I was impregnated and abandoned, says physically challenged NTA presenter

By Tunde Busari


SOME of the regular viewers of the Nigerian Television Authority, Osogbo, are by now used to a programme called Ohun Oju ri (Life‘s Experiences), a weekly phone-in, interactive show aired every Monday between 12.30pm and 1pm. Apart from the human interest content of the programme, its anchor makes it a really compelling viewing. As a result, the profile of the series is soaring in ratings compared with other programmes on the station.

A casual look at the presenter will give the picture of an active, urbane and articulate woman, generously endowed, and with a beautiful and appealing voice that can melt a heart of steel.

A closer look, however, will reveal a physically challenged woman, who moves in and out of the studio with the aid of a pair of crutches.

But this physical disability, to Funmilayo Kayode, the lady in question here, is a mere distraction, and not an obstacle to her ambition to be great in life. She has interestingly demonstrated this rare determination since she lost the use of her legs soon after her first birthday anniversary on November 28, 1976.

”As I just grew up to find myself in this state, I quickly realised that I had to double my efforts to survive,” she says. ”And that was what I did, and I am still doing up till this morning. I don‘t have any other life to live than this. So, I am determined to make a good use of it.”

Kayode‘s self-help drive was particularly fired by her Kwara State-born father‘s crass intolerance of her sorry state, a development which eventually led to the crash of his marriage with Funmi‘s mother.

She recalls, ”He (the father) told my mother that there was no place for a cripple in his family. He said she should go and do whatever she liked with me. You know I was too young to know this, but I later realised that that was what really happened before my mother packed out.”

But not long after the separation, the mother, then an auxiliary nurse, got another suitor and sealed her second marriage. ”I was then put under the care of my grandmother,” Kayode states. ”But my mother did not abandon me there. She usually called to see me, but that was different from living together. Anyway, grandmother did her best to take care of me.”

However, an experience, during her stay with the grandmother re-defined her perception of the society in relation to physically challenged people.

Kayode says, ”During a Christmas period, they prepared all the kids in the house and took them to a Father Christmas show. I expected them to take me along, but they left me at home. I felt sad and said, ‘If I were not in this state, they would not have done that to me.’”

After that experience, Kayode became more aggressive in her resolve to match her able-bodied counterparts in terms of performance at school and on the playground. She became so active that she started to frighten her playmates.

It was in such spirit that Kayode threw herself to more challenges of life after her primary school. She says, ”I then gained admission to Our Lady of Apostle, Maryway, Odo-Ona, Ibadan in 1989. But I must say that I studied under serious hardship, which I will never forget.

”In fact, I could not write my West African Examination School Certificate Examination inside the classroom with others. Who would carry me? So, they gave me a small space beside the window of the hall. That was where I wrote all my papers in May/June 1994.”

When the results were released, Kayode recorded an above average performance, which qualified her to seek admission to a higher institution. She was naturally happy. But the joy turned to sadness ”when I was told to go and learn hairdressing. There was nothing I could do, but to agree.”

Yet her focus remained on making it to the university or, worse, a polytechnic. While she was learning hairdressing, she was also frantically looking for a paid job from which she could raise money to buy the University Matriculation Examination form. Her heart was far away from the vocation imposed on her.

”I went to COPEC in Ibadan in search of a job,” says Kayode. ”I am happy to say that I met God there. The owner of the company, Chief Raymond Zard, just took a look at me and took me like one of his children. He even said I should not work, but to come and be collecting money.”

Surprisingly, Kayode turned down the offer. ”I refused the offer because I wanted to work with my hands to appreciate the value of money,” she adds. ”I started the work as an account clerk and saved money to obtain my UME (polytechnic) form.”

Kayode scored well and got a slot at the Polytechnic, Ibadan, to study Science Laboratory Technology. A protracted industrial action by the academic staff of the school a few weeks into resumption, however, aborted her dream.

Meanwhile, the Lebanese philanthropist did not disappoint the ambitious girl, whose struggle had also caught the attention of yet another philanthropist, a professor at the University of Ibadan, and Lagos-based Chief Cosmas Okoli, a former president of the Nigerian Sports Federation for the Disabled.

”There is no way I will forget these three ‘fathers‘ in my life,” Kayode says. ”Prof. Adedeji, now late, also took me like his child to the extent that on the day of his burial, I performed the dust-to-dust rite for him.”

Kayode got another admission to the Osun State College of Education, Ila-Orangun to study Accounting Education. It was not long into her course before she showed brilliance and won a Federal Government scholarship, which saw her through her three-year programme.

However, getting a job after graduation became a Herculean task as she came face-to-face with the challenges of discrimination against the physically-challenged wherever she turned. But a non-governmental organisation called Life Vanguard provided the platform that catapulted Kayode to celebrity status today.

”They employed me and gave me a post in the department in charge of physically-challenged people,” she says. ”I was more or less the coordinator of these special people. And I was very happy doing the work because of my direct contact with the disabled, most of who started seeing me as their model.

”I even organised a special treat for them on Valentine‘s Days. I took them to a popular eatery where they enjoyed their Valentine‘s Day.”

It was the success she recorded at Life Vanguard that inspired the idea of floating a TV programme to showcase the rich potential in the disabled. That was in 2003.

This project, however, did not sail through without a challenge. Lack of funds to buy air time posed a threat. But Kayode scaled through and went on air for the maiden edition of her programme on October 3, 2003.

”I have Alhaji Fatai Akinbade, Mr. Segun Akinwusi and Mr. Ben Adedire to thank for their support. If not for them, the programme would not have gone on air. They really tried for me when sponsors were only making promises,” Kayode says.

There is no doubt that she is a never-say-die woman. She is always full of hope as she clutches her crutches and strolls around with confidence on the streets of Osogbo, the capital of Osun State. Kayode, however, carries a heavy heart. She is not happy with the way the society treats her and her likes.

”It is not fair to treat us as a class of people, who can never do anything well in the world,” says Kayode. ”I have had the opportunity to travel to Ghana for a programme on the disabled; what I saw there was marvellous. But I thank Governor Olagunsoye Oyinlola for the concern he has shown. He once gave us a brand new 10-seater Peugeot Expert, which was unfortunately burnt during the last election problem.”

Kayode still laments a situation where men are not ashamed to walk up to them for love relationships, only to shy away from the responsibility for the resultant pregnancies.

She says, ”That is my story for you. This person pretended, slept with me and ran away when I told him I was pregnant. I don‘t want to go into details. I know God is there to judge both of us. He said I should abort the pregnancy, but I had my baby on October 2, 2007 at a hospital here in Osogbo.

“I am the only person caring for the baby despite my state. Many of the disabled people I know are single parents. And to make it worse, the father of my baby is not poor; he has a good job as a senior officer here in Osogbo. There is no excuse to abandon me except that he is ashamed to be seen with me. I will not say more than this about him,” Funmilayo, who does all household chores with ease despite having a housemaid, says.