Every community has its own, this middle-aged man with a warm smile and friendly gesture that makes you feel at home even if you are new. They know and are known to everyone, he is the first to respond to a distress call and the last to leave the scene; our little known Patrick Shaw. Just like the fabled police reservist, Baba Ben as we all affectionately refer to him is not a fictional character but a real man.
After I had moved into this neighborhood, my car battery was on its death bed and he was always there to help me jump start my car. I also found him to be quite resourceful as regards where to source for bargain parts and how to reach the local police. Over time, our friendship blossomed, so when I needed to hire a car or just someone to talk to, he would be on call.
I was not the only one who he got along with me though, the area chief, the OCS amongst a host of other local government actors, in essence, he was the one manning the last gate, our community. During bursary and vulnerable group disbursements, he is the one who mobilizes the needy to register and also serves as their representative. You would be forgiven to imagine that he is also the primary beneficiary.
It is not unusual to bump into him during casual strolls or the occasional visit to the local butcher. In my younger years, my naivety would have dismissed him as a hopeless layabout. However, you get to learn that he also attends to his ailing father because everyone else in the family isn’t available. Eventually, the father dies and you can’t help but notice that the other siblings seem better off; he mentions to you that he had to drop out of school to see them through school.
In the last few months, I realized that I was seeing less of him save for the occasional phone call to check on me. A single father, he had mentioned that his only daughter how suffers from severe hydrocephalus attends a special school. Recently, my car failed to start again and as usual, I called upon Baba Ben. He has never failed me and this was not going to be the first time.
This also allowed us to catch up and so I asked how his daughter was fairing. Incidentally, this economy has not spared him either. She started convulsing at school and so he had to seek medical intervention, as the condition worsened. The cost of these medical visits eventually, overwhelmed him and the poor girl had to drop out of school.
The girl is fourteen years old and was attending nursery school, she has three siblings and the eldest has just cleared high school. Life has a way of turning ordinary people into cynics in such instances but not Baba Ben. This is Easter Season and more so the reason why this story is relevant. This girl needs to attend a special school where caregivers can attend to her special condition whilst developing her socially, emotionally and intellectually. The father is no longer financially capable of seeing her through such an institution.
Perhaps, this story has touched you or are a similar one resides within your community or circle of influence. This is my passionate appeal to well-wishers to intervene here or elsewhere. The first one standing is always the one who is hit the hardest. However, the story of Easter reminds us there was one who stood last so that no one else would suffer needlessly thereafter and it is in this spirit that I make my plea. Every community has its own; in ours, we call him Baba Ben what about you?
