GEOFF IYATSE has an encounter with some young ladies just rescued from baby factories and traffickers’ den
When Nigeria (on the strength of the Gross Domestic Product rebasing) officially overtook South Africa to emerge the biggest economy earlier in the year, the bloated GDP became a publicity stunt in government circles.
The six per cent growth of the country’s GDP in the past few years has been etched in public consciousness as a sign of progress, whereas poverty indices are still high, as shown in reports by the World Bank and other competent authorities.
For instance, ranking by the World Bank puts Nigeria as the third country with the largest number of poor people. The situation is also illustrated by the country’s appalling position in out-of-school children (which is 70 per cent in some states) and access to other basic things as well as the number of people living below poverty line, which is put at about 70 per cent.
The pervasive poverty has bred various vices that have further battered the image of the country. For instance, it has been linked to the boom in baby factories as well as child trafficking.
Hard hit from Demark
So alarming is the syndrome that some foreign authorities in charge of child adoption have started reacting in different ways. Some countries have decided to put a check on the demand for Nigerian babies.
For instance, Demark banned its citizens from adopting Nigerian children as a reaction to the raid at a Lagos baby shop where eight pregnant women were rescued. The Minister of Children in the Scandinavian country, Manu Sareen, said he took the decision “to protect the children and to give the families peace of mind.”
The Danish National Social Appeals Board had concluded that it was “no longer justifiable” to adopt children from Nigeria, following the growing difficulty in ensuring the ethical adoption process. Starting as an unethical medical practice where hospital workers swapped babies of different sexes for a fee, the crime has, indeed, compounded the country’s dilemmas.
Just last month, the Abia State Police Command paraded two nurses and four pregnant teenagers rescued from a hospital that was into baby-trading. About 150 suspects were arrested in connection with the illicit activity, while the hospital was shut down. A similar centre where operators bought male and female infants for N100,000 and N80,000 respectively for re-sale was unveiled in the same state in April 2013.
In May last year, 17 pregnant teenagers were rescued in Imo State during a similar raid. Within a week last December, a storey building in Aba and another one in Umuahia, Abia State capital, were pulled down for housing baby-making businesses.
Similar operations led to the freedom of dozens of teenage girls and boys who were kidnapped or hired and taken to the centres for baby production. The boys, in some cases, confessed to being paid less than N15,000 to father the commercial kids.
But sooner than expected, the inhumane trade went national with illegal centres burst in Lagos, Oyo, Ogun and other major cities in the South-South. This year, the police burst a baby factory in Abeokuta, Ogun State, and rescued five children as a result.
Emergency mother at 14
Fourteen-year-old Chika Ndubuisi has experienced a lot of pains. She has encountered the grief of untimely motherhood. She took in last year, and by the twist of events, was taken to an Ondo baby factory before she was rescued.
Ndubuisi is the third in a family of four children. Her older siblings live separately from her parents, according to her, even though they have acquired no form of training to fend for themselves. She herself was only in primary three when she took in for a boy who she fell for because he was of financial assistance to her.
“I started going out with him because he was giving me money. We agreed that if anything happened, we would be together. But when I got pregnant, he gave me drugs to take. When nothing happened, he threatened to kill me if I mentioned his name. Eventually, when my parents knew about the pregnancy, they took me to his parents who started maltreating me.
“That was when his brother-in-law told me he would introduce me to somebody who would take me to Lagos. He promised me the person would take care of me till when I would give birth. He said I could leave my baby there but could go back to check him occasionally,” said Ndubuisi.
The promise of proper care took the teenager from her home in Imo State to Abia, where she was introduced to one Chioma. In a week, she was driven into a tightly-protected compound in Ondo State where she had no access to telephone.
Misled by friends
Fortunately, Ndubuisi had not experienced the orthodox childbirth process she saw her housemates go through before she was rescued on January 29. And when she eventually gave birth in March, she lost her baby. She has not stopped thinking about what could have happened to her if help had not come early enough. She also thinks about the best thing to do with her life, even though she is convinced her parents – she has not heard from them this year – cannot give a reasonable launch pad.
Betty Okolie, also from the southeast, was not as lucky as Ndubuisi. The pains of childbirth she suffered in the hands of cold-blooded baby traders was better told in tears. They said her baby had died and she believed them. But the trauma of the deceit that took her from Anambra through Abia to Ondo, she said, continued to haunt her.
“I arrived at the house on January 16 and gave birth six days after. They told me my baby had died and they brought a Bagco bag, asked me to put in the baby for burial. And I did that. I still feel very bitter about what happened. Those who introduced me to the people lied to me that they would help me take care of my baby. It was when I got there that I knew they were selling children. But I could not turn back or call anybody,” narrated the 18-year old.
Okolie has learnt a lesson: she would be very careful with friends. She said her friends introduced her to the escapade that led to her pregnancy.
Girls from baby factory. Photo: naijatowncrier.com
From Russia with tears
Faith Oghe (not real name – like other victims whose experiences are captured in this story) looked every inch half her real age until she opened up.
She asked, “What story do you want me to tell you?”
Nobody could have guessed she was old enough to know what sex is, much less the horrible world of prostitution. But the chocolate-skin tiny girl said she was born 28 years ago into abject poverty. And that was compounded when she lost her father.
Asked while she terminated her education at the secondary school, she asked (mockingly), “Where would I get the money to continue?” Oghe could not source money for higher education but she, from 2011 to late last year, coughed out a whopping $13,000 (N2.13 million) to secure another launch pad that turned out a failed venture.
After the death of her father, she was left with her aged mother who could not do anything to raise money for the family’s upkeep. Oghe said she did petty trading while in secondary school but what she earned could hardly cover her basic needs.
“Eventually, in 2011, somebody offered to help me out. The lady was able to secure an international passport, a Russian visa and air ticket at a total cost of $5,000 (about N820,000) for my journey,” she said.
Asked whether she knew what she would be travelling to Russia for before she embarked on the journey, she said, “I knew most Nigerian young girls in Europe were into prostitution, but it never occurred to me that the situation could be as terrible as what I went through. I never liked prostitution but there was nothing else I could do. I thought one would meet a wealthy white man.”
Oghe’s dream was an illusion. On her arrival at Samara, Russia, her passport was seized by her ‘benefactor’ after which she was pushed into the streets to fend for herself and look for as many ‘clients’ as she needed to sleep with to raise the agreed money that would guarantee her independence. Before she left Nigeria, she had sworn to an oath to remit $35,000 (N5.75 million) before she would be free to seek her fortune in Europe.
“Sometimes, you would arrive at a brothel on appointment in the night but asked to go back when the owner did not consider you beautiful enough. You would go to the streets to hawk. If you were not lucky, somebody would take you home before you realised that 20 men were waiting to rape you after which you would be thrown out,” she recalled.
For three years, she worked under a humiliating condition in cold Samara to create wealth for others, hoping she would eventually reclaim her passport and, most importantly, freedom some day. If that happened, she said, “I would have gone into trading on African products, which I was already doing on part-time basis. I had hoped that when I have saved enough money, I would return to help my mother.”
For each ‘business’, she said, she earned 2,500 Russian rubble (equivalent of N10,000). But 75 per cent of the money went straight to the broker and chauffeur, while she wired the balance, minus her feeding money, to the traffickers’ account. She was holed up in that cycle amid regular police harassment for years until she met her waterloo.
She was arrested and detained for 11 months. During her detention, she said, nobody, including those who whisked her to Europe, came to her aid. Her mother was not aware of her ordeal either. She bore the pains alone, according to her, because she did not want others to share from her stupidity.
Dejected, Oghe was repatriated to Nigeria about three weeks ago. And one of the prices she had to pay for her “stupidity” was being grilled for hours for the whereabouts of her passport (which she lied was lost) before the intervention of the National Agency for the Prohibition of Traffic in Persons and Other Related Matters. She also returned with a cracked tooth, which she got from one of the brutal encounters she had.
And three Mondays ago when she sat before our correspondent, the victim was in yellow blouse, a pair of black leggings and loafers. She said the items were all she arrived the Murtala Mohammed Airport with, and that her family had not heard from her since last year. She also confessed she was ready to do anything, no matter how menial, to improve her lot and that of her mother, who she said could barely feed.
During her sojourn in Europe, Oghe witnessed what many may consider the highest cost of poverty. She saw how fellow Africans were raped and tossed away like pieces of rag from storey buildings. Yet, it is not only in Europe that poverty has forced Nigerians into unthinkable decisions. Back home, it does.
Enslaved by mom
Angela and Abigail lived about 500 miles apart from each until their common misfortune brought them together. And now, they both want to be fashion designers – a dream that could only come through with the help of ‘good Samaritans’, as their families are not capable of paying the cost of the training.
At 13, Angela has not gone beyond primary one, where she stopped during her short stay with her aunt in Ibadan, Oyo State. The teenager stopped when she returned to her Benue State-based mother. At less than 10 years, the relationship between Angela’s mother and relatives of her late husband strained. The disagreement was on who would assume custody over the young Angela, not for her welfare but for pecuniary reason.
“My mother sent me to Lagos when my uncles wanted to send me to somebody else. But it was not my mother that brought me. It was our neighbour who lived in Lagos before that helped my mother to bring me to stay with my madam,” she narrated.
Probed further on the condition of her stay with her “madam,” since she was neither in school nor placed on any apprenticeship, she said her mother was on a monthly pay but could not confirm the amount. It was learnt that Angela’s uncles had a similar exploitation plan that was thwarted by the girl’s mother who felt the monthly compensation would not be shared with her if her daughter was routed through the uncles.
While she was with her madam, Angela said, she was denied access to phone discussion with her mother and any other relative. She said her mother’s phone number was collected from her with a stern warning that she should never attempt to call her or anybody for that matter.
On the other hand, Abigail, a colleague of Angela until recently, had a direct agreement with her employer. But according to her, she never earned a kobo close to a year she worked.
“She agreed to pay me N7,000 monthly. I wanted to save money to register for tailoring apprentice when I left,” Abigail narrated.
Angela and Abigail were locked up in the same apartment where they toiled from dawn to dusk, sometime performing the same task over and over when there was no other work to do. They both said they were fed only morning and night while subjected to inhuman punishment at the most ridiculous excuse. They both have different marks on their bodies, which they claimed were inflicted on them by their “madam” and her husband.
NAPTIP’s argument
NAPTIP officials have become more discreet in dealing with human trafficking, especially the cash-and-carry baby factory ‘business.’ Sources said those behind the business “are really powerful and influential”, a reason the agency has changed its operations.
Executive Secretary, NAPTIP, Mrs. Beatrice Jeddy-Agba
Like the new cases, every tale of victims of trafficking seems underscored by poverty. Many people have argued that an improved economy would reduce trafficking, which is one of the self-help strategies Nigerians take to survive hard times.
But Lagos Commander of NAPTIP, Joseph Famakin, said the menace was more driven by other socio-cultural challenges
According to him, the push factors, where poverty falls, include lack of information, broken homes, polygamy and desperation for wealth. Booming sex markets in Europe, disparity in currency exchange and the need for cheap labour, according to him, are among the pull factors.
“A man who cannot take care of one wife will marry four and have 23 children. If we generalise the problem as poverty, people will not understand that if they cut their coat according to their cloth, they will be able to escape it. For instance, somebody who is on Salary Grade Level 8 may be able to cope with one wife than another person on the same level who marries four wives with 23 children. That is self-inflicted punishment, not poverty,” he said. Famakin said children of broken homes were more vulnerable than children of the poor.
Saying that some recently rescued victims were from wealthy and notable Nigerian families, the zonal commander argued that peer group was a major influence on youths who had fallen prey to traffickers.
“Cultural factors also play a key role. From the geographical spread of the victims, you can tell whether poverty is the most critical issue. If you look at the statistics, you will observe that states which are most affected are not the poorest in the country. What does that tell you?” he asked.
Statistics say traffickers make $150 million each year trafficking people from Africa to Europe. This underscores the reason those who indulge in the act are not giving up easily, despite the growing campaign.
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