The Irish immigration provided me with a one-night stay in a hotel, for which I am most grateful. However, the house itself was almost brought down by Great's erratic behaviour. I had to kneel down and beg one of the staff of the hotel that my son is suffering from acute autism and that they should understand. I got a huge sigh in reply.

Worse still, my ailing son keeps tugging at people's clothes even along the streets. As you know, he was exhibiting this behaviour in Ireland and had since improved notably, as a result of the treatment he was undergoing. However, it suddenly resurfaced again this morning.

Civilised people of your country do understand quite alright when Great displays his autismpropelled traits, but I, in my anguish, do not know how to explain this to the people here in our benighted country.

A few hours ago, he was weeping profusely, saying he wanted to catch a glimpse at "Bus Eireann." He is so much in love with Dublin Bus and the kangaroo logo. I had to take him to a certain bus station, but along the way, he suddenly wriggled out of my grip and ran to embrace a certain gentleman. Before I could explain that he was autistic, the man struck fiercely at my little boy, calling him a pick-pocket! Oh my God, where are you?

I suffer terribly as every day passes, as Great's future remains quite bleak. I have emaciated terribly. The decision made by the Irish authorities to deport my autistic son was a harsh one that contravened his right to live.

With the way things are going, judging by his worsening condition and the lack of treatment in Nigeria, it is certain that we will remain in the streets and Great, ending up in a psychiatric home for the mentally retarded where inmates are given several strokes of the cane daily and fed with a wretched meal unfit for beasts. I fear for Great's life, as I still cannot see any silver lining in the cloud.

This morning, the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) sent one of their award-winning reporters named Sam Olukoya to interview me in Lagos. He was so downcast on seeing Great's behaviour and concluded that I had better think of where to take the boy to, as "there is no treatment and nothing at all in Nigeria to address your son's disease." He confirmed my earlier fears and that is, that Great will be labelled an offspring of evil spirit . . .and would face both physical and mental torture throughout his life.

I am contemplating taking Great out of Nigeria to Ghana, to see if the country may have treatment for the disease. However, a certain medical doctor confirmed to me that my efforts shall be a mere waste of time, as according to him, all African countries are handicapped in the treatment of this "strange" disease. Now, where do I begin?

I am being tormented day in day out and even as I type this letter to you, Great is being restrained from coming in by the muscular owner of the internet cafe. Worse still, his asthma inhaler is absent. I placed it in a box the gardai said they posted through DHL . . . and has not since arrived.

Please, thank the Clonakilty Great Justice Group for me. My heart also goes to the Residents Against Racism, Autism Association in Ireland and a host of the TDs and councillors who took time off their busy schedules and stood firmly to ensure Great got justice. You had the moral victory.

My health is failing me, but I do not have any ill feelings towards Ireland. That is the only country that Great and Melissa have ever known . . . and they still sing to me their Killarney school prayers that Mrs Daly taught them. It pains that one poor, helpless and vulnerable child has been condemned to death by those who do not know or appreciate the pain of motherhood. It is sad.

Sincerely, Olivia Agbonlahor (Mrs) This letter has been slightly edited for space reasons