By Emmanuel Fashakin, MD, Esq.
December 2023, Lagos Nigeria.
Few days after Christmas, I stirred awake at dawn and something felt different. It was just a few days past my 67th birthday, but I felt the fire was gone — like someone jabbed a needle into my balloon. I knew there and then it was time to slow down, and begin the handover.
January 2024, on returning to New York, I visited my local Social Security office to apply for Retirement benefits. They told me in person application no longer done after the pandemic. I was given instructions to apply online. I did. And they called me. They even gave me option of backdating my retirement benefits for six months, since I had been qualified. I approved the backdate immediately she told me the amount of the lump sum payment.
February 29, 2024. I finally decided to see if I could collect my pension for the four years of work I did in the UK 1989-1993. In 1991, a friend had advised me to opt out of SERPS. That means a private company, rather than government, will be custodian of my pension money. I chose Barclays Bank. I reckoned that at retirement, I would be back in Nigeria, and it would be easier to collect my money from a private company, rather than dealing with government bureaucracy.
My last correspondence from Barclays Life Assurance Company Limited, Romford Road, London was dated May 1995, almost 29 years ago. It was sent to an address I moved from exactly the same month that letter was received. We had lost contact since then. Not good.
In that statement, I was informed that the closing value of my pension as of April 1995 was £5377.29. I called the number on the statement. It was out of service. So I went on Google. I searched for the company. I got three different UK numbers from three different sources. All the numbers were out of service. Then an idea occurred to me.
I googled the phone number of Barclays BANK on Romford Road, London. Finally, I got a phone which worked. I went through the agony of being asked to put my sort code, account number, etc. I had none. I kept pressing * and 0 etc in response, and bellowing “Customer service”, “Representative” etc. After almost fifteen minutes, a live person picked the phone. Glory!
I apologized to the gentleman. No, I am not Barclays Bank customer. But I contracted out of SERP thirty-three years ago, and my pension is with a company called Barclays Life Assurance Company Limited. Could he be kind enough to give me the phone number to the branch of Barclays dealing with pensions and life insurance?
He was gone for a few minutes. He came back with a phone number. I called that number and after reciting my tale, the lady told me that I was in wrong place, but she would find me the number for the right department.
Eight minutes later, I was making perhaps the tenth call of the morning. I had to go through the prompts again. This one was gory. They wanted to know whether someone had died. No. I am still alive. Finally someone picked the call. No, you are in the wrong department. This is private pension plan? Yes. I will find you the number.
My next call was more joyful. The reason all the phone numbers for Barclays Life Assurance Company Limited was not working was because that company is no longer in existence. The new company is called “Reassure Company, UK”. Yes you have reached Reassure. Finally! I was elated. But my hopes were soon dashed.
I gave the Policy Number on the statement sent to me in 1995. Nope. I gave the Customer Reference Number. Nope. I gave my name, spelled by the letter. Nope. I gave my Date of Birth. Nope. This is reassure? Yes. Successor to Barclays Life Assurance Company Limited, 252 Romford Road, Forest Gate, London E7 9JB? Ah, he said. Let me give you the number to the Romford Road branch.
A lady with a soft reassuring voice answered the phone. For about the eighth time, I gave the Policy Number on the statement sent to me in 1995. Nope. I gave the Customer Reference Number. Nope. I gave my name, spelled by the letter. Nope. I gave my Date of Birth. Nope. My heart sank.
Then I remembered the last man I spoke to asking me for my National Insurance Number. I knew it by heart thirty years ago, but not anymore. All my old diaries containing the number were lost. I told the man I didn’t have it. I am not sure if it was on my UK Drivers License. But I left that license in a rented car when I went for my Medical School Reunion in 2014. So I could not give him the National Insurance Number.
Before I made the last call, I went into my brown bag — a conference bag given to me at the 20th Scientific Conference of the Nigerian Surgical Research Society held at Port Harvourt July 7-9, 1988. This bag contains all my certificates and important documents. I searched for the UK National Insurance Number. A card or document, but found nothing. Ok almost nothing. I found a small folded paper titled: “BARCLAYS LIFE Mr E Fashakin PERSONAL PENSION PLAN STATEMENT for the year ended 5th April 1995 including the current value of your Plan. On page 3 of this folded paper, right in the middle of the page, is a line “Your National Insurance No. XXNNNNNNX”.
I had reached a dead end with Miss Softvoice, but before I hung up on this despondent call, I asked her hesitatingly. “ If I give you my National Insurance Number, could that help?” “Sure, let me try that”, she answered. I gave her the numbers carefully, and held my breath. After what looked like eternity, she said “I have found you”. Are you serious? For over two hours, my name and date of birth did not show up in any database (what kind of records did they keep in the 1990s?), but here she found me? Another bombshell followed.
The value of your Pension as of today is £29,789.25 (the last value given me in April 1995 was £5377.29, and there were no further contributions). Are you kidding me? No I am not. That is the value. She started reading me the disclosures and the three options, getting an annuity, lump sum payment and installment payment.
I want lump sum! Ok the first 25% is tax free. The rest is taxed at 40%, but you can get the tax back from the government. So I will get about £21000 now and £8900 back from government later. I am still trying to figure out what to do with the money. I was just on the verge of giving up on it. I thought the max likely value would be about £9500. £29,789 is a big surprise. Barclays did a good job managing the money. I am grateful to them, and his Royal Majesty’s Government making this possible, for working for them for less than four years!
Emmanuel O. Fashakin, M.D.,FMCS(Nig), FWACS, FRCS(Ed), FAAFP, Esq.
Attorney at Law & Medical Director,
Abbydek Family Medical Practice, P.C.
