A Fish Taken In An Evil Net Print E-mail
Written by Ronke Macaulay   
Wednesday, 05 March 2008

The figure was extremely emaciated, filthy, in tattered clothes. It was seated upright, its lips were moving feebly: it was alive, but barely so. I drove past slowly, unable to believe my eyes. I stopped the car in front of a random gate, and jumped out, uncertain what I was about to do, but simply aware that I had to do something immediately.

I crossed the street to the spot where the man half sat, half lay, arm outstretched as if in supplication. A foul stench rose from his body, although he had no visible wounds. He was elderly, he looked at me wordlessly. His eyes spoke of such depth of pain that tears sprang up in mine. Someone had placed tyres around him so that passing cars would be alerted to his presence and would not run him over. Otherwise – on a sunny afternoon on a busy Surulere street just last Saturday – he might as well have been invisible.  I called out to him, “Baba, Baba”, as though willing him to hang on to life and hope. His whole body shook.

Stumbling slightly, I made my way to the nearest kiosk and bought some bread and sachets of pure water. The man recognised me as I approached him. He tried to speak but only bubbles of saliva emerged. His wizened hand trembled but managed to hold the sachet of water to his lips.  As I stood there still perplexed that this could be happening, other people drew near us. One tall man with a newspaper under his arm crouched down and tried to feed pieces of bread to the man. A young woman in stretch jeans explained that Baba had been lying in the street since the previous day, and had told them he had come to Lagos from Abeokuta in search of his children but had been unable to trace them.

This was a sane man. Someone’s father, from the same hometown as my own dad. And here he in lay in the sun, clearly dying, with nobody able to come to his aid. Unsure what to do, I asked the tall man who still was tending Baba his opinion. 

“Council go dey closed today. Maybe police fit help.”

I made up my mind in an instant. “Which police station dey for this side?”

A small crowd had gathered. Someone asked if I knew the man. I shook my head. My conscience told me that if I had known him, I would have put him in my car and taken him to the nearest hospital, but I was not about to go that far.

As I drove to the Police station my mood lightened. Once I reported the matter to the Police they would take over and remove Baba from the streets. He would get medical attention. He would cease to be a nameless, wretched creature causing a nuisance to decent people and reminding them of both our mortality and our monumental selfishness. 

On arrival I told my story briefly and without drama. The police sergeant listened sympathetically and then shook his head.

“Madam, there’s nothing we can do for you here. That street comes under another station. You will have to go there and report this matter.”

Knowing there was no possibility of the Police making a telephone call to their colleagues, or sending an officer to deliver the message, I left without further ado.

The streets were traffic free as I drove on to Police station number 2. As I parked outside, my heart sank. The environment was hostile – building rubble littered the unkempt yard. There were groups of fierce-looking uniformed men in black, armed to the teeth as though expecting imminent attack. I entered the building and once again told my story.  The sergeant commended me for being a Good Samaritan and for working with the Police. He directed me to an office round the back of the building. I heard the words “Crime Inspector” with some surprise. Why was I being sent to him? As I told my story yet again to a group of tough looking men, the reaction was one of keen interest. One man questioned me as to whether there was any evidence of gunshot wounds, or other injury that could have been sustained during an armed robbery or other crime. I began to understand why passers by would choose not to get involved with strangers in distress in Lagos.

I explained as fully and politely as I could that the man was old, ill and frail, and observed as the interest ebbed away.

“Police can’t do this type of work. We deal only with serious crime. Go to the Lasambus people.”

“Where can I find them?”

“Maryland/ Anthony, under the flyover.”

Only the thought of abandoning Baba to his fate in the dirty street spurred me on. I told myself I couldn’t give up at this stage without seeing through what I had started, although I was now very late for an important appointment and unsure whether I was being sent on another fruitless quest.

At Maryland I appealed for directions from a Lastma Official, who proved helpful in getting my car safely across the traffic on the Express towards the site where the ambulance was parked. The emergency medical staff were understanding as I explained my mission. (Their attitude was a huge improvement on the last ambulance man I had cause to deal with at Heathrow airport in London, but that is a story for another day.)  Alas, once again, I had strayed outside my territory. They were not mandated to go as far as Surulere, and told me the Police should have directed me to their colleagues at Stadium. My heart sank – why was I going around in circles while Baba was left unattended and probably sinking fast?

The fighting spirit quickly resurfaced as I pleaded with them to do something to help urgently. One woman looked at me and said, “O.K. I’m going to do something I’m not supposed to. Here’s the telephone number for our control room. If you call them and tell them the patient’s location, they will send an ambulance to pick him up.” Control was brief and professional. There was one sticky moment when the voice enquired if the patient appeared to be “a destitute” and I hesitated. If by that he meant dirty, starving and living on the streets – Baba certainly was.  Yet I understood that he might not get rescued if it was felt that nobody would vouch for him, and he would have no home to go to after treatment. “I don’t think so,” I said. 

After hearing Control radio the local ambulance to attend to the patient, and exchanging a few pleasantries with the ambulance staff – who refused to accept any money from me – I took my leave.

However, there is no happy ending. A couple of hours later I called Control for an update and was told that on arrival they found Baba had died on the same spot where I left him barely two hours before.

I hope his soul finds the peace that eluded him in his final days and may God forgive us all for doing too little, too late.

Ecc 9:12 - ”For man also knoweth not his time: as the fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds that are caught in the snare; so are the sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them.”





RobotRobot is offline 
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 # 1

The
figure was extremely emaciated, filthy, in tattered clothes. It was
seated upright, its lip...Read the full article.

Posted by Robot| 05.03.2008 10:56

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uchebushuchebush is offline 
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 # 2

Sad. VERY sad. So VERY sad.

Uche Ohia

Posted by uchebush| 05.03.2008 11:49

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pappilopappilo is offline 
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 # 3

Mrs macaulay, I dont know how you do it but you do it. How do you find the time to make a living in such a wicked city but yet are still able to carry out these humanitarian activities of yours. You are indeed a real woman. In this case I would have been no better than our useless politicians as I would have walked on and just shook my head in pity for the old man. I wonder why people like yourself are not the ones we have as leaders in this country.

I pray God grants the old man eternal rest.

Posted by pappilo| 05.03.2008 13:18

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Shoko Loko BangosheShoko Loko Bangoshe is offline 
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 # 4

Ronke,

Thanks for a great story. Even though it had a sad ending, I'm truly impressed at the passion that drove you to do what you did to get help.

It's also interesting to see how the law enforcement agencies respond to these kinds of situations; they may not have been as helpful as you would have liked, but they are actually quite human - not necessarily the evil-hearted people they are portrayed to be.

Shoko

Posted by Shoko Loko Bangoshe| 05.03.2008 13:41

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emjemj is offline 
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 # 5


Ecc 9:12 - ”For man also knoweth not his time: as the fishes that are taken in an evil net, and as the birds that are caught in the snare; so are the sons of men snared in an evil time, when it falleth suddenly upon them.”



Ronke, well done.....people most likely passed by him without stopping cos of the Tire round his neck....some must think that he has done something wrong....dat being said, if u had not stopped to help, the other fellows wouldn't have either....the lord reward u for ur labor of love.....Lasambu....hmmm.

I use to go to the Old People's home(YABA..not far from QC) every weekend and at times every other weekend when i was resident in Nigeria.....my driver even at times have had to go on errands there to drop some items of need like Charcoal(for cooking their meals), water, bread from the Bakery, eggs etc etc....i also belong to a women group who go once a while to give them new blankets and other items, and also make sure that we buy and give some things to those who take care of them.....i remember being inquisitive enough to ask about how the old men and women got there.......u won't believe that some children actually took their old people there, and some are from other sources.

PS>>>>>a situation whereby we neglect our aged parents, then wait till they are dead to kill several Cows and close road, then take full page advert..obituary...May his Soul find rest..Amen...hmm

Posted by emj| 05.03.2008 14:43

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okenikpotookenikpoto is offline 
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 # 6

Ronke,

I want to let you know that I was inspired; moved and amazed at you and this story. You tried your best but God did what was best for Baba.

It was really nice meeting you yesterday at the Baby Andrew presentation; I will attest to your resilience, all the phone calls to know the state of things. People like you are what we need in some of these seats occupied by the Patricia Ettehs and the Iyabo Obasanjos.

God bless you.

Posted by okenikpoto| 05.03.2008 15:57

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Ofunwa VillagerOfunwa Villager is offline 
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 # 7

God bless you Ronke, you are simply an Angel.

Posted by Ofunwa Villager| 05.03.2008 16:05

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Atomic KittenAtomic Kitten is offline 
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 # 8

Ronke,

I commend your efforts. We often speak of being our brother’s keeper but fail to act when a situation presents the challenge or opportunity.
It takes someone who truly has the milk of human kindness and the fear of God to take the action that you did. God bless you.

It is a sad thought that the fabric of our culture has degenerated so much that we appear to have little respect for the dignity of life. Had you not made the effort you did, he would have died without the expression of love and care you showed in his dying moments.

Well done.

Posted by Atomic Kitten| 05.03.2008 16:10

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ajis15ajis15 is offline 
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 # 9

Madam:

What a misery, what a country. You tried your best, and as Yorubas will pray: "Olorun a se ninu ise tie" That is, God will take care of you while you spend time taking care of others. It a shame; the system that is suppose to complement you to save a life failed. Please do not be discouraged from doing good. God bless you.

Posted by ajis15| 05.03.2008 16:30

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purplepurple is offline 
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 # 10

Mrs Macaulay,

Thank you for your leadership. You are a wonderful example to all Nigerians. May your own family members get timely help in their own time of need. I read a story similar to your recently and will post it below.

Source: http://www.postcardfromlagos.blogspot.com/

Thursday 7th February, on our way back to Lagos from a meeting with the rather impressive Titi Oseni, Speaker of the Ogun State House of Assembly, we happened on an accident on the Ibadan-Lagos motorway. Traffic had built up on that side of the road, about 15 vehicles had stopped by the site of the accident, and about 50 people were also in attendance, so we drove past. After another 150 metres, I decided we stopped to assist with the rescue work. So we worked back the 150 metres to what can only be expressed as carnage.

A light passenger bus carrying 18 people had collided with a Peugeot 504 Estate, it appeared that some were dead and others had varying degree of injuries - from those in shock to those who were seriously wounded and unconscious including two babies; a four-month and a 10-month old respectively.

In fairness to the people already at the scene, some of them had pulled the accident victims from the wreckage; however, the vast majority were spectating, genuinely sorry for the victim, genuinely helpless but hampering rescue work by their shouting and general rowdiness. I knew time was of the essence if more people were to be saved so with a few other people and Road Safety Officers who had now come to the scene, we started appealing to passing motorists (large trucks really) to stop and get the victims to hospital quickly. Eventually the driver of a gari-carrying truck stopped. About seven victims were quickly loaded to the back of the open truck on top of gari bags. The rest went on the back of the Road Safety pick-up van.

I asked the lead Road Safety Officer which hospital they were being taken, he replied Sagamu. Then he did a double take and said the doctors at the Sagamu hospital were on strike. I suggested we go to Lagos, he replied he didn't know any hospital in Lagos except I lead them. I agreed, though I didn’t know how to get to any hospital in Lagos too. So we ran to our car 150 metres ahead to form a convoy of three vehicles. In the car, my wife and I started to phone our friends to ask for directions to the nearest hospital in Lagos.

Driving at a fairly high speed, we were in Lagos within 20 minutes. We now had to confront the ‘small’ issue of Lagos traffic. We devised a means around this; at traffic lights or any hold-up, the Road Safety vehicle with siren blaring will come to the front and lead us out after which we take the lead again.

We eventually arrived at the Ikeja General Hospital at about 5pm. There was only one doctor on duty at the emergency ward. He was visibly tired too. By this time, we had lost one of the women in the back of the Road Safety vehicle. She was the mother of one of the babies and her husband who was also brought to hospital was slipping in and out of consciousness.

One of the babies was given an oxygen mask because he was not breathing on arrival. By the time we left, we were told he had yanked it off. So he's good. The Doctor suggested we take one lady who was really bad and foaming from her mouth to LUTH, a teaching hospital, I asked for an ambulance and was told to go the next building. There I learnt the lady in charge - a doctor had gone to the ground floor, when I saw her, she said their drivers were on training and that they close at 6pm. When my wife asked her why they close at 6pm, she replied "do you want to kill them". My wife asked her if she had ever heard of a rota system.

She pointed at five or so swanky new ambulances parked in front of the block explaining the great strides they had made, I pointed at the dead woman at the back of the truck saying she should tell her how good her department and the government were. It was getting heated, we made up and I suggested to her that as head of that unit, she has a God-given responsibility to devise a way of making it work.

At the scene, was a member of the Lagos State House of Assembly who must have come to see a patient. We spoke about having more ambulances on the roads particularly the Lagos-Ibadan motorway which is notorious for accidents.

Back to the doctor, he was busy treating those with minor injuries at the back of the truck and insisted we take the unconscious lady to LUTH. A nurse that was passing by said to him as a matter of fact, "why don't you stabilise her first, if not, she will die on the way". He responded angrily "don't teach me my job". I begged him, he relented, we were later told that the lady was stable, and we never had to go to LUTH. There was no way we could have gone anyhow.

The Road Safety Officers were becoming restless, they wanted to deposit the dead woman's body in the mortuary and go back to Abeokuta as it was getting dark. They needed the doctor's certification before they could do so. He was busy, they were restless; another drama ensued, and the doctor walked one of the Road Safety Officers out of the ward.

The Road Safety Officers asked me for money for fuel as they were low and had ventured out of their usual area of operation. I offered to give them 2000 Naira or more for fuel, they replied they only needed 500 Naira. I offered to buy water for them, they politely declined. Off they went on their way, two men and a woman into the night, back to Abeokuta. They were genuine men and woman, I truly respect their gallantry. They are the heroes of Nigeria. I am really proud to know and to work alongside them.

On Monday 18th February 2008 the news filtered in that the Director of Public Relations for the Nigerian Army, Brig. General Solomon Giwa-Amu had died in (you know what) a motor accident along the Abuja-Kaduna motorway. Yet another loss. He was a very fine Officer.

A few lessons
1. In Nigeria, never assume that people at a scene are actually doing anything. Many people are helpless and neither have the means or knowhow for things like this. Majority have simply given up hope.

2. We need people who have had some exposure in the outside world to come back home and help develop the country particularly those with organisational skills.

3. I was assured by the Road Safety Officers and a Police Officer present at the scene, that the widespread belief that you could be in trouble of the police if you stop to help accident victims is not entirely true. I can’t guarantee this assertion, but at the point at which we got involved with the accident victims, our thoughts were focused on helping the victims and not on whether the police will harass us. In the event, we did not have to complete a form or anything.

4. In the event of an accident on the Lagos-Ibadan motorway, the number for the Sagamu Road Safety Corps office as passed to us by one of their officers is 0803 438 8583.

5. There are many heroes in Nigeria - the Road Safety Officers led by Hakeem, the people who got the victims from the wreckage, the doctor who had to cope with 14 wounded victims, the nurses supporting him, the member of the Lagos State House of Assembly (Adekunle Ademoye) who bought diapers with his money for one of the babies. Not to forget the driver of the gari truck who showed a great act of kindness and saved lives.PostCardfromLagos

Posted by purple| 05.03.2008 21:31

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Last Updated ( Thursday, 24 April 2008 )
 
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