logo
'We're all to blame': Mum and daughter lay dead for months

'We're all to blame': Mum and daughter lay dead for months

BBC News2 days ago
How did a mother and her 18-year-old daughter lie dead in their home for months and nobody knew?This is just one of the questions examined during the inquest into the deaths of Alphonsine Djiako Leuga and Loraine Choulla.Loraine had Down's syndrome and her mother was her carer. They were known to social services. And yet they had "lain undiscovered for some time" in their home in Radford, Nottingham, last May.It's a tragic case that has left people in the community not only blaming the authorities, but also themselves.
"What went wrong? Did the system fail her? That's the question," a friend told the BBC.She had met Alphonsine, who was born in Cameroon, outside the Victoria Centre in Nottingham when they had just arrived in the UK in 2016 from Italy. She had two daughters with her at the time.It was a time of desperation."I met them on the street. They had nowhere to go," she explained."She was speaking French. I spoke in French."They all stayed with the friend, who did not want to be named, at her house for up to eight weeks."I took her in because she is a Cameroonian. I am a Cameroonian too, my kids are not home either," she added.
Later in 2019, Alphonsine, 47, and her two daughters moved into their council house in Hartley Road and got to know locals in the community. The older of the two children, who is in her 20s, moved out in April 2022, the inquest heard.One shopkeeper affectionately called Alphonsine "Cameroon woman", and described her as an easy-going person with a happy daughter.But hard times followed, and Alphonsine would go on to tell locals her heating had been cut off and Loraine was not going to school, which had affected her benefits and ability to pay the bills. A local business let her buy food on credit."Whenever she would get money she would clear her bill," the employee said."Maybe £20 worth of items... just little meal for a few days."She would buy frozen food and dry items and what her daughter wanted, according to the staff member, who did not want to be named.But it was winter, it was cold and she could not heat her home as December approached.The house appeared unkempt and had signs of disrepair.The shop worker said at this time, Alphonsine visited the store with a swollen face."I was asking, 'are you ok? 'What's happening'? She said the cold is too much," they said.The inquest - which began on Monday at Nottingham Coroner's Court - heard Alphonsine had begun to disengage with housing and social services in 2021, refusing access to her house.
'System is wrong'
It meant inspections did not take place and her gas supply was subsequently capped. When she asked for it to be turned back on, she didn't grant access to her property. Alphonsine and Loraine remained without hot water and heating from 2023.By January 2024, Alphonsine was critically ill having just spent days in hospital with very low iron levels.On 2 February, she told an ambulance call handler she needed help for herself and her daughter."Would you send an ambulance? Please come, please," were the last words she said on the phone before the call ended.The ambulance never came as it had been wrongly labelled as an "abandoned call", and Alphonsine died first - between 2 and 8 February - of pneumonia, leaving Loraine, who relied "entirely" on her mum, to fend for herself.She died weeks later of malnutrition and dehydration.When news of their deaths emerged, the community was left shocked and with questions: How could this happen? How did they not see the signs?"It's so upsetting. She and her daughter were probably in that house undetected for maybe months," the shop worker said."It means there is problem in the community. Everybody is by themselves. Nobody can check [on] each other."I believe someone like that should be more supported. The system is wrong."
Next-door neighbour Deborah Williams described seeing the mother struggling with Loraine at times, who was non-verbal and physically strong for her age.She told the BBC she would overhear Alphonsine helping her with her language skills."You'd hear her mum trying to support her with speaking. It was almost like you could tell that mum was reading baby books and wanting her daughter to copy," she said.Deborah said the pair were good neighbours and recalled last seeing them at the start of 2024.At this point she said the garden was overgrown, there was mould on the windows - which were left ajar in winter - and the back gates were in need of repair.But the "telling signs" went unnoticed among the wider community.
"I live in the area, where it's a not a bad thing to keep yourself to yourself," Deborah said."You do kind of want to be invisible. You don't want any trouble. You don't want to draw attention."It just never really occurred to me that it could be that severe a situation, but those are telling signs that something is not right."In happier times, she described seeing the pair out and about with matching hairstyles. "Mum's deciding that she's going to have a yellow or an orange weave, the daughter's going to have the same one as well," Deborah recalled. She had had two visits from social services enquiring about the whereabouts of the pair and felt the council, as a landlord, had a responsibility to them.Social care staff attempted to visit Alphonsine and Loraine in early 2024 but when it appeared to them the house was empty, they left. The coroner said there were "missed opportunities, particularly by Nottingham City Council social care teams, to escalate concerns" around the pair and to involve police in welfare checks.Deborah added Alphonsine and Loraine's quiet nature - they weren't a nuisance or noisy - meant no action was triggered."That's a sad thing," she said. "The daughter was so reliant on the mum - she wouldn't even know how to get a key and to let herself out."She can't shout, raise an alarm of some sort. They [Loraine] didn't have the functionality to do something like open the front door, because that person, your person was everything. That person was responsible for your life."
When police discovered the pair, there was evidence teenager Loraine had tried to feed herself, the inquest heard.There were two unopened tins of tuna found in the microwave and half-eaten food in the bedroom, including bread and raw pasta.Jamil Ellahi, who owns a barbershop opposite their home, said he felt angry when he found out about their deaths."I felt sad because obviously I'm across the road and used to see her every week or so," he said."I blame myself. I blame everybody who lives round here, because we should have been more of a community and we should look after our neighbours."The ignorance of not talking to [a] neighbour next-door, not knowing the name, that's the problem."Jamil thinks if communities were more sociable, problems would not go under the radar."We're all to blame. You can't just put the finger on one person, or one society, or one group. It's all of us."We all, we all have to take a lesson from this."Additional reporting by Asha PatelIf you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this story, support is available via the BBC Action Line.
Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

The Bitcoin businessman battling to save Bedford from the brink
The Bitcoin businessman battling to save Bedford from the brink

Times

time23 minutes ago

  • Times

The Bitcoin businessman battling to save Bedford from the brink

Town centres are in decline. Coffee shop chains replace independent businesses, department stores lie empty long after closing. Disillusionment grows on crime-ridden streets. Yet few have the money or blind ambition to try what Peter McCormack has set out to do in Bedford, a market town that finds itself on the brink. 'When you ask people why they do not come to the town any more, they'll say either it's a shithole or it's dangerous,' the 46-year-old said. 'I warned the police that if they didn't fix it that I would. And they haven't.' The businessman, who made a small fortune on bitcoin, has hired ten private security guards to patrol the streets every Saturday in August, armed with body cams and radios. It's a £10,000 pilot which he hopes will provoke a civic response. 'Because look, I could spend all this money and nobody comes into the town. And then it's pointless. It can't be saved. If people do not come to the town, it will die.' There's a lot at stake. 'In less than a few years time, less than three miles from where we stand there's going to be eight million visitors and they're looking at this town and they go, 'Well, should we invest here, or should I go to Milton Keynes or […] anywhere else?' said Tom Wootton, the Conservative town mayor, indicating the Universal Studios being built next to Bedford. 'We've got a short window and a short time and we've got to make it work.' On a drizzly Thursday in the town centre, more than 60 people, including those who work in support services and business owners, piled into McCormack's café, Real Coffee, to hear McCormack and Wootton speak. They murmur agreement. People don't feel safe. They are angry. McCormack laments the loss of the police station in town, while others share frustration at littered needles and bike thefts. They share horrifying stories of violence, including wielding shovels to scare criminals away from a rundown apartment block. Then a woman chimes in: 'The fear of crime everywhere, nationally, is greater than crime itself.' She could have a point. John Tizard, the police and crime commissioner, told local press that antisocial behaviour was at a long-term low, and that McCormack was pulling a 'political stunt'. The council, in partnership with Bedfordshire police and others, have launched a new public spaces protection order. The police meanwhile have promised more visible patrols and a crackdown on shoplifting, antisocial behaviour and drug crime. Some have seen the efforts: Ghulam Khan, 55, has run the Al-Badar restaurant since 2006 and while business is slowing down, he often sees police apprehending suspects while he is delivering food at night. 'Three to four years ago it was dangerous, but in the last couple of years it is getting better,' he said. When McCormack mentions reports that crime is declining in Bedford, laughter breaks out among the crowd. They don't believe it, pointing out a lot of crime goes unreported. 'Even if it is getting better, I want people to feel safe,' McCormack said. How people feel about crime rates matters as much as, maybe more, than cold hard data. 'My son always says, no one will remember how often you steam clean the streets. It's how unsafe they felt,' Wootton added. Born and raised in Bedford, McCormack now owns the Real Bedford football club and bar as well as the café in town. He's the 'homegrown Bitcoin millionaire' bigged up by the mayor, and it's clear that McCormack feels a personal drive for Bedford's improvement, not least because of his own experiences. On the morning of his community meeting, he walked back into his café, saying 'He was threatening someone with knuckledusters,' a little breathlessly, pointing towards a grey-haired man who had just been bundled into a police car, a woman blowing kisses to him through the blackened window. Most worryingly, there has been a sharp increase in assaults on women in the town, McCormack said: 'I would like to improve the safety for everyone in the town. But I'm the father to a daughter and the partner to a girlfriend. They're my primary concern.' The security guards will function almost as scarecrows, deterring crime and calling the police when a crime is committed, he said. 'Will they be using their statutory powers to do citizen's arrests? No. That said, if one of them down the alley catches somebody sexually assaulting a young girl, I absolutely fully expect them to sit on top of that person and have the police come and look,' McCormack explained. But some people are worried about McCormack's plan. 'I agree with the initial incentive but I still feel it's shortsighted, and will make already marginalised people feel more pushed out,' said Siobhan Moriarty-Jones, who works at the Cavalier Club Barbershop that offers free haircuts to homeless people. 'This feels like a neanderthal approach. We don't have mental health provisions in Bedford so that is the repercussions, such as drug misuse.' McCormack returns again and again to discussing the 'plague' of drug addicts and drug dealers he sees pass by his café. He is sympathetic — he used to struggle with drug addictions himself — but 'cares more about those in the town who get up and work'. Dawn Manu, a 65-year-old with lupus, has a list of complaints about the town, and its services. Yet she worries that using force ignores the struggles people face and could simply push them into prisons. 'I've kicked off in town, I looked like I'd lost the plot, but I am annoyed,' she said. Perceptions matter, and people are wary of talking down a town that has much to offer. 'It breaks my heart when I come and I see all the problems because we've got some really fantastic shops and offerings,' Wootton added. 'A small element is ruining it for everybody, so I support anything that helps.'

Tuk-tuk driver uses wheelie bin to steal £24k of wine
Tuk-tuk driver uses wheelie bin to steal £24k of wine

Telegraph

time23 minutes ago

  • Telegraph

Tuk-tuk driver uses wheelie bin to steal £24k of wine

A tuk-tuk driver stole £24,000 worth of wine after piling it into a wheelie bin. Iuliu Kubola, 61, broke into a restaurant on Threadneedle Street, London, with a crowbar before fleeing with 73 bottles. CCTV footage showed him calmly examining the labels of bottles before stuffing them into his jacket. He gently placed other bottles in a wheelie bin, which he then struggled to drag from Piazza Italiana to his tuk-tuk, before cycling away. The theft on May 6 was followed by a further visit to the same restaurant to steal three more bottles of wine worth around £680 on June 15. The City of London police said he went back again on June 19, but left without taking anything. His raids also caused damage to doors and locks, which cost nearly £1,500 to repair. He was arrested on June 22 after an officer recognised him. He has since admitted three counts of burglary. Det Con Marcus Fairclough said: 'Thanks to the good work by our officers, who spotted him and quickly made enquiries and the arrest, Iuliu Kubola will face the consequences of his criminality. 'We will attend all reports of break-ins in the City, giving us the best chance of making an arrest and collecting evidence from a scene. 'We will always take this type of criminality seriously and thoroughly investigate all evidential leads, including forensics, to bring those perpetrators to justice. Burglary has a significant impact on businesses and residential communities.' Andrew Walker, of the City of London police, added: 'Our fast response is vital to maximise forensic opportunities and lessen the impact on the victims. ' Being burgled is horrendous; not being able to tidy up or open your business and resume trading exacerbates this massively. 'The victim is at the heart of everything we do. Delivering them justice, whilst minimising the impact that crime has on them, is the bedrock on which City of London police forensic services operates.' Kubola will be sentenced in September.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store