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Momodou
Denmark
11599 Posts |
 Posted - 13 Jul 2024 : 23:54:39
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What you find in a just society…
By Mustapha-Swandi K Darboe
We had missed two deadlines. And our story was almost stale which meant we needed a fresh angle. It was a tragedy that killed at least 70 children, the acute kidney injury. Long after the toxic medicine was ordered off the shelves, a nurse in Tanji prescribed the deadly syrup for a child, Isha.
On December 2, 2023, I was with his dad, after a short visit at Tanji community health center. I arrived at Lamin’s, a dad grieving a child whose death is blamed on the very institution meant to save her. After couple of years doing stories of loss, abuse such as rape– among others— I know better to know I had to shut up and listen. At least more often.
Isha is my friend, he tells me. He picked up his phone and scrolled through their better times. Times buried by syrup. It was more like a chat over attaya. He ran through time, and explained how he gave up when told the child was administered one of the deadly cough syrups. Frustration. Anger. Sense of Betrayal.. All of it was in his eyes as he stared at me.
Slowly, tears rolled. He sobs. And then, he turned on himself. He started to question what he could have done differently. I sat there, staring at him. It turns out the day the child took the syrup, before they head out to the health center, she asked for “Ebbeh”. It would be the last thing she asked of his dad. How he wished he bought her “Ebbeh”! You could see it written all over the tears on his cheek!
And as I read through the minutes of the meetings of the AKI committee of the Ministry of Health, it caught my attention that their response to the tragedy was that the facility is not administered by the state. As though that meant anything at all.
A year earlier, I found myself sitting in front of boys raped in the custody of a charity. This matter was investigated by the state. An influential marabou family was involved. A few months down the line, the Ministry of Justice, in connivance with the Ministry of Children, took the case out of court.
Again, in the company of their mothers, I sat before 12 and 13 year olds, talk to me about rape. Beatings. Sleeping on bare floor and worn-out mattresses. After that story was published, the MOJ brought the case back to court. Only to charge less important people. The important ones walk. Frustrated, one of the poor mothers of one of the children wanted to file a civil suit against the big boys, someone told her I had a fever. Oh Boi! Oops Marabous!
Fast forward, on the first day of 2023, I got another case. This is an allegation of rape against a British guy. Two 12-year olds. Police messed up the case. And even after we investigated and provided reasonable evidence, everyone looked the other way. And now, one of the children is sick, needing an overseas treatment, one the family can’t afford.
All through these, we hope. We pray. We grieve. And even blame ourselves for re-traumatising the victims and their families over works that are never taken seriously by people paid to protect these children.
And as days swing by, questions come. Some we can answer. Many, we just— like most people— accept defeat. Take this! As I worked on the alleged pedophile case, I heard allegations the police arranged a payment (D10k to each family and D5k for the officers). How do you protect a child from a father? So, I thought. But that is an arrogant one. For I judge. And too quickly.
On my first day at the Brusubi police station, the first time I would meet the parents, one of them told me “even if we pursue this case, nothing will come out of it”. And in my silent corner, long after the dust is settled, I ponder over this. D10k, horrible as that may sound, or insist on a justice that will never come.
Back home, there may not even have been rice. Get money and breathe for a few days, or pursue a justice only a couple of journalists are passionate about? These parents have no number of ministers. They can’t call the director. If journalists give them space on their websites or news pages, it is only for a day.
Each day, they wake up and fend for the day’s food. Some days go by with something. Others nothing. Yet, they head home, as they must, with news of how the day went. Hoping the corner shop could credit them D200 for the next day’s food. On best days, as some days must be good, they head home to sit with a child they so much love, yet know she was violated at 12. The coolness of the eyes turns to tears! And this, everyday!
Folks like us, who investigated their stories— re-traumatising them, making a name as some “good journalist”, we get good ratings. As though they should eat that! And as we are consumed by this guilt and shame, we also sob.
A society is just only when it serves the little man. These victims of our society and government are the heroes. And it is their sins that will take us to hell.
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A clear conscience fears no accusation - proverb from Sierra Leone |
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What you find in a just society…
