I continue to reflect on the days I spent with the girls. I am still thinking about them, 2 in particular but really the children as a group. I found myself locked in twice, once while we were still playing and someone had gone off to the market. The second time both of the workers had returned and so I am not sure exactly how it is we found ourselves locked in. I was ready to leave and calls for the key produced nothing. I sat down next to the girls who were helping carry my stuff to the car and we sang and danced and played drums on the containers. We talked and laughed and I learned a lot of Lingala in those 20 minutes.
Jolie is an older girl, somewhere between 11-14 I would guess, and has the most French. She served as my translator for the most part on Sunday when there was no one else around. With shaven hair and an erect posture she exuded a certain grace and patience. Kindness. Jolie is intelligent and thoughtful, the kind of girl you would be proud to call your daughter. Anna is a little cutie that appears about 4 but is probably actually closer to 6. She is spunky and fierce and I saw her devilishly tearing around a corner, fleeing one of the girls she had irritated in some way. The pesky little sister.
The problem for me is that, for the most part, these children aren't orphans. Many of them have homes and families, siblings, aunts and uncles, parents. And I can't help but look at Anna and wonder how it is her mother, her father, her aunties---someone---isn't thinking of her, wondering where she is and losing sleep over her absence in the house.
This Ramadan has been especially difficult for me as I've encountered something like a crisis of faith. I have been struggling to put together the pieces that make sense to me and figure out exactly what I can believe in, without doubt. Or maybe doubt is a constant part of having faith. But this struggle only further serves to create a distance between me and families like those of Anna. Often the families have been told by their church that the child is a sorcerer and I just can't imagine having that much faith in something. I can't imagine giving my life over to anyone who would tell me to put my child out. And I don't understand how sleep comes at night.
But I am learning that sometimes understanding is not the path. The folks at ORPER have a program based on reintegration. They work to move kids from the day centers to the home centers and back to their families. It is an arduous process. I don't know how many of the children who are returned end up back on the streets. As always, I land in the middle when trying to determine what is the best placement for kids like these. The cynical part of me believes someone who could be convinced to throw their child away once could be convinced to do it again. The optimist in me believes perhaps there are families out there grateful to have been given a second chance and have their eyes opened to the treasure they have. But I haven't stopped thinking about Anna since I met her three weeks ago. And I know where she is. Most likely her family remains in the dark. They just turned their backs and walked away..... Ramadan mubarak but it's not really a happy eid. I am struggling with this....
