Peoples Daily Weekend encountered Osato as she is fondly called, at the 10th year anniversary of Kapital FM, where an anonymous philanthropist had used the platform to donate another N2million to widows gathered within Abuja.
This intervention wouldn’t have reached Osato who roams the street
of Abuja with her children without a roof over their heads, and takes
solace in parks and Christian convention venues to lay her head at
night. She was however able to know about the good gesture, thanks to
her old worn transistor radio which is her only link to social life.
On hearing about the donation that was going to be made to widows,
she rushed to the venue. Not knowing that this writer is a journalist,
she approached her and asked where the list of beneficiaries was. It was
immediately suspected that her case was different from the rest of the
widows, who definitely had the grace to wear their best outfit and had
been despite all odds able to feed their selves and the children they
left at home.
However, Osato was not disconcerted; she was breathing heavily which gave the hint that she was not medically fit.
Though she was shown how she could get enlisted but she was already late for the full package,
she had to make do with half. She told Peoples Daily Weekend that in
her condition, a quarter or any amount will be appreciated by her as she
was not even expecting any good to come her way again.
This statement prompted our reporter to further urge her to tell
her story which she relayed in fluent English, but with tears streaming
down her cheeks.
Her story
I was living at Jikwoyi phase 4, Dagbana near Catholic Church in
Jikwoyi. All of a sudden, I lost my husband. Then there was the
demolition exercise in the area. I was not at home when they did it, my
neighbours phoned me and when I came they said a woman claimed she owned
the place. In fact the case is in court between people that own the
place and the woman.
When I came, I saw that most of my properties were vandalized by
Babbanboola(waste disposers) though my neighbours helped me packed some.
Since then I have had no place to sleep; I started moving around with my baby which I had after my husband’s death. My husband had died before the demolition incidence. Iwas moving
around with my three children in tow but the baby died; she could not
survive the malaria and cold she was exposed to. I was taking her from
one hospital to another but she didn’t make it. I took the other two to
the village after her death.
By that time, I had spent all the money
I had on her illness. I was selling foodstuff (gari, palm oil etc). I
used to go to the village to buy those things to sell. I was selling
both wholesale and retail.
The death of the baby, loss of job and capital, loss of roof over
my head and the absence of my husband who was supposed to stand by me,
all these led to high blood pressure
for me. My B.P. rose even to almost 300. I even had partial stroke but I
was able to survive it. Since then I’ve not had a place to sleep; I
just hang around at places; wherever there is night vigil, I go there to
stay; I stay at motor parks and places like that.
I cannot really stay in the village because I was not like this
before, I was better off, I was a police officer before I was dismissed
from duty on the basis that I was absent from work.
My boss personally defaulted me, tried me which is actually against the ethics of the job
even if I was guilty, I pleaded with him but he wouldn’t listen. The
reason I was absent from duty was due to an accident I had, and I went
and showed him my injury, he said I should go and treat myself only for
him to accuse me of being absent from duty afterwards.
He picked on me because he had previous problem with me; he
insisted that I should be tried. I requested for a neutral body to try
me as the ethics demand.
Despite having all the proof of not being guilty, he went ahead and
recommended me for dismissal. I wrote an appeal through him because he
was my direct boss. He withheld the appeal, instead of giving it to the
C.P. It was after everything had happened that people started telling
me I should have sent an advance copy to the C.P. I didn’t know because I
have never been involved in such crisis before.
It was after this that I knew the whole procedure so I wrote an
appeal to force headquarters three times; unknown to me that, he had a
squad mate there that was hijacking the appeal. There was a time one of
my former bosses came to police headquarters, he saw me roaming around
and asked me what the matter was. I told him everything and he took me
before the O.C provost who sent for the officer.
The squad mate sent a
message that he was not on duty which was a lie because I saw him few
days before that day. He was even making jest of me calling me a
civilian. I went to his squad mate and asked why he said the man was not
on duty. He said, why would he want his friend dismissed? That didn’t I
know they are squad mates? He said I should go and do my worst; he
would not present his friend for trial.
I continued to go but eventually, my file was declared missing and
it became a matter of ‘who do you know?’ since I didn’t know anybody
there, there was nothing I could do. He even suggested I slept with him
or give him money but I declined both options and that was the end of my career as a police officer which was when I was about getting promoted to a corporal.
I sold my land in the village which I used to start the raw food business which later collapsed due to the demolition and the illness of my baby and her eventual death.
To make ends meet. I pick empty water containers, empty malt cans
which I break and sell at N40 per kilo. Some will collect 28/30 of 75cl
water bottle container from me for N100
.
This is how I have been surviving and managing to look after my children.
If they give me this money, supposing it will be enough to rent a house,
I will love to sleep in a house again and if it will be enough for me
to do the business I was doing before, I will like to continue with the
business since I don’t know how much, whatever it is enough for me to
do, I will do it.
My B.P is always rising, the doctor at the last hospital I went to
in Nyanyan where I was even admitted always tell me to take my medicines
but I can’t afford to buy it. He said I should be staying at places
where I will not be thinking because of the partial stroke I had so I
try to look for how to make myself happy but it’s not that.
Post a Comment