A group of five or six individuals, including uniformed
police officers, forced their way into my home. I had briefly stepped away to
check on the food cooking in the kitchen when the front door was pushed open.
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My name is Mary Adepoju, and I live in Southwark, London.
This
is the story of how the authorities and law enforcement 'kidnapped' my child
and refused to return her—even after the court ruled in my favour. I was even
sectioned and labelled mentally unstable, simply because I am deaf in one ear.
On
the evening of 9th September 2023, my life as a mother was turned upside down
in a matter of minutes. I was at home in Southwark, preparing supper with my
eleven-year-old daughter. We were sitting together on an armchair, sharing a
quiet moment, when a knock came at the door. What followed was a sudden and
violent intrusion—one that I still struggle to comprehend.
A
group of five or six individuals, including uniformed police officers, forced
their way into my home. I had briefly stepped away to check on the food cooking
in the kitchen when the front door was pushed open. The group claimed they were
acting on a court order to remove my daughter from my care and place her with a
stranger—a paternal uncle who is rarely at home.
However,
no documentation was presented to support this claim, despite my repeated and
desperate requests to see it.
As
a mother with no formal legal training, I was nonetheless confident that
something was gravely amiss. My daughter's father was not even at home at the
time; I was told the plan was to place her with his wife—my daughter's
stepmother. I was not consulted. There was no prior warning. And above all, my
daughter did not consent.
I
resisted, as any mother would, but my resistance was met with force. The police
officers pinned me down, injuring me in the process. In a moment of
desperation, I fought back and bit one officer. But I was outnumbered and
overpowered. The physical struggle left me bruised—both in body and spirit. In
front of my daughter, I was rendered helpless.
That
night marked the beginning of a painful legal ordeal. I immediately sought recourse
through the London Borough of Southwark, determined to have my daughter
returned. But what followed was a further attack—this time on my character.
I
was arrested and held in custody without a charge sheet until the court
released me three days later.
The
ordeal then proceeded to Southwark Crown Court, where those who had taken my
daughter alleged that I was mentally unstable and requested a psychiatric
evaluation.
It
deeply wounded me, especially given my limited hearing, which some deliberately
and wrongly interpret as a mental health issue. I had raised my daughter for
eleven years with care and dedication. Yet now I was being painted as unfit.
Despite
these claims, the court found no evidence of neglect on my part. Yet,
inexplicably, no action was taken to reunite me with my daughter. Nearly two
years have now passed. I have not seen her—not even for a supervised visit.
There has been no communication, no updates. I am left in total darkness
regarding her welfare.
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Inside the court |
As an
educated mother in London, I had faith in the system. I believed that if I did
the right thing, sought legal redress, and spoke the truth, justice would
prevail. However, I have come to realise that the system can be
manipulated—personal influence and even corruption may play a significant role.
I have reason to suspect there was an attempt to have me sectioned under the
Mental Health Act. Fortunately, I managed to defend myself against these
efforts.
I
share my story now because I know I am not alone. Other women—other
mothers—have found themselves similarly silenced and sidelined. My daughter did
not choose to be taken from me. She did not ask to be separated from the life
we built together. Yet both her voice and so was mine were ignored.
It
is difficult to comprehend that I live in fear and insecurity in a civilised
society like Britain—a nation whose civilisation once dominated the world to
such an extent that the sun never set on its empire. Ironically, it is this
very dominance that brought many of us to this island nation.
I
have been home alone since 2023. Everything that belonged to her remains
quietly in its place, waiting for my daughter to return.
Until I see her again, I will not stop speaking out. No mother should have to fight this hard merely to be heard.
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