M4 minibus crash: 'Othneil will be in my heart forever', says mum
Othniel was one of two children to die after the minibus they were travelling in overturned on an M4 slip road on 11 May.Peter tells me his son was a caring boy who would help do chores around the house and wait up for him to return home after work."He has influence on everybody's life because if he sit with you he talks as if he's an old person."So if you say 'big head' he'd say 'big head, with big brains'," says Peter smiling fondly.Othneil was a member of Crowthorne FC and had dreams of becoming a professional footballer.His coach, Mitch Noble, described him as having "dazzling" footwork, and said he would be remembered for bringing joy and laughter to those around him.
Othneil had been attending a youth event at The Church of Pentecost, in Oxford, with his two older brothers and a group of young people on 11 May.They were just minutes away from home when the white Ford Transit minibus they were in overturned on a link road off the M4 near Reading at about 14:25 BST. In the chaos and confusion, Othneil's brothers could not find him, and one of them called their mother from the crash scene in a panic."He said 'Mum, Othneil's not breathing', so he was screaming calling me on the phone," says Mintaa.His parents say medics told them their son had suffered a cardiac arrest and his heart had stopped for 40 minutes.
Othneil was airlifted to the John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford in a critical condition.Despite emergency surgery, his parents say his brain damage was so severe he remained in a coma for more than three weeks before his life support was switched off."There's nothing I can do to stop it and I watched my son breathe the last [breath] and I told the nurses and then the doctors and consultants that my son is gone," Peter says.Mintaa tells me it still feels like a dream she's not woken up from."I can't believe that he just passed away just like that because he was full of life, full of energy," she says.Nineteen people were injured in total in the single vehicle crash. Six-year-old Kwaku Frimpong from Bracknell died at the scene. Five other children were seriously injured but have since been discharged from hospital.
Othneil and Kwaku's families are very close and are supporting each other through their grief.Mintaa says Kwaku was a real character who loved superheroes."Kwaku is an energetic boy and he likes Spiderman, he likes drawing he's got a lot of drawings at the school, Kwaku is someone lovely," says Mintaa.Last month a vigil was organised by Othneil's football club.Members of the community were invited to attend the event at Birch Hill Recreation Ground in Bracknell on 13 June, with candles lit and balloons released in Othniel's memory.Crowthorne FC has also raised more than £9,000 for his family.
Hundreds of mourners gathered for Othneil and Kwaku's funeral in Bracknell on 11 July.Members of the Ghanaian community, school friends and football teammates attended the service at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The BBC was given permission by both families to be there."We are so grateful for the community, for the council, for the schools and friends, the church, " says Mintaa."That day what we saw make us feel proud," adds Peter.Othniel and Kwaku's families are planning to set up a charity together in their memory, for people in need in the UK and Ghana.Thames Valley Police's serious collision investigation unit continues to investigate what caused the crash, no arrests have been made.
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The Guardian
7 minutes ago
- The Guardian
‘There's an overwhelming bond of love': the grandparents whose kids rely on them to raise a family
When I first call Rita Labiche-Robinson, a 59-year-old retired project manager, she can't chat because she is with her nine-year-old granddaughter. Rita looks after Nia two days a week – Thursdays and Fridays. Today is a Tuesday, but they live together, along with Nia's mum, and Labiche-Robinson is too in the thick of it to talk. The three of them have been in the same home since March last year, when Labiche-Robinson's daughter and granddaughter moved back from Canada. 'While they're waiting to be housed, they're staying with me,' she says. On her designated days, she gets Nia up and takes her to school – a 10-minute walk from her home in Hackney, east London. At the end of the day, she picks Nia up, prepares her dinner and reads to her before bed. 'It keeps me active,' she says. Nia teaches her grandma about TikTok. Plus, as she sees it, if someone else is being paid to look after Nia, 'then I'm missing out on my granddaughter growing up'. Labiche-Robinson is one of millions of grandparents in the UK who, because of extended life expectancy, shifts in the nature of family life and cripplingly expensive childcare, are taking on a level of grandparenting that looks a lot more like parenting. A report from 2017 estimated that 9 million British grandparents – the 'grey army' – spent an average of eight hours a week helping to care for their grandchildren. A 2023 survey found that more than half of UK grandparents provide some sort of childcare during the working week, doing more than four hours a day on average. Of course, that still leaves nearly half who don't; I know many parents whose own parents don't lift a finger, let alone wipe a bum. And why should they? They have done their parenting years – and the northern lights aren't going to see themselves. But go to any stay-and-play or music class and there will be at least one grandparent rolling play‑dough or bashing a tambourine. Push a swing and you won't be more than a metre from one of the older generation pushing another. While I am writing this article, there is a grandparent downstairs in my own home, pretending to be a monster, so I can work. My daughter's grandparents, on both sides, have provided scheduled and ad hoc care since she was a baby. My partner and I couldn't have coped – financially or psychologically – without them. Via community groups and charities, word of mouth and a Guardian callout, I have heard from scores of grandparents who look after their offspring's offspring, doing school runs, sleepovers, film nights and baking. Several have moved house to be nearer their grandchildren, or had their children move closer to them off the back of the promise of childcare. So why do they do it? The main reason for many is simple: they enjoy it. Anita Pollack and Phil Bradbury moved out of Newham, east London, after 50 years to be near their grandchildren in Essex. 'Though we had both looked forward to grandchildren, neither of us anticipated the quite overwhelming bond of love grandparents have for the grandchildren,' Pollack says. Others take pleasure in being able to help their adult children. Having never known either of his grandfathers, Alan Foster, 75, from Bognor Regis, West Sussex, spent a month living with his daughter when his grandson was born, 'so she could ease back into work gradually and I could get to know my grandson before he started nursery'. He did it again when his second grandchild was born. There is also a recognition of the challenges facing parents today. 'We are in awe of the responsibilities our children have to juggle with working, plus the cost of childcare, so we are happy to give any help,' says Martin Roach, who is retired. Along with his wife, he has looked after various grandchildren every Wednesday – from 7am to 7pm – for six years. Some grandparents I speak to say that being around young children at an older stage of life gives them the space they didn't have with their own children. Maria, a retired childminder in Manchester, says: 'We don't have the added stress or pressures we had when our children were growing up. We have more time to just enjoy being with them.' Wendy, 77, who lives in Guildford and looks after her two grandsons once a week, says: 'Grandparenting is better than being a parent. There is less anxiety.' Of course, when grandparents are so deeply invested, it can lead to friction. There may be disagreements about values. After all, even the basics of how children are looked after now differ, sometimes drastically, from the way many in this generation brought up their own children. In a 2021 study of British grandmothers, some participants were taken aback by the expectation that children be constantly supervised. In my home, as well as many others, the consumption of sugar is a common source of tension. 'She's eaten well today,' my mum has reported on occasion, before listing off a cheese toastie, cake and 'a bit of Grandad's Twix bar'. Occasionally, screen time can be a jostle – just how many episodes of Bing is too many? Several grandparents report finding the prevailing style of 'gentle parenting' tricky. Take this example, from an anonymous Guardian reader: 'I have no issue with telling them if they have done something wrong. The four-year-old pushed her friend out of the way. My response was to make her say sorry to her friend straight away; her mum would rather talk to her and ask why she did it.' If grandparents are providing free childcare, is it reasonable to expect them to follow their own children's ideals when it comes to care? They aren't, after all, professional childcare workers. Despite this, the benefits outweigh any costs for all parties, says Anna Rotkirch, a Finnish sociologist who studies population ageing and families. 'If you have a strong, close relationship to a grandparent compared with those who don't, then you have fewer problems.' In times of upheaval – when parents divorce, for instance – 'if you have at least one strong bond to a grandparent, that will be a kind of resilience booster'. An older relative's home can be a raft of stability during difficult times with your parents. Denise Burke runs the thinktank United for All Ages with her husband, Stephen Burke. She does this as well as picking up her eight-year-old grandson, Ardy, from school once a week and having him overnight. 'It's not just about the childcare, it's what Ardy gets out of it,' she says. She cites trips to the local Indian restaurant or the pub. 'He gets on well with our friends … and I think it really does children good to be mixing with all ages.' For grandparents, taking care of children brings the possibility of stimulation, cognitive sharpening and structure in a potentially amorphous life after retirement. John Perry and his wife take their 10-year-old granddaughter, Eva, to and from school, a 10-minute drive from where they live in the Nottinghamshire town of Bingham, most days. He says Eva has helped demystify supermarket self-service checkouts. ''Oh, Grandad, just give it to me,' she'll say. She'll scan it all and then go: 'Grandad, give me your card.'' John L Bazalgette, who lives in south-west London, is 89 and has 13 grandchildren. He puts the benefits of looking after the children in terms of wisdom 'mutually developed between the different generations … Discovering that we may have similar feelings, triggered by trying to belong in a shared fragmented world, can lead to deep experiences of attachment and love.' While there have been suggestions that caring for grandchildren keeps people young, a 2022 study suggested that any 'rejuvenating effect' from looking after grandchildren is a myth. The idea of whether care feels like a burden is central. Carole Easton, a psychotherapist and the chief executive of the Centre for Ageing Better, says that, among her grandparent friends, 'there is a sense of obligation: 'I'm not sure how they would manage if we didn't do this''. It's not, she says, a complaint as much as 'an acknowledgment that there isn't a genuine choice in this'. Many grandparents will still be juggling their work lives, too. Olga Grünwald is a researcher based in the Netherlands who looks at the positive and negative experiences of grandparenting. She says that for this new 'sandwich generation' of grandparents balancing work and childcare, 'everyone says: 'Oh, it's gratifying,' but then there is a lot of burden and obligation as well'. An English teacher, who wishes to remain anonymous, says she suggested having her three grandchildren round every Friday night, as it means getting to have regular time with them. 'My job is very demanding and sometimes I am very tired at the end of the working week,' she says. 'But my grandchildren are just such a joy that they really lift me up – before I eventually collapse on the couch!' According to a small survey of grandparents by the childcare app Bubble in 2022, one in four reported retiring earlier to provide childcare. 'That's not a choice,' says Easton. 'We are losing older people from the workplace, which is causing damage to our economy and to the workplace in terms of experience and knowledge.' Many grandparents I speak to report frustration at slipping boundaries and supposedly part‑time arrangements becoming full-time. I'm sure I have sometimes over‑asked my parents and they have been too kind to say no. One anonymous retired grandmother says of her daughter: 'I have enabled her to earn a good wage. I received no payment of any description.' Frances Stadlen, a 76-year-old writer, gardener and baker in west London, had a discussion with her eldest son as soon as he said he was starting a family, explaining what her boundaries would be regarding childcare. Having been a stay-at-home mother when her children were growing up, she says: 'I was not willing to enter into any regular childcare commitment.' That is not to say she doesn't welcome her grandchildren into her home – her house is filled with toys and books – and she gives them her undivided attention when they are there, which, for each set of grandchildren, generally works out at one afternoon a week. However, she says: 'I see this phase of my life as a significant opportunity to achieve things I put to one side at an earlier phase. In society as a whole, I observe an undervaluation or active devaluation of the legitimate aspirations of older women to live disentangled from the domestic sphere, should they so wish.' Some grandparents report not having time for their own interests, or feeling selfish when they take time for themselves. Perry and his wife, Veronica, often travel to their static caravan in France. 'Rather than going for a long period, because of these commitments, we'll just go for a week at a time.' Not in the school holidays, though. 'We're just around to help out, you know, as and when we're needed.' Of course, grandparents wouldn't need to be so heavily involved if childcare costs weren't so prohibitively expensive. The cost of childcare in the UK is among the highest in the world. According to the children's charity Coram, summer holiday clubs this year cost parents an average of £1,075 a child – an average increase of 4% on 2024, with some areas seeing rises as high as 13%. If grandparents are backed into a corner because of the lack of affordable childcare, is something lost? Perhaps. While Paula Carter, a 59-year-old retired nurse, adores her grandchildren, 'and all the care means I have a close and loving relationship with them', she also feels that she misses out on 'just being the granny'. In Finland, where childcare is subsidised based on income and family size and capped at about €300 (£260) a month, 'there's this expression that grandchildren are the dessert of life … the benefits without the burden', says Rotkirch. 'Very intensive grandchild care is not always ideal for the grandparents or even a grandchild. When we talk about caring for grandchildren in the Nordics, it's an evening, or it's when the child is ill for a few days, but it's not every day for four hours.' High-quality, affordable childcare would mean that the older generation could swoop in with their stickers, sweets and stories about life before the internet out of choice rather than obligation. It would allow them to enjoy time with their grandchildren rather than being called upon to plug the gaps of a system not fit for purpose – which, according to most of the grandparents I speak to for this piece, can be very tiring. I know my parents love hanging out with my daughter and get something different and rewarding from taking care of her without her parents around. But they are no doubt glad that we now have more of an ad hoc arrangement than the previous one, which involved regular, full days: scrambling eggs at 8am and keeping a toddler amused until past 6pm. Easton, who regularly cares for her grandson and loves to do so, says she often jokes with her other grandparent friends that 'a woman shouldn't be allowed to have a baby until she's checked with the grandparents first'. The serious point here is that grandparents are now so often part of the caring package for young children that perhaps this should be a consideration. When Labiche-Robinson's daughter and granddaughter eventually move out, she will still be getting involved, she says: she is invested in raising Nia. 'She's my granddaughter. So I'm very attached her – to all of them, my children and my grandchildren … while I'm here, I might as well help the family.' Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.
TTG
2 hours ago
- TTG
'Travel agents' knowledge of the range of options Turkey offers is crucial to us'
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Daily Mail
6 hours ago
- Daily Mail
Grieving British mother of Air India crash victim tells of her agony after being sent the WRONG body
A grieving mother whose son died in the Air India plane disaster travelled thousands of miles to collect his remains - only to be sent home with the wrong body. Amanda Donaghey lost her son Fiongal Greenlaw-Meek, 39, and his husband, Jamie, 45, when the Boeing 787 Dreamliner bound for London Gatwick crashed just seconds after takeoff on June 12 - claiming the lives of 260 people. The couple had been returning to Britain after celebrating their wedding anniversary in India when the plane unexpectedly crashed, killing all but one passenger onboard. The aircraft had turned into a huge fireball on impact but Ms Donaghey, 66, was determined to bring back her son's remains, handing over a sample of her blood in a bid to find matching DNA, The Sunday Times reports. Things did not look promising, however, and three days came and went without a word from officials handling the bodies. In the meantime, Jamie's remains were identified and sent home to the UK. But just as the mother was losing hope, they got back to her with news that there had been a 'match' for Fiongal. Ms Donaghey was relieved - the discovery meant she could bring her son's remains back and lay them next to his husband's. The family set about organising funerals for the two men with the mother assured on her return to the UK that Fiongal's remains were in the casket. Then, a heartbreaking development. The British coroner had conducted another DNA test which found that the remains in her son's coffin were not his after all. Ms Donaghey said that the identity of the remains is still unknown, describing the confusion as 'appalling'. Fiongal studied at the Royal College of Art and went on to work as a fashion designer, fronting design houses in London and Asia. He then got into sprituality, yoga and reiki and established the Wellness Foundry, dedicated to such topics, in 2018. The business founder married Jamie in 2022 and had taken to social media to describe their 'magical experience' in India the night before they caught the fateful flight. They even posted a short clip from the airport departure lounge just hours ahead of the journey back, which would see them sit in seats 22A and 22B, bidding farewell to the country. His mother was not aware he was on the plane, believing Fiongal to have flown back to the UK two days prior. After taking a ride on her horse, she got a phone call from Fiongal's father who told her the pair had been travelling back on the aircraft. Two days later, Ms Donaghey took a tricky trip to India from her home in the south of France, where she had moved 22 years ago. She was greeted by a British High Commission crisis management team on her arrival in Ahmedabad in Gujarat. Despite being exhausted, the mother headed straight to the nearby Civil Hospital to take a DNA test in a converted classroom. Ms Donaghey then paid a visit BJ Medical College hostel, which had been hit by the Air India plane, but was not allowed to go through the final cordon as the aircraft's tail was still lodged in a building there. 'It was like a bomb site,' she said. 'You would think it was from a war scene, but there were still these small birds twittering.' Also out there was Miten Patel who was determined to bring home his parents Ashok and Shobhana, who had been married since the 70s. The financial advisor and retired microbiologist had been in the country for a yatra, a religious visit geared towards helping people to find peace when they die. Ashok and Shobhana, pictured, had been married since the 70s and were in the country for a yatra, a religious visit geared towards helping people to find peace when they die Mr Patel was handed several of his parents' items including Ashok's shirt and Shobhana's swan necklace. After successfully retrieving the couple's remains, he later discovered 'other remains' in the casket said to contain his mother's body. He was finally able to bury her last week, describing the successful end to the process as a 'miracle'. Ms Donaghey has been going through a similar ordeal, but one that remains unresolved. After initially being informed of the 'match' on June 20, she spoke with the British High Commission and hospital representatives, as well as an Avon and Somerset Police officer, acting as a disaster victim investigator. She said: 'I was told they had found part of Fiongal but not all of him. I said I wanted to stay until they had finished looking.' But on her return to the crash site, Ms Donaghey was handed the devastating news that there was nothing left to be found in the wreckage. Things took an even more concerning turn when she was told about Shobhana's case, which had seen various remains get mixed up. On June 28, she headed back to Gatwick on an Air India flight in a bid to get Fiongal's remains to a British hospital with better preserving standards than those in India. They were handed over to Dr Fiona Wilcox, senior coroner for Inner West London, and in the meantime Ms Donaghey was given support by her sister in Cambridgeshire, as well as police family liaison officers. Six days after her return, the mother was handed the heart-wrenching news that the remains in her son's coffin were not his at all. At a meeting attended by Fiongal's father, sister and brother, family liaison officers said: 'We don't have Fiongal. We have carried out the DNA tests and we do not have Fiongal.' Amanda said: 'I had my doubts but to be told that was heartbreaking.' Despite realising that their ambition to bury Fiongal and Jamie alongside one another was now impossible, Ms Donaghey and her family have not given up on trying to locate his remains, ringing the Foreign Office each day looking for answers. Some 53 of the 242 people on the ill-fated flight were British but, as many were of Indian heritage and thus buried in the country of the crash, just 12 sets of remains were delivered back to the UK. The remaining 10 were all matches, but it is still not known for sure whether the identities of the bodies that stayed in India are correct. James Healy-Pratt, an international aviation lawyer and partner with Keystone Law, is representing 20 bereaved families and confirmed they were in contact with Sir Keir Starmer, the Prime Minister's office and Foreign Secretary David Lammy. A government spokesperson said: 'We understand that this is an extremely distressing time for the families, and our thoughts remain with them. Formal identification of bodies is a matter for the Indian authorities. 'We continue to liaise with the government of Gujarat and the government of India on behalf of the Inner West London senior coroner to support the coronial process.'
