I didn't set out to be a hero, or the most wanted man in the world. We got kidnapped halfway into our trip by the same terrorist group that kidnapped some U.N., and American Aid workers in the northeast weeks earlier.

All 49 of us must pay a ransom each. Anyone who falls short will lose his kidney and other vital internal organs; then their dead body will be dumped in this desolate and vulture-infested farmland where they brought us.

Brad, an American, initially thought to be Lebanese, and the only foreigner amongst us, puts his life on the line to face-off with our captors; but it didn't end well. I tried to defend Linda, my co-passenger, but they sent me into a coma.

Amongst the portable devices seized from us, one was found which boldly suggest that its owner knows their leader. Utterly shaken, they decided they'd raise the dead, and kill the living until they identify the owner of the device.

It's already dead in the night with a bloody and chaotic scene. As they commenced this second round of horror, a few of us, scattered at unmanned corners, crawled into deeper darkness and fled. But by morning they had combed the jungle and recaptured some.

Fate's at work: me and the American meet in the jungle. I was shocked when I realised that this wildlife photographer-looking man is actually a wild beast.

He's a member of a secret US Special Force on a rescue mission of the kidnapped Aid workers in northeast. He's actually on reconnaissance; and I'm the guy who owns that mystery portable device.

He begs me to stay alive: I'm too naive, too injured and weak to tag with him in the jungle which is already infested by those looking for me. He's Caucasian and thus can't hide his white skin enough in public.

He gives me names of towns and villages, and a cursory oral map on how to navigate through them to Jebba-Mokwa bridge. Across the bridge, he assures, salvation will be waiting for me

It's been one escape too many within a five-day-and-night continuous chase, and an inexplicable loss of foot soldiers.The militant hierarchy is frustrated; but they unleash a hundred more foot soldiers after me.

Parts of towns and villages have been burnt down. Anyone remotely linked to my escape is quickly eliminated. But Brad, the American, now named 'Rambo' by villagers, is warring against them in the jungle down to their camps.

Stories of a defiant hero have percolated from around to Abuja, the Federal Capital. Now, an elated president has sent military commandos on a mission to bring me safely to him if I make it across the bridge.

I owe my life to Caleb, and Angelina. They're fugitives trapped in this Boko Haram-ruled sin city which they seized from Niger State. They're putting their lives on the line to help me get to Jebba-Mokwa bridge, and they intend to tag with me all the way to Abuja; to also atone for their crime, and probably get a presidential pardon.

My name is Ben; and I'm just an architect. I was only travelling to meet my future inlaws in preparation for my upcoming wedding which, with many secrets now revealed, may never hold.

The Jebba river has the highest concentration of Hippos and Crocs in Nigeria. We maintained a watchful distance as we followed the river path precariously all night.

My half dead body and spirit sprouted back to life when we got a hundred kilometres near the bridge. Also, we heard that the American had crossed it the night before. He and his team are now prepared for the ultimate battle just to receive me if I make it across the bridge.

But my joy soon got ominously ruptured. The militants have finally decoded the trajectory of our...