Orphans in Zambia

Linda’s note:  My thanks to Meagan Hawley and her blog for the poem and for inspiring me to write about the plight of orphans.

A few years ago I didn’t know any children who were orphans. Then I moved to Zambia and became sponsorship coordinator.  And that’s when I met orphans.  One afternoon I interviewed each sponsored student individually.  I was dazed as I walked home.  I threw myself on the bed and sobbed.  How else do you respond to story after story of death, desertion, and desperation? 

That particular group of students has moved on, but three of the current sponsored students have similar stories.  Grace’s mother died when Grace was 13, and her father died five years later.  At the funeral, an uncle that Grace had just met was assigned to be her guardian.  Grace tells about how this affects her:  “My uncle provides me with shelter and food, but I can’t ask him for anything else because he is looking after 16 other people.  I have no one to confide in.” 

At age nine, Kenny was sent to live with an aunt in a remote village when his parents died.  His aunt is unable to provide him with any financial support beyond food and shelter.  When Kinny found out he had a sponsorship at Namwianga, he walked 40 miles to enroll in high school.  Without sponsorship, Kinny would never have left the village. 

David is an eighth grader at Namwianga. He lived with an aunt for three years after his parents died.  She was not caring toward him, and life was miserable.  David left that home and lived on the streets of Lusaka for a year.  A relative found out about David and took him to Namwianga’s orphanage.

 “Some relatives just pretend you do not exist, no matter how much you might be struggling,” says David.  “The worst thing of being an orphan is not receiving love from parents. Anyone can love you and care for you, but no one will ever love you like your mother would.” 

A poem of unknown origin circulates in Zambia: 

My heart bleeds when I see an adult pass by.

I look in the face, hoping to see my lost father and mother.

Hoping to hear their comforting voices, hoping for a hug.

But nobody has time for me since my parents died.

I have become a scavenger.

I must roam the streets to look for food.

I have nowhere to sleep.

I cannot go to school.

When my relatives take me in I must be beaten because I am naughty.

I must do all the work because I am lazy they say.

I must be given little food because I eat too much.

If I laugh, I am making noise.

If I cry I am not grateful.

O God, it’s terrible to be an orphan.

Almost half of the sponsored students at Namwianga are considered orphans in the Zambian culture because they have lost at least one parent.  And twenty percent are full orphans because both of their parents are dead.  Many others are de facto orphans because of parental desertion or neglect.  It is easy to feel powerless in the face of such need.   And yet sponsorship is an important way to help orphans.  Students who attend Namwianga have their needs met in a caring environment that helps them grow academically, socially, and spiritually.   For most, it is a life-changing experience. 

If you are interested in changing a life, consider sponsoring an orphan or needy student in school at Namwianga.  High school students need $140 per month, and college students need $150 per month.  Partial sponsorships of $25 per month or one-time gifts are welcome. 

Sponsorship payments may be made by check, automatic debit, debit/credit card, or PayPal.  Checks should be made payable to Zambia Mission Fund and mailed to Zambia Mission Fund, Box 3393, Abilene, TX  79604. Automatic debit requests should be sent to the same address.   Paypal or credit/debit card payments may be made on the Zambia Mission website:  www.zambiamission.org.  Click on Donate and be sure to specify that your donation is for student sponsorship.  If you have questions, please post them as a comment and I will get back to you.  Your comment will not be posted unless you request it to be. 

Two Worlds - Another Reminder

The top photo shows my two youngest grandsons Knox and Thaine.  Michele and Mark Broadway are in the lower photo.  They are now at Namwianga and are shown here holding Lizzy and Dillon, two orphan babies at The Haven.

These photos remind me of the two different worlds I have lived in, and the joys of both.  Here is a re-post of a two-world experience from 2010.

Ophan Co-op

This story from Roy Merritt brought tears to my eyes. I hope it touches your heart as well.

Roy Merritt and his wife Kathi oversee four orphanages at Namwianga Mission. Roy writes:

Have you ever heard of an “Orphan Co-op”?

Neither have we. Till now, anyway.

Orphans in Zambia are often an unwanted burden, so relatives and peers mock them and tease them.

Kanyameza Church of Christ took an interest in local kids whose parents are dead. To give them a pleasant, accepting time, they decided to gather them a couple times a week for group activities.

They would sing together, have Bible study. Sometimes they could even share gifts of food or clothes. They selected Cecelia Siafwiyo, in the red dress, as their chairman. (Cecelia is the housemother for Haven 1, the infant orphanage at Namwianga.)

The group declared December 4 as “Orphan Day”, so Cecelia invited them to Namwianga for a party.

Forty two kids came—and soon put our playground to the test.

This sixteen year old girl, Chrisensia, is raising her twin brothers Charles and Andrew. One of the dozens of child-led households in our community.

We ate lunch together.

After lunch the kids sang, recited poems and quoted memory verses.

This is one little girl’s poem

“AIDS AIDS

It killed my mother,

It killed my father,

I am an orphan.

No-one is left to love me.”

Then we shared out gifts – toys and clothes YOU have sent over here!

This little fellow got a grip on his “stuff” and wouldn’t let go!

May we never forget "the least of these" and the compassionate people like Cecelia and the Merritts who minister to them.

A Special Little Guy

Roy Merritt recently sent out this story about Gwembe, one of the boys that he and Kathi have taken in at the Eric's House orphanage. It touched my heart, and I hope it will touch yours as well.

From Roy Merritt: Gwembe is the little guy on the left.

Gwembe is mentally retarded. Doesn’t talk much. He grins a lot and gives “thumbs up” to everyone he meets. He runs if he is travelling more than 100 yards.

Before he came to us, thugs battered him to mincemeat and a concerned person dragged him to Zimba hospital. When he recovered the hospital wanted to release him to Somebody—anybody! Social services brought him to us. They knew nothing about him, and when anyone asked his name he only replied “Gwembe” – which is a tribal name for our part of Zambezi Valley.

I liked him immediately. People here can be brutal with mentally ill or retarded people. Every town has a few ragged, filthy, shaggy fellows shuffling through trash heaps for a snack. I wasn’t just moved by compassion. I wanted our kids to learn that people like Gwembe are also valuable human beings, made in the image of God.

Gwembe has become popular, and fits in well most of the time. He plays with the two-year-olds, Hides behind the door and shouts “Boo”. He protects them and separates their little fights. He loves gadgets that flash or beep or unfold. Our older kids have learned to like him, return his thumbs up, and protect him from those who would be unkind.

Gwembe has some problems that need surgery. How do we get permission? I tried Social Services, the local court, the Chief medical officer, and just got passed around to the next office. We began to follow hints—where is his family? We finally traced them out—200 miles away at Siameja village deep in Gwembe valley. He had disappeared two years ago, and the family even planned a funeral for him, until they heard rumors he might be somewhere near Kalomo. After we told the family what we needed, Gwembe’s older brother Kingwell, brought us a handwritten letter from Gwembe’s father, with the date stamp of their local headman, giving permission for the surgery. Kingwell is the big guy in the picture. He is 25 years old and in grade 9.

The letter also told us Gwembe’s real name, Kalombe Siakoole. We’ve called him Gwembe for so long, nothing is going to change here!

Lunch Bunch

Now that classes are over, I've had more time to spend with my little guys from the orphanage. I went there this morning just as they were finishing their bath time and helped get them dressed. I planned to take three of them--George, Bernard, and Jason--but Brandon got his shoes on and followed me the door waving goodbye to the caregivers. What could I do? I loaded him up and took him along.

Lots of Love

Peace Corps Volunteers Angela, Jalle, and Karen went with me to visit The Haven on Friday after Thanksgiving. As soon as we walked onto the veranda we had little arms reaching up to us wanting to be held. Angela just sat down and gathered a lapful of toddlers who enjoyed her care and attention for the next hour or so. Bernard is one of my special little guys and is shown with me in the middle photo. Jason and Brandon (lower photo) posed while waiting eagerly for bath time. Jason (left) is a big eater and has figured out that bath time is followed by lunch time, so he is usually at the front of the line for batheing so he can be first to the lunch table!

Formula for Happy Babies

The Kiwanis Club of Abilene donated money to purchase formula for babies at The Haven. Shown here are some of the precious little ones who will benefit from their generosity.

If you are part of a group that needs a service project, consider contributing to the Milk Fund at Namwianga. In addition to feeding the babies who live at The Haven, the Milk Fund also provides formula for orphan babies in the villages who are being cared for by aunts, grandmothers, sisters, or cousins.

Bernard and Brandon

Bernard (top) and Brandon are two of the Eric's House gang that we have grown fond of.

A Lap Full of Love

Since Sara went home I haven't had as much contact with the toddlers at Eric's House. This afternoon I grabbed my camera and headed up there to see how the kids are doing.

I arrived as the little ones were getting dressed after bath time. I stepped into the changing room and immediately had little arms reaching up to me. I plopped down on the floor and filled my lap with Brandon, Bernard, Carol, Adrian, and Glory. A few minutes later Itone, one of my co-teachers at the college, dropped by. As he came in and saw me, he exclaimed, "Ah, you are rich!"

Yes, with a lap full of precious little ones, I am rich.

Moses

Our first trip to Zambia was in 1999. We met Roy and Kathi Merritt then, and we heard about one of the new babies they had just taken in. Moses was a tiny, sick weakling who almost died during the time we were at Namwianga. A few months later we learned that Moses had been adopted by Mr. and Mrs. Hunter Siangandu. The Siangandus were undaunted by Moses' many health problems and were anxious to add him to their already large family of five birth children. Hunter traveled on his bike to Namwianga. Kathi gave him some last minute instructions about how to care for Moses' special needs, and then Hunter tied Moses into a chitenge on his back and cycled the 10 miles or so back to the village of Simpweze.

I visited Simpweze in 2001 and was delighted to find that Moses was thriving in the Siangandu family. This year I saw Moses again when he accompanied his parents to the annual Namwianga Lectureship. Now eight years old, Moses is happy, healthy, and enjoying primary school.

The Siangandus later adopted more children, including another boy named Moses. They also took in some orphaned nieces and nephews. The total count of children they have raised is somewhere around 15. Hunter teaches Bible at Simpweze Basic School and is one of the bicycle evangelists in his area. Humble workers like the Siangandus are making a difference in the lives of many--including little Moses.