least they deserve is recognition, accountability, and empathy. As citizens, we must keep their story alive—not out of pity, but out of duty.
Because when we stop demanding justice, we allow injustice to become tradition.
🕯️ In memory of the eight who died in Barakallahu, and for all families who have suffered silently under the weight of unchecked power. May your cries be heard. May justice find you.
