Ilorin-based biker, Emmanuel Enya, speaks about his encounter with a heavily pregnant woman at Ojota, Lagos, who went into labour and delivered a baby he later resuscitated.
Excerpts:
Can you describe how you first encountered the pregnant woman at Ojota, Lagos?
I think it was on the first Saturday of this month. I was coming to Lagos from Ilorin, Kwara State, for two job interviews—one was in Surulere and the other in Ikoyi. I first went to see one of my former clients, who asked me to stop by his site in Sagamu. We had a long meeting, and I had to tell him I was going to Lagos.
It was raining, and I rode my bike in that rain from Sagamu to Berger. But when I reached Berger and began approaching Ojota, the rain stopped, so I increased my speed.
Around Ojota, on the way to Maryland, I first noticed someone standing awkwardly by the roadside, but I brushed it off as one of the street thugs in Lagos. There was traffic building up around Maryland, so I parked my bike and looked through my side mirror and then saw the same person again. This time, she was looking in my direction.
So, I turned my bike against traffic and managed to get to her. When I got to her, her speech was incoherent. She kept telling me, “Ikorodu General Hospital,” but I couldn’t connect the dots. So, I asked the guys around, and they answered me in Yoruba that she was mentally ill.
Though I could sense that she was in pain, I didn’t know she was pregnant because she wore an oversized gown that hid the size of her tummy. I asked her, ‘Madam, how can I help you?’ She kept saying, ‘Ikorodu’, so I told her we would cross to the other side of the road so she could find a bus going to Ikorodu.
As she moved her legs, she screamed in pain, and it seemed unbearable. So, I placed a call to the emergency line, but it kept ringing. The guy with me said they had also been calling the line, but there was no answer.
I tried an e-hailing cab, which would cost N18,000. It said the driver was on his way, so I asked the guy beside me how much it would take to get a commercial bus (danfo) to Ikorodu, and he told me N5,000. I gave him the money to bring the danfo, but the guy ran away with my money.
After about 25 minutes, an emergency responder took the call and promised to come. While we were waiting, the woman sat on the ground and held on to my leg. I saw a well-dressed man carrying a laptop bag and walking down the street and I asked him to help me.
I told him I wanted to buy baby start-up items like powder, clothing and lotion for the baby because I saw that the woman was holding on to trash. I intended to give them to the ambulance so she would have these items when she was safely delivered of the baby. The man collected the N100,000 I gave him, and I never saw him again. He also ran away with my money.
How did these dubious actions make you feel?
They threw me into frustration. I had already made an SOS video of the situation, which I sent to all the WhatsApp groups I belonged to, asking for help. Nobody called back; they only sent me numbers to call and addresses.
At that point, I was just frustrated and wanted to move away from the woman to call a friend of mine and ask him to come immediately. As I turned, the woman who was holding my leg collapsed.
Mind you, she had taken off her clothes at the time and was naked. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, so I was trying to avoid looking. When I finally looked at her, I could see the baby’s hair coming out of her private part. She wasn’t responding, and her pulse was faint, but she was still breathing.
I prayed for her and asked someone to get me a carbonated drink and gin. I washed my hands and also the electric carving knife I had on my bike. At that point, her water broke, and she could not push anymore, so I had to bring the baby out carefully.
Was there a stage where you had doubts or fear that the outcome might be negative?
Yes. When I pulled out the baby, he was lifeless, and his umbilical cord was tied around his neck. At that point, I was confused. I began to think to myself that if anything went south, they would turn the story around, and the headlines would be different. I was praying to God, saying, ‘No matter what, don’t allow this to happen to me.’
My body was covered with faeces and urine, and I had to pray before I did CPR. The reason I did CPR was that the baby was pink, and I continued until the baby opened his eyes and smiled.
What would you say about bystanders who stood there recording the scenario but didn’t assist you?
I just had this feeling that nobody wanted to help me. In a bid to do the right thing, they stole from me. Nobody wanted to help, and it doesn’t make sense. The bystanders were making videos instead of coming to help.
When the baby was born, and he was lifeless, everybody around me ran away. It was when I resuscitated the baby, and he began to cry, that they all ran towards me.
You said in another interview that you saw three ambulances pass by the scene. Did you try to stop them for help?
Yes, I flagged them to stop, but none of them did. Even other vehicles passing by refused to stop. There was a point when a Land Cruiser vehicle with a Red Cross insignia on its rear-view mirror was passing. I almost ran into it, but the vehicle and its occupants didn’t stop.
In one of the videos, a LASTMA official could be seen at the scene. Was he a responder, too?
There was a traffic build-up from that area to Ojota, so the official came to see what was causing it. When he arrived, he saw that it wasn’t caused by a vehicle but by a woman who had just given birth. It was when the woman regained consciousness and wanted to breastfeed the baby that the ambulance arrived.
Was the woman mentally ill, as one of the men in the area described her?
From what I could see, she was sick but not insane. When I got to the hospital to see her, she recognised me, and we talked. I asked her for a phone number, and in the twinkling of an eye, she gave me one and called the name. That person was her brother in Osun State. She is also from the state.
So, I cannot say the woman is mentally ill, but something happened to her. I believe that if she is taken care of and loved, she will be well. I later learnt that this is her sixth child, so perverts take advantage of her condition. She needs mental attention.
Where did you draw the inspiration to be compassionate—through experience, personal ideology or religious faith?
First, it is from my personal experience growing up. It wasn’t easy. I came from a family where we only ate rice on Christmas Day. I grew up trekking eight miles to school for six years.
The best student in Further Mathematics was asked to leave school because he could not afford a uniform. That is my background. So, when it comes to pain, nothingness and suffering identity crisis, I know what it is.
I know what it means to grow up messed up. What kept me going is loving good things, and the only way to have good things is to work hard. Nobody is going to hand it over to you. I have experienced much failure in life and struggled with suicidal thoughts.
God will not come down from heaven; He passes through men to help other people. Miracles happen once in a blue moon; the rest are done by men. So, we need to fill our hearts with love and carry other people’s burdens.
Second, being a Pyrate has also helped me become a better person. To be a Pyrate, you must have certain beliefs beyond membership; the organisation only makes good men better. You become who you are when you join hands with like minds. When you believe in humanity and that the world can be a better place, you will show love to others.
If people would protect the weak and show love, there is so much to go around. The earth is blessed. We don’t need wars or bombs. This is not the first time I have helped people. Someone once stole from me while I was at work. Some people caught the man and beat him badly.
When I returned, I arrested them. It is one thing to arrest a person and another to take the law into one’s hands. We are not better than anyone else, because life can come for any of us at any time. – Culled from Punch.
