It is not accessible by road. The only way to get to Belekete, a ranch community bordering the world famous Obudu Ranch Resort, is by foot and it takes some seven hours or more of mountain climbing, rushing streams crossing and more, reports Nicholas Kalu
The semi-temperate weather endures all year round giving the area the serenity of an average European city. The clouds are almost permanently locked in kisses with the mountains. The image is simply breath-taking. Beauty, beauty and beauty everywhere so much that some say they feel closer to God in this environ. But life here is not beautiful. It is brutish. Hellish may not be out of place to describe living here. It is the survival of the fittest.
Welcome to Belekete, a ranch community some seven hours on foot away from the world famous Obudu Ranch Resort in Obalinku Local Government Area of Cross River State. At the resort, guests live in abundance and have almost everything they need at their beck and call. Belekete is the opposite. In Belekete, dejection walks on all fours, daring residents to send it packing. It is like their king and they its reluctant subjects, powerless to change the status quo.
In Belekete, the opportunity to savour the good weather is like heaven. This apart, everyday is like living in hell. It is not a place, where visitors flock. Residents are not eager to go out because going out is a hell of a task. Nature tucks them away among the mountains and makes it difficult even for help to come. As soon as you leave the Obudu Ranch Resort, the Global System for Mobile (GSM) telecommunication ceases to work.
Nothing is enough here, except the good weather. Homes are nothing to write home about. Diseases are rampant. Death is not uncommon. Expectant mothers die regularly. But no one, not even the government, has statistics of the maternal mortality.
Homes in this community made up of eight villages are red brick houses with either zinc or thatched roofs. No electricity, except one compound with a generator. There are no schools. There is no pipe borne water too.
The journey to Belekete starts from the top of the Obudu Ranch Resort. But unlike transporting oneself to the top of the ranch where one has the luxury of choosing among the cable car, a vehicle or a motorcycle, the only mode of getting to this community is by foot.
This is where the problem begins. Members of the community pleaded with this reporter not to embark on the “risky” journey. Some who embarked never got back, they said, as it involved climbing mountains and descending valleys, crossing rushing streams, rocks and other obstacles. All their entreaties fell on deaf ears. If anything they only served to deepen curiosity. After all it was just walking and even if it took a full day, one would get there. Belekete must be reached. Confidence was brimming.
So, accompanied by a guide from the community and a couple of others, the descent of the first mountain began. After about 45 minutes’ descent, one person returned. He was carried back to the top of the ranch by youths from the community.
About 30 minutes after, this reporter began to see some sense in the warnings that were given to him earlier. The mountainside was very steep and slippery and a any mistake would mean plunging to a very horrible death, likely that one’s body may never be found.
But at this point, it was not really clear what would hurt most – a feeling of failure for aborting a mission or a bruised ego, having to come back to meet people who would just have that “I told you so” look on their faces. About five more hours of this arduous journey lay ahead.
After another 30 minutes’ descent, the guide, others and this reporter arrived at a rushing stream. After managing to cross it without being swept away (the rocks at the bottom were really slippery). Two more steep and slippery mountains were climbed; two dense forests and three more streams were crossed and several small hills descended before arriving at Oshenokpa, the first village about five hours later. From there, another one hour through a difficult terrain brought the team to the headquarters of Belekete.
Throughout the trip, not once did this reporter believe the day was going to be his last on earth. It was a near death experience. At least so it seemed to be. But this was just half of the journey. One still had to go back the same way. Thinking about it was traumatic. A comfortable mattress provided by the community head to rest for the night did not provide any comfort at all. Sleep was full of nightmares of what could happen on the way back the following day, given that all energy was expended arriving there. It had taken just over seven hours of life-risking journey to reach the community. Leaving the ranch at noon, the team had arrived a little after 7pm.
After fervent prayers to God and with quotes from Mandela like, “It always seems impossible until it is done”, and Bob Marley “You never know how strong you are until it is your only choice” filling this reporter’s head, the journey back to the ranch began at 6 am. In many places, you would be looking down at the cloud beneath you. Also at many points, you could not see far in front of you because you were engulfed in the cloud. The return journey was more difficult. It took 10 hours to get back to the ranch. It was a true manifestation of mind over muscle. Drinking from streams along the way, soaking gari with a relaxer container found in the forest with water from the stream, resting severally along the way (even lying on the ground, given that fear of snakes and other wild animals had dissipated), the team managed to reach the ranch resort.
This reporter’s only joy was that he was not carried throughout the journey. It was a miracle. But for the people of Belekete, it is no miracle. It is what they face every day.
Clifford, the guide, was very helpful. He did not break a sweat . He just had a patient look on his face and words of encouragement to put one step in front of the other.
Health wise, the people are deprived. In many cases, it was gathered that many had died of malaria because they had no access to proper healthcare.
Though they have two health centres, these are grossly underequipped and undermanned. The two have just one member of staff each. They can only offer first aid or deal with minor issues. If there is an expectant woman with labour complications, or someone is gravely ill or severely injured, such a person is carried all through the way to the ranch from where they are taken to where they can have access to proper healthcare. Many never made it.
The people have constructed baskets which they hang on their backs to carry expectant women, who have complications. Wooden stretchers are used to carry other incapacitated people who need healthcare.
What is most important to the people, they say, is a road that would aid transportation in and out of the area. Besides, they require health facilities.
Chief Achagba Augustine Akwo, an indigene of Belekete, holds a National Diploma in Community Health with over 21 years’ experience. He mans one of the health centres. In fact, he is the only member of the staff.
He said: “We have no roads and we don’t have man power to keep the health facilities working. We don’t have enough drugs and equipment. The two health facilities we have are not well-equipped and up to standard and so we don’t efficiently carry out our health service the way we were taught to do in our various schools of health technologies. We would be very happy if the government would intervene, especially in the area of road construction and the employment of staff and equip them.
“When a woman is in labour and we see that she will not be to deliver safely, we refer such cases and to refer a pregnant woman in that condition under labour, we weave a basket made up of cane ropes and the woman will be put in that basket and carried on the back and she will be backing the carrier. The woman will be hung on the back like a sack and brought to the ranch, which is a distance of about 20km which one would use up to six to eight hours through the forest and across running waters, mountainous areas and other dangerous terrains. Many times they do not make it and they die and are carried back.
“Let me tell you that even when policemen come here to keep peace, at the end of the day, we have to convey the policemen on our backs to bring them back to the ranch. Even you as you have come, we are not sure you will reach and go back on your own without being carried. Apart from the pregnant women, other casualties who have serious problems, we put them on a wooden stretcher and carry them to the ranch. Many times they fall on the road and somebody who was already in critical condition would sustain a secondary injury. We need a road so that people can even have access to the place.”
Akuo went on:“Belekete is a ranch community and it gave out the ranch to the government and that is why they kept off the place, allowing the place to be managed by government. That is why they are inside that hole there. The government should look into their problems, especially health. The people are dying. No vehicle can get to the place, not even a bicycle. We just attend to antenatal patients and treat minor ailments.”
Kechi, who is from the area, also said: “We don’t have hospitals and access roads and we lack many other amenities there, even schools. We just have a primary school there. Each time they send teachers there due to the roughness of the road, they don’t go.
“It is by God’s race that we are living. It is only when there is immunisation that health workers go there. Some of our people are health personnel. So, they go there and collect the immunisation and bring it as the other health workers cannot come. We have a health centre there but it is nothing. If somebody is in labour or other serious ailment, you cannot operate anybody from there because there is no equipment to be used there. They only deal with minor health issues there like cuts. If there is any such problem, we carry the person on our back to ranch here; then take the person down to the hospital. It is very risky and many time people die along the way, then we take the dead person back.
“First we need access roads, then hospitals. We have two health centres and two health officers that are far from adequate. Health personnel can’t go there because they cannot because of the terrain. Many women die due to labour problems. Just very recently, a mother died after child birth and after that the baby died a few days later because they could not get access to proper health service. Government should help us and take care of us because we are equally Cross Riverians. We go herbal most times but having proper healthcare would be the best thing for us.”
Francis Ajie, a farmer, said: “We are totally an enclave people that don’t have any health facility as far as I know. It is just that some of our people have struggled to be health practitioners, like the health officer you spoke with and helping his own people to at least give them first aid, which is not even enough. We are like forgotten people even though we contribute so much to the development of the state and country. But in terms of welfare, we have nothing. Deaths are rampant because of lack of health facilities. Even common malaria kills people there. Road has not even been dreamt of reaching this place. Something needs to be done urgently. You have three big mountains to cross over a distance of about 20kms. There are wild animals on the way as it falls within the reserve. You can meet things that can even eat you up on the way. Many people have gone missing and their bodies have not been found between this ranch and the village. We need a road first because even if you build a hospital, how do you transfer drugs there?”
A mother, Mary Keche, also complained: “When a woman is pregnant and is struggling to put to birth and since we don’t have any health service here, we would carry her on the back and carry her to the ranch. We carry them in a basket tied to the back and other times we carry her on the head. We are suffering here. If somebody has a serious sickness here, there is no way for us. That is how our people die. Imagine the distance you came from the ranch. I believe you don’t need any further explanation to see what we suffer. It is not easy. Let the government give us hospital and road. If we had road at least we would not suffer like this.”
The Clan Head of Belekete, Chief Ogweshi Francis Ngweli, who could not give this reporter the community’s population, said: “People have been dying because we don’t have healthcare here and there is no assistance of carrying people up to the ranch. Pregnant women and sick children have been dying. I am sure you have seen it with your two naked eyes with the almost eight hours you have passed through. We need facilities. The only health officer we have here, if anything takes him out that means we would not even have anyone to attend us even for the small ailments. In the past weeks, my people have been dying.
“We have appealed to the government but because there is no motorable road, the government has not been able to give us some sort of assistance. We are begging they should help us. The place is so backward in all in the sense that there is no road. There is no pipe borne water and we back people who are sick all the way to the ranch. And because of that we wish the government to help us with a road and assist us with proper healthcare facilities.”
Back in Calabar, the state capital, a senior government official, who does not want his name in print, said he never knew that a place like Belekete existed in the state.
His words: “Are you serious there is a community in the state that you can trek to on foot for that number of hours to get to? You are not saying the truth. To be honest with you, I have never heard of it. Did you say it was a ranch community? Does such a place exist in this state? Let me see what I can find out about the place.”
For now, life goes on in Belekete. There are diseases, deaths and all manner of pains amid a temperate weather which gives the area the phony image of an average European city.
