Ann Pepper misses her friends.
68-year-old mother of six and a wheelchair user for most of her life, Dubliner Ann has spoken to Independent.ie about the ‘hell’ of life during the pandemic and how she misses her second family at the Irish Wheelchair Association’s centre in Lucan.
With many of their services curtailed during Covid-19, and face-to-face fundraising efforts that would normally bring in more than €300,000 a year cancelled, the organisation is playing catch-up in a bid to raise the €3m they need to function annually.
For people like Ann, it’s a service – and a way of life – that cannot be allowed to fail.
Having contracted polio at just ten-months-old, Ann spent the vast majority of her childhood in state care, separated from her family.
At 17-years-old, she moved into her own flat in Clontarf in Dublin and started to attend a local disco, organised by the Irish Wheelchair Association.
More than 50 years later, the IWA continues to play a central role in the lives of Ann and many, many others with physical disabilities in Ireland.
“It’s family,” Ann says. “Everybody is treated equally, not only by the members but by the people who work at the centre.
“They’re very good to us. They’d pick up your medication if you wanted them to. If you couldn’t get out somewhere they’d bring you, whether it’s to hospital or anywhere else. If those buses weren’t running, there’d be no IWA. We’re just one huge family.”
The global pandemic as a result of Covid-19 has had a devastating effect on Ann’s life.
With her children all grown up and working, Ann has been living alone for the last 11 years and struggles to keep her spirits up without the promise of a trip to see her friends at the IWA centre in Lucan.
“It’s absolutely hell. Lonely,” Ann – who has also lost two of her six children within the last three years – says.
“I have three sons who are working, and my daughter works too. I could be on my own for two or three weeks at a time.”
Ann is a keen Boccia player and is looking forward to the day that she can return to a full house in Lucan and team up with her friends once again.
She knows, however, that the future of the IWA will depend on the kindness of the public and online donations.
“If they haven’t got the finances to maintain those buses (and help people get to the centres), it’d be a huge shame. If I won the Lotto I would live on my pension and give the IWA every penny of that money!
“I play Boccia. They supply the transport for us, and a lunch for us. They look after us and I wouldn’t have met the lovely people I’ve met only for going to Lucan. It has brightened up my life in a wonderful way.
“I miss it terribly. I really, really do.”
Despite the difficulty in maintaining face-to-face contact, Ann does speak to her friends at the IWA on the phone and regularly receives care packs from the organisation. These packs contain any relevant information on Covid-19, activities like word searchs and crosswords, and items that have been sourced by staff from local companies by way of donation.
“I know I can always pick up the phone and ring IWA. They ring me, they ring every one of us. How they’re keeping up with phone bills I’ll never know,” she says.
“They send us out parcels of biscuits, pasta, pasta sauce. Jars of coffee. Little gifts that people donate like facial wipes and little bottles of make-up. Face masks, you name it. They have been keeping us going, they have been giving us hope, but I wish the enemy that came into the world would just disappear.”
While Ann says neighbours did call to check on her during the early days of the lockdown, her doorbell has gone largely quiet.
“Only IWA are there to help. They have done stuff for me that… If I ring them up and tell them I need something, it’s there within an hour. I couldn’t thank them enough.
“Since I was 17, they have been my family.
“We are a family, the IWA and people with disabilities, and it doesn’t matter what disability you have. They don’t see you in a wheelchair, they see you as a person. And that’s the proper way we should be treated, not as something that should be hidden away from society.”
She remains hopeful that, soon, the bus will be there to pick her up outside her house and bring her to Lucan.
“This story isn’t about me,” she insists, however. “It’s about the IWA and what it means to all the people who go to it. I’m just living for the day we can play boccia in the one room instead of three people being in a room.
“Living in a bubble is not life, but we will get back to normal. It will happen. I feel so positive about that but we have to get the funds to keep it going until it happens.”
Regrettably, the Irish Wheelchair Association has had to cancel its annual street collection because of the COVID-19 pandemic. Funds raised from this activity is invested in delivering essential services for people with physical disabilities such as wheelchair accessible buses, clubs for children with disabilities and its local centres.
Its new appeal, called ‘Without you we’re stuck’, is highlighting that without public support vital services for local people with physical disabilities would not be possible. Irish Wheelchair Association is appealing to people to make a donation by visiting iwa.ie.
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