…Another face of scam in Lagos traffic
By VIVIAN ONYEBUKWA and CHIOMA IGBOKWE
She narrated her story with tears. Her daughter was on admission in the hospital. Doctors refused to attend to her because she could not raise N10,000 for the treatment.
This was the sob story from the middle-aged woman who identified herself as Funke that approached Saturday Sun reporters under the Ikeja General Hospital Bridge where she had been perambulating, begging for alms from commuters stalled in the traffic of the morning rush hours.
Anyone with a heart would be moved by her story. But somehow, her story did not jell.
Her story had a familiar ring. If you are a frequent user of the Airport-Ikeja-Maryland road, you are likely to wonder, haven’t I heard this story before? What’s more, she seemed somewhat familiar too. Take a closer look and the jigsaw would fall into place. She was a popular figure around the LASUTH-Ikeja Bridge axis, a career beggar hustling daily with phoney stories of medical problems to con money out of the public.
To confirm their suspicion, the reporters requested to see the child she claimed was on admission. Madam Funke changed her tune. Is it necessary? Oh, all I needed is just N1,500 to complete the money. I have already raised N8, 500 from other good Samaritans.
The reporters mollified her, assured that aside from paying the balance of N1,500, everything concerning her daughter’s treatment will be taken care of. She hopped into the car and took the reporters to the children Intensive Care Unit of Lagos State Teaching Hospital (LASUTH), a few meters away.
She quickly got out of the car and before slipping into the building said, “Madam, hold on a bit. Let me get clearance from the nurse so that you can be allowed to enter the ward and see my daughter.”
It was a plausible excuse since it was past visiting time. The reporter waited until the waiting stretched for over 20 minutes, and it was apparent she might not return again.
The reporters approached the nurse on duty.
The nurse said, “ It is true that visiting time is over but no one named Funke approached me just now. If you are referring to those beggars on the traffic, I can assure you that they are fake. They do not have patients here. They simply approach commuters on traffic to extort money and disappear. If you closely observe, many of them have approached you for several years. After several complaints by individuals, we alerted the state government task force and they raided them. They kept returning after some time. Don’t be deceived madam, most of them are fake.”
A thriving scam
Funke is one of the tribes of con artists who take advantage of the long traffic under the Ikeja Bridge to spin pathetic stories about non-existent children or ward stranded in LASUTH with a life-threatening illness. They are usually armed with fake receipts, gotten from the nearest pharmacy, listing expensive drugs and their prices, which they present to commuters if need be to convince them to part with money.
On November 14, 2017, a week after the chance encounter with ‘Fake Funke,’ Saturday Sun reporters decided to return to the same spot in search of other phoney beggars. Driving down from Mobolaji Bank Anthony Way towards the flyover, Funke was spotted, going about her usual business, still begging for alms. She drifted towards the car and as soon as she recognized the reporters, she took to her heels. As she scurried towards the nearby market she looked over her shoulders to ascertain she was not been trailed.
Others of her kind who did not understand the reasons for her sudden exit went about their business. One of such was a middle-aged man who was frantically begging with a poignant story. His wife was due to give birth to twins.
The reporter flashed wads of N1000 notes and beckoned him to move over to a spot after the traffic light. Excited, he waved at others that he was coming back soon. Metres away from the traffic light Saturday Sun engaged him and listened to his story.
“ My name is Segun. I am from Ogun State. My wife is pregnant with twins. She is currently in her eighth month. She fell down from the staircase and started bleeding. I rushed her to Gbagada General Hospital and we were referred to Ikeja Teaching Hospital. Doctors said that they must operate her immediately to save her life and that of my unborn twins. I was told to deposit N100, 000 before they can start the operation.
“I am a poor man that can barely feed my other children. Where on earth will I get N100, 000? I love my wife and I don’t want her to die. They just abandoned her at the emergency ward till I get money. Other good people like you raised N70, 000 for me which I have deposited, yet they said they will not touch my wife until I bring the balance.”
Feigning anger at the development, the reporters requested that Mr Segun should take them to the doctors, as they will ensure that his wife is attended to without delay. They assured him they were human right activists with strong backing from government and their responsibility is to report such corrupt doctors. He was also assured that the organization would assist him in offsetting the hospital bill at the end of the operation.
At this point, Segun said in Yoruba language, “Egbani elaja, arabinrin yii fe ma logun si efori elefori (See me, see trouble, this woman wants to take a painkiller for another man’s headache).”
Pretending to be ignorant of his outburst, Segun was asked to interpret what he just said in English. “I was just thanking God for sending helpers my way,” he said.
At that point, he pleaded that it was not necessary to raise an issue with the hospital management as they could throw out his wife. “ I beg you, madam, this is Nigeria. I am a poor man. Nothing good will come out of fighting the doctor. If you can manage to give me N5, 000, I will collect the balance from other good people like you. Please give me the cash, let me go and continue to beg for the balance,” said the man.
He had become uncomfortable at the sudden turn of the conversation. When the reporters insisted he must take them to the hospital, his suspicion got the better of him. Segun darted across the road. He fled the scene, though, not before alerting others that the ‘task force people’ were around, and in a split second, the other beggars who were lined up on the road vamoosed.
The next day, the reporters were plying the same route, this time driving from the direction of the Airport towards the bridge, and were stalled in the traffic when they were accosted by a woman who held a child that looked like a seven-year-old. The boy, pale and shivering, held unto his mother.
The woman introduced herself as Mrs Nwosu and briefly spun her story. Her son had hepatitis and was thrown out of the hospital because of their inability to pay the bill.
Amidst tears, she said: “ Mummy, help me save my child. I believe that you are a mother, and you know the pains of losing a child. We were admitted but when I told them that I can only deposit N10, 000, I was asked to leave the children’s ward to give room for those who can pay. My husband is a drunkard. We have six children who are dependent on me. I am a petty trader. The little money I have saved had been spent trying to save my son. Help me, madam.”
At this point, her son joined her: “ Help me, mummy. I am dying.”
How long has your mother been taking you to the streets to beg? The question caught the little boy unaware.
His mother tapped his hand and the boy responded. Two weeks. “It was today that the hospital drove us away. I am dying,” he added rather timidly, unconvincingly.
The woman knew the game was up. She dragged her son after her and they crossed the road.
How they get fake medical bills
Most times the tricksters easily deceived the gullible public with the presentation of receipts for drugs––authentic invoices of prescription drugs gotten from real pharmacies.
Saturday Sun inquiries at a pharmacy close to the hospital, to ascertain the possibility of getting a receipt with a list of drugs, yielded some insights.
The attendant explained that most times, family members of patients would come into the pharmacy with a prescription they got from the hospital and attendants would raise invoices for them that list the drugs and their price. Most of them leave with promises to go get money and return to purchase such drugs. “We want to sell our drugs, so there is nothing wrong to let the customer know the price in case they need to show it to the person who will pay. Most of the time some of them do not return again. We assume that they got it somewhere else cheaper,” said the attendant.
Further investigations by Saturday Sun yielded another sordid facet of the racket. The phoney beggars pay tolls to miscreants that hang around the bridge, who in turn alert them when operatives of the Lagos State task force are coming to raid them, and sometimes thwart efforts to arrest them.