Twenty-six-year old Precious Ojedokun was inconsolable when he lost his brother. Against the deceased’s wish, he was buried in a cemetery, then the following day Ojedokun saw the head of his late brother in the hands of two suspects. They had severed it soon after burial for use in a money ritual.
Ojedokun spotted the head, crouched, stared at it and exclaimed: “Ahhh! Ahhh!! Ahhh!!! He went on with his heart-rending cry and he was taken away, inconsolable.
He later calmed down enough to speak with Saturday Tribune on his brother’s sudden illness, death, burial and the shock of the news of his body being tampered with after he was buried.
“I am Ojedokun Precious. I was born in Lagos but lived in Saki with my parents and siblings for a long time. My father is from Sepeteri while my mother was from Delta State. She died about six years ago.
“My deceased brother was Ojedokun Victor and was 28 years old before he died on January 7. After he and I got admission into Ladoke Akintola University (LAUTECH) in 2013, we left Saki. I graduated from LAUTECH with a Bachelor’s degree, but my brother dropped out when our mum died. He went to Osogbo and later started schooling at National Open University of Nigeria (NOUN). He was an undergraduate there until his death.
“He called me on January 2 and told me that he was feeling sick. I was in Ogbomoso while he was in Osogbo, Osun State. I went to him and I could see that he was really very weak. I took him to a hospital (name withheld) but he was the one who drove there. The doctor asked him to run some tests and told him to come back the following day.
“We went back home but my brother’s condition got worse. I called a friend of his and he came to help me get him back to the hospital. This time round, he could not drive. We had to carry him into the car.
“We got there, and to our consternation, we were given a hostile reception. My brother was not even offered a bed; they made him sit in a chair and we had to hold him because he was almost falling off. We were begging the doctors to give him a bed but they were saying that they would soon come to us.
“For hours, he was on the chair. Not even a nurse attended to him. It got to about 8pm. Fortunately, we found a stretcher and made him to lie on it.
“In the early hours of the following day, he was too weak. We got some of his test results and saw that his Packed Cell Volume (PCV) was very low. They requested that I donate or get him some blood. I wanted to donate but blood was got for him, and when he was transfused, his condition got better.
“However, given the hostile reception he had, we decided to move him to LAUTECH Hospital, Ogbomoso as counselled by our Aunty, a senior nursing officer. She also spoke to a doctor on phone but they denied us the request. They told us to fill a DAMA (Discharge Against Medical Advice) form but we refused to sign it since there was need to take my brother to another hospital where he would get adequate medical attention.
“From 3am, we could not go until we were forced to sign the form at daybreak. We moved him to Ogbomoso. The moment we got there, the doctors saw his case and instantly gave him a bed to lie on. That same day, they did a test and referred us to the University of Ilorin Teaching Hospital.
“We got to Unilorin hospital same day but late at night. On getting there, the doctors attended to him very fast. His case was very severe because they diagnosed him with acute myeloid leukemia. They gave us a bed in the staff ward and started attending to him.
“On January 7, his platelets were very low. We noticed this before as he was bleeding all over his body. Any small cut, he would bleed, and there was no way to stop the bleeding. My Aunty’s worry was that he could have haemorrhage and there would be nothing to do to stop it.
“At about 9am, my brother, Victor, started shouting: ’headache, headache.’ It was very severe and his cry was agonising as everybody could hear him. He was begging the doctors to attend to him. They were with him and asked him to be calm. They gave him pain relieving injection, but the pain did not come down. He kept shouting. We went to the doctors and they prescribed an intravenous drug which I quickly bought at the hospital pharmacy.
“Within some minutes, he started calming down, or so I thought. I didn’t know he was dying. We tapped him but he was not responding. We were told he needed blood transfusion and I wanted to donate again. However, when my PCV was checked, I was told it was too low for donation. His fiancée was there with us and they checked her PCV which was adequate for donation.
“We were on the donation process when my dad came and told us we have lost him. I was utterly devastated. We did the clearance and started packing. I brought him from the hospital straight to Saki where my father lives.
“One of my brother’s requests before he died was that he should be buried beside our mum. That was what we were going to do but when we got home, people living in the environment said it was a taboo in Yorubaland to bury a son beside his mother. They said it was also a taboo to bury a son where his father would always see his grave. They refused our move and counselled me not to bury him there but that we should use the general burial ground at Orite the outskirts of Saki.
“They showed us the place and we went to bury him there on Monday, January 8, at noon. We were told that we could only get people who plaster graves in the morning, that they would have gone to work at the time we did the burial. So we slated the work for Tuesday.
“We went there Tuesday to do the plastering. I went with my 15-year-old brother and my father’s friend. I noticed that something was not right. We used some twigs to mark out the four corners of the grave so that we would easily identity the points the bricklayer would work on.
“On getting there, I saw that one of the twigs was missing, but I didn’t think it was anything serious. I thought probably the herders brought their cows there and they trampled on it. We continued the plastering, but as we were doing it, Amotekun officers came. They asked about what we noticed when we came to the burial site and I replied: ‘Nothing.’
“Then, they told us of how someone came to the cemetery the night before to steal a head. I was very shocked. My silent prayer at that time was that it would not be my brother’s head. They showed me a picture and I fell with a thud. My legs were very weak and quivering.”
Still looking like someone in a trance, Precious spoke on what was done to his late brother’s body: “I didn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense. It still doesn’t make any sense.” I’ve gone through a lot. It’s okay,” he stated, as he stared blankly throughout the interaction with him.
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