How Eiye Confraternity Runs Biggest Trans-Atlantic Prostitution Ring In Europe

It’s 08:00 in the Catalan Police Headquarters on
the outskirts of Barcelona and Xavi Cortes,
head of the anti-trafficking unit, waits patiently
for his 22 teams to confirm they are in position.
Finally, he gives the order.
Two-hundred-and-
fifty officers quietly climb out of their police
vans. Single file, each team approaches a
residential building watched by a few surprised
neighbours. On reaching the door, one of the
masked police officers uses his fingers to count
down.
Three, two, one. The door is knocked down, the
silence shattered, the officers rush inside. The
raid results in the arrest of the leaders of a
Nigerian-based group running an international
sex-trafficking ring in Barcelona. It’s known as
the Supreme Eiye Confraternity (SEC), or the Air
Lords, and 23 people are now behind bars, with
European Arrest Warrants issued for those who
have left the country.

Eiye in Yoruba, the main language of south-
western Nigeria means “bird”. The group’s
insignia is an eagle and each city containing
members is called a “nest”, with the “mother
nest” in Ibadan.. The group was started at the
University of Ibadan in the 1970s, and the
original intention was to make a positive
contribution to society. Over time, however,
many members went astray, committing
violence in Nigeria and delving into crime
abroad. The group now traffics human beings
and narcotics (cocaine and marijuana) and
forges passports. It has also facilitated the
transport of stolen crude oil into Europe. “They
are able to earn money in many ways, but we
are focused on human-trafficking and the
victims,” says Cortes. His second-in-command,
Alex Escola, then tells me something
remarkable. “You know, one of the tappings
showed us that last year, on 7 July, around 400
members of SEC met in Geneva. They had a big
meeting, all together.” It was an audacious
display of arrogance. In a city where many of
the world’s global institutions are
headquartered, including numerous UN
agencies, a global criminal institution held its
own parallel international gathering and no-one
tried to stop it.

Benin City, Nigeria, is a human-trafficking hub,

and a good place to observe how the criminal

operation works. After long negotiations, our

team manages to speak to a recruiter, whose

job it is to find girls. The recruiter explains that

they either approach girls directly or through

their families offering fake jobs abroad in a

supermarket, or as a cleaner. However, not

everyone is tricked. Many women approach the

recruiters themselves, often in full knowledge

that they will be working as a prostitute in

Europe. Some parents, also aware of this,

approach recruiters on behalf of their children.

Destiny, who was 19 when she was trafficked

to Spain three years ago, told me she knew sex

would be involved but had never imagined she

would be turned into a sex slave. “If you live in

Benin, there are many girls who came back

from [Spain] with lots of money. They told us

they had to have sex sometimes,” she says.

“We are not stupid but I did not know I would be

beaten and raped and have to have sex every

night of the week.” NGOs in Benin City say

many of the recruiters now look outside the

major cities in order to find girls who have not

heard their warnings about the reality of life for

trafficked women, or the stories of those like

Destiny who have returned and are now alerting

others to the dangers. Once recruited, the girls

are then taken to Lagos or to northern Nigeria

where they are picked up by men known as

“coyotes” or “trolleys”.

The journey to Europe is perilous. Wire taps

reveal how coyotes transporting women were

stopped by armed groups in the deserts of

Niger or southern Libya demanding thousands

of euros for them to pass.