It was all in the cut and thrust of political debate and it gave an all-too-seldom glimpse of a vibrant opposition. Minister McDowell went too far and after reflecting on it overnight, he righted the wrong.

The case of Leslie Agho is a much more serious matter. Dr Cormac Breathnach is one of Ireland's leading paediatricians. If he says your child potentially faces death if sent to Nigeria and if he says the best treatment is in Ireland, you would be right to believe him.

This is not the position of Minister McDowell's office. In response to expert medical advice, it photocopied a page of the British Medical Dictionary containing a definition of his condition and sent it back to the child's mother. The minister's department is entitled to have queries about the child's medical condition, it is entitled to probe further, but to respond in such a smart-alec manner is obscene.

The subject of non-nationals being deported is an emotive one. This is particularly so in the case of Nigeria, where . . . as our special investigation today shows . . . the life-expectancy is 44. But deportation is a necessary part of immigration policy and must be implemented. As we are often told, hard cases make bad law.

However, different problems arise when would-be immigrants are waiting a considerable period before a final decision is made is relation to their cases. The plight of Elizabeth Odunsi and Iyabo Nwanze, deported a year ago, would move even the most ardent supporter of deportation.

After four years living in Ireland, they were articulate spokespeople for their community in Athlone. They met the Taoiseach and other dignitaries in that capacity. By all accounts, they were intelligent and worthy contributors to Irish life. The issue is not their deportation, but the four years it took to get to that point. Their children believed they were the same as their Irish classmates and friends. After four years, they knew of no other life.

In Nigeria, their conditions are desperate.

Their seven-year-old children live in serious deprivation, in stark contrast to Athlone, which they called home for most of their young lives. In Ireland, their older siblings continue to live in hiding . . . a preferable existence, they believe, to returning to Lagos.

Twelve months ago, Archbishop Diarmuid Martin added his voice to calls from the opposition for a review of the government's deportation policy and expressed the hope that the reversal of Kunle Eluhanla's deportation to sit his Leaving Cert would lead to a "mature debate" on immigration policy.

The Church of Ireland Archbishop of Dublin, Dr John Neill, called on all politicians to take a fresh look at our immigration policy. And he went further in his new-year address when he called for unaccompanied minors and adult asylum seekers who have been here for five years or more to be allowed to stay. The debate these churchmen called for has never happened.

We have a responsibility to baby Leslie Agho. He was born here, and one of our top doctors attests that his best chance of survival is to stay here.

A year ago, the minister changed his mind on Kunle Eluhanla, allowing him to sit his exams. Leslie Agho may die unless there is a similar change of heart.