His death is our shame
Otieno case shows the awful cost of not prioritizing mental health reform
Irvo Otieno should be alive today. That the 28-year-old is not stands as an indictment of how Virginia routinely mishandles individuals in crisis and why the mental health system demands sweeping reform rather than the slow-and-steady approach to change that has marked the last few years.
Otieno died March 6 after Henrico County sheriff ’s deputies and staff members at Central State Hospital in Dinwiddie County piled on top of him as he was processed into the facility. That he was even there was a mistake, according to his mother Caroline Ouko.
According to a timeline by the Richmond Times-Dispatch, Ouko contacted Otieno’s psychiatrist the morning of March 3 because her son was experiencing a mental health crisis. She asked that someone specialized in handling such cases be dispatched to her home so that Otieno might receive help.
But Henrico County police arrived on the scene after a neighbor reported a possible burglary in the area. Ouko asked that the 10-12 officers who responded not use stun guns to take him into custody; Otieno was instead placed under a protective order and transported to Henrico Doctors’ Hospital.
There, he became violent and was transported to Henrico Jail, where he was charged with striking officers, disorderly conduct and destruction of property. His mother told reporters he spent the weekend in jail without his medication.
At Henrico General District Court on March 6, Ouko explained Otieno’s mental health issues, which included bipolar and anxiety disorders, and previous hospitalization. She asked that her son not be transferred to Central State Hospital.
But he was sent there anyway. Otieno resisted processing and, as video footage from the hospital made public this week shows, is subdued by a phalanx of Henrico sheriff ’s deputies and hospital staff.
At one point as many as 10 people pile on Otieno, who was sizable at 6-feet 2-inches tall and 270 pounds, but also in handcuffs and leg irons. The deputies and medical staff hold Otieno down for 11 minutes before recognizing the seriousness of the situation, when they begin chest compressions and belatedly call for an ambulance.
Seven Henrico County deputies and three hospital workers have been charged with second-degree murder in the case. While some of the facts in this case are undeniable, others come from Otieno’s family or from prosecutors. Those charged will have their day in court and the criminal justice system will determine their culpability and their fate.
But Virginia cannot help but look at that timeline and see all the critical moments in which the outcome could have been different.
Had mental health professionals been dispatched to the scene.
Had he been successfully admitted to Henrico Doctors’ Hospital.
Had he been administered his medication while at Henrico Jail.
Had the judge listened to his mother’s concerns about transferring him to Central State Hospital.
And, most importantly, had Virginia done more in recent years to reform, expand and strengthen its mental health system, developed teams that can respond to a crisis without law enforcement, and ensured access to care to those who need it.
The commonwealth has for too long treated mental health care as a luxury rather than a necessity. It has been slow to bolster services where people need them the most, such as in jail, and for people who need them the most, especially the indigent. Even when cracks in the system are wide as chasms, too many people have turned away.
That cannot continue. It must not continue.
Specific people may be held liable in Otieno’s death, but the failure here is ours as a commonwealth. We didn’t do enough to protect Otieno and people like him who need a friendly face and a helping hand in their most desperate hour.
Irvo Otieno should be alive today. That he is not is on us — all of us — and his death should be the catalyst for the type of comprehensive action that Virginia has long needed and has too long failed to deliver.