Former BCOS union chairman Kayode Olagunju recalls how salary delays forced him into kabukabu and nearly led to him being mistaken for a kidnapper.
Former Broadcasting Corporation of Oyo State (BCOS), staff member and former union chairman, Kayode Olagunju, has shared a personal experience from his years at the organisation, recalling how irregular salary payments once forced him to seek alternative means of supporting his family after work.
His experience, he said, remains a painful reminder of the pressures workers can face when their regular income becomes uncertain.
Olagunju’s recollection comes against the backdrop of ongoing concerns surrounding the welfare of BCOS workers and pensioners, including complaints relating to salary delays, deductions and retirement benefits.
His account offers a personal perspective on the human impact of the issues surrounding the state-owned media organisation.
In a statement shared on his Facebook page, Olagunju recounts how he resorted to operating his private car as a commercial vehicle after work to make ends meet, an experience that eventually saw him mistaken for a kidnapper.
Reflecting on the incident years later, he draws attention to the struggles faced by workers and pensioners and calls for greater focus on the people behind the institution.
Below is the full statement:
I WAS MISTAKEN FOR A KIDNAPPER
Sometimes, when I look at what is happening to some of the staff and pensioners of BCOS today, I remember an experience from years ago that still brings tears to my eyes.
There was a period when salaries were not coming as they should. But whether salary came or not, life continued. My family still needed food. Bills still had to be paid. Children still needed attention. And responsibilities did not wait for the next salary alert.
One day, after closing from work, I picked up my Honda and drove to Iwo Road.
I decided to do kabukabu after work.
I wasn't doing it because I suddenly became a commercial driver. I was simply trying to survive and provide for my family. I would pick passengers from Iwo Road, take them towards Ojoo, drop them and return to look for another passenger before going home.
That was how desperate things could become when a worker had responsibilities but no regular salary to depend on.
Then something frightening happened.
After dropping some passengers, I was stopped.
Before I could properly understand what was happening, I was being mistaken for a kidnapper.
The reason?
I was driving a very neat Honda car with full air conditioning, and apparently, the vehicle looked too big and too sophisticated to be used for kabukabu.
I tried to explain myself, but the situation had already become frightening.
And then my friend Adedeji Kamorudeen Haji Kay came in.
Komo's intervention was what saved me before things could get worse and before I was eventually allowed to go.
I remember that experience vividly.
I had gone out to look for money to feed my family, and I nearly became a victim of suspicion simply because I was trying to survive.
That day, I went home shaken.
I remember crying.
And even after all these years, thinking about it still brings tears to my eyes.
But today, when I look at the situation surrounding some BCOS workers and pensioners, that old experience means something different to me.
Because I understand what it means when a worker has a family depending on him or her and the expected income is uncertain.
Recent reports have highlighted complaints from BCOS workers about delayed salaries, deductions and welfare, while pensioners and veterans have also raised concerns about retirement benefits and the wider condition of the corporation.
They are fathers.
They are mothers.
They are husbands and wives.
They are people paying school fees, house rent, medical bills and feeding their families.
They are workers who have spent years behind microphones, cameras, editing desks, studios, transmitters and administrative offices helping BCOS fulfil its public broadcasting responsibility.
And the pensioners?
Many of them have already given their productive years to the institution.
They should not have to spend their retirement worrying about how to survive.
My experience taught me something very simple:
When a worker is not paid, desperation can push that person into situations nobody ever imagined.
I was lucky.
I had my car.
I had the strength to do kabukabu after work.
And, most importantly, I had a friend like Komo who intervened when I needed help.
But what about the worker who has no car?
What about the mother who has no side hustle?
What about the pensioner who has no strength to start another job?
What about the family waiting at home for someone who has already exhausted every possible means of survival?
That is why the conversation about BCOS should go beyond management, unions, politics and administration.
At the centre of everything should be the human being.
BCOS is not just a building.
It is not just radio frequencies and television signals.
It is not just a government institution.
BCOS is the people who built it, the people currently keeping it alive and the pensioners who gave their best years to it.
I remember being mistaken for a kidnapper simply because I was trying to make a little extra money to feed my family.
Today, when I hear stories of workers struggling with salary and welfare issues, I remember that young man who drove to Iwo Road after work, not to commit a crime, but simply to put food on his family's table.
I survived that day because Komo came to my rescue.
I pray that today's BCOS workers will not have to face situations that force them to choose between their dignity and feeding their families.
And I pray that those who have retired after decades of service will enjoy the dignity they deserve.
Behind every salary delay is a family waiting.
Behind every deduction is a worker's expectation.
Behind every pensioner is a lifetime of service.
Let us remember the people behind the numbers.
BCOS workers are human beings first.#BCOS #BCOSWorkers #BCOSPensioners #WorkersWelfare #Ibadan #OyoState #WorkersRights #LabourRights #SaveBCOS #JusticeForWorkers
