In the tiny village of Aba Afa just outside the bustling
city of Ibadan in Southern Nigeria, lives the boy who stole my heart and then broke
it. Unaware of even his own age, Kaseem
has seen and experienced more in the 6 or 7 years he has lived than most would
in a lifetime. I learned Kaseem’s devastating
story of abuse and abandonment as I sat with him on my lap in the dust in front
of his run down mud house. Abandoned
with his younger brother and left to die in his grandmother’s arms from an infection
elicited by severe burn on his leg, the boys have survived only by the great
mercies of our God. As I listened, I
stared at the mass scar that stretched from his hip to his knee and wondered
how deep the emotional scars of rejection and pain ran inside his little spirit.
Gripped with sorrow and grief as my mind struggled to comprehend how a mother
could unashamedly watch the flesh of her young son burn before her eyes and how
a father could so easily turn his back on his children.
My body began to tense and anger rose up inside me as I
wrestled with the injustices that these boys endured and continue to endure everyday
because their grandmother has to beg from her neighbours for food to feed the children
she has been left with. Lost in my
thoughts, I didn’t even notice that Kaseem was staring up intently at me with
his gorgeous brown eyes. I smiled and he
smiled back. The most beautiful smile
you can imagine. A smile which shattered
my heart into a million pieces because it was a smile which reflected the
desperate need to feel cherished and be loved.
I stroked to Kaseem’s arm as he clung to me. I whispered in his ear words affirmation,
telling him how precious he was to us and even more importantly to God. His smile spread even wider as I started to
tickle and tease him. We played and
laughed until sweat poured down our faces.
My heart swelled and I was completely lost in the moment until I heard
the call that it was time to go. I tried
my best to ignore the call “pretending’ I didn’t hear it, but by the third time
I relented and did one of the hardest things I have ever done. I tried to say goodbye to a little boy who had
experienced too many goodbyes in his short life. Guilt and pain washed over me like a flood
when Kaseem refused to let go. My stomach
churned as a care worker pried his thin arms away from my waist. I struggled to hold back the tears when he
started to weep and punch the air in frustration. His eyes bore into me and reflected a look of
brokenness and loss. I will never forget
that face and pray for the day I get to hold him in my arms again.
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