On an ordinary morning in Badagry, Lagos State, Ajovi Noah stepped out of his modest home in Itoga to meet a business associate. It was January 15, 2016, a date now etched in his heart like an old scar. When he returned hours later, the house was eerily silent. His wife, Ganogbe Yeyinu Abigail, and their three-year-old daughter, Ajovi Yenukunme Joy, were gone. No note. No goodbye. Just the hollow ache of absence.

Ten years have passed since that day, but for Ajovi, time has stood still.

“My life froze the moment I realized they were gone,” he says quietly, his voice trembling with a decade’s worth of grief. “I’ve searched everywhere. I’ve knocked on doors, begged strangers, followed rumors, anything to find them. But nothing.”

Today, Ajovi is not just a man looking for answers. He’s a father desperate to see his daughter again.

Abigail’s disappearance wasn’t sudden in the traditional sense. There were warning signs, subtle shifts in her behavior, unexplained absences, and growing emotional distance. Ajovi recounts that Abigail had left their home twice before.

“The first time was in January 2015. She stayed with our daughter’s schoolteacher for weeks,” he recalls. “Her family helped bring her back. We thought it was over. But within months, she left again. She returned briefly in December 2015, and I thought we were rebuilding. But it lasted just 10 days.”

On that fateful January day, she left with more than just their daughter. She took some personal belongings, Ajovi’s work tablet, and money from his drawer.

“I didn’t even care about the money or the tablet. I just wanted my daughter back,” Ajovi whispers, his eyes clouded with pain.

As he pieced together the puzzle of Abigail’s disappearance, one name kept resurfacing, his daughter’s schoolteacher.

“Abigail spent hours at the school even after dropping Joy off. When I asked about it, she became defensive. Eventually, she moved in with the teacher for a while,” he explains.

Ajovi suspects the teacher’s influence may have played a role in Abigail’s decision to leave.

“She claimed to be a seer, saying things about visions and spirits. Abigail believed her. I tried to convince my wife to stay grounded, to focus on her faith, but it was like talking to a stranger,” he adds, shaking his head in disbelief.

Abigail’s father, Ganogbe Noah, has his own share of heartbreak. He speaks softly, his voice weighed down by years of unanswered questions.

“It’s been ten years. Ten years since I saw my daughter’s face,” he says. “We thought it was just a misunderstanding between her and her husband. We never imagined she’d vanish.”

He recalls the last family gathering before she disappeared.

“We had a small celebration. She smiled, laughed, it felt normal. I didn’t know it was the last time I’d see her,” he says, his voice breaking.

Over the years, rumors have swirled, accusations that he helped his daughter escape, whispers of another man.

“People say terrible things, but I have nothing to hide. I just want my daughter and granddaughter home,” he says firmly.

For a decade, Ajovi lived in hope, clinging to the belief that his wife would return. That his daughter would walk through the door, her voice calling out, “Daddy.”

“We thought she’d come back,” he admits. “Her family kept saying she might be with her mother in Benin Republic. I even traveled there, searching. But it was all dead ends.”

So why speak out now?

“Because hope without action is just waiting,” Ajovi says. “I can’t wait anymore. I need to find my daughter, whether Abigail is alive or not. I need to know.”

My story isn’t just about a missing wife and child, it’s about the gaping hole left in my heart .”

“I dream about her. I wonder if she remembers me. If she’s safe. If she knows her father never stopped looking for her,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Now, he’s turning to the public, hoping that someone, somewhere, knows something.

“Maybe she’s out there. Maybe someone has seen her. All I ask is for any information that can help me find my daughter,” he pleads.

Anyone with information about Abigail Yeyinu Ganogbe and Ajovi Yenukunme Joy is urged to contact the nearest police station or reach out to Ajovi Noah directly.

For Ajovi, this isn’t just a search, it’s a father’s fight to reclaim a piece of his heart lost to time.

“I just want to see my daughter again,” he says softly. “That’s all I ask.”

The mysterious disappearance of woman, 3 year old daughter

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