No warning, no warrant, no daughter: when the system fails a mother

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.


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.

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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