I spent five days in a kidnappers' den, and there are nights I still wake up believing I'm back in that forest. My name is Amaka. I was travelling from Benin towards Lagos after visiting family when gunmen suddenly blocked our vehicle. At first, I thought it was a robbery. Then one shouted, "Everybody into the bush!" They collected our phones, marched us deep into the forest and demanded millions of naira from our families. That first night, I slept on bare ground. Mosquitoes and insects crawled over me, but I was too terrified to move. We barely ate. By the third day, I was so thirsty that when they brought dirty water, I drank it without thinking. The worst moments came whenever ransom negotiations went badly. They would threaten us, then call our relatives so they could hear us begging. "Mummy, please find the money," I cried during one call. I hated myself for saying it because I knew my family didn't have that kind of money. On the fifth night, everything suddenly changed. "Stand up. You're leaving." I thought they were taking me somewhere to kill me. Instead, after walking through the forest for what felt like hours, they pointed towards a distant road. "Go." I ran until my legs gave up. Five days earlier, I'd worried about bills, work and relationships. Standing beside that road barefoot and exhausted, I wanted only one thing. To see my family again. I survived those five days. But part of me never completely left that forest.