Time Well Spent

Coming here I expected the kids to be suitably jaded when it came to connecting with us volunteers.  Here at the Green Program, volunteers have been coming (and subsequently leaving) for five years and it makes sense that the kids are now reluctant to open up to, be vulnerable around, and connect with every group of volunteers (leaving out the fact that half of them are angst-filled teenagers). Coming in with this mind state I didn’t think I would find many kids who would need me for more than my access to soap, stickers and band-aids. Today, once again, I learned differently.

            Maybe I have been on a roll lately, or maybe I am finally reaping the benefits of being here for so long, but I stumbled upon a deeply profound connection with a young girl this evening.  She has always seemed to need a little bit of extra attention, as she doesn’t connect with the other kids well. However, this evening was the first time, even though I was exhausted and there was a party in full swing back at the house, that I felt an emotional draw to her. She was quietly upset and not giving me her usual wonky-eyed smiles and shrieks of laughter because a group of the other kids didn’t want her to be included in their story-reading time (even in Africa, kids can be terrible to each other). And I knew all she really needed was for someone to read stories a special time to just her, then sit with her quietly, rubbing her back, until she fell asleep.  Getting wrapped up and frustrated in the daily life here (not feeling much gratitude, constantly being asked for things, kids screaming, playing, and tugging on your clothes) I tend to forget that these are kids without families, kids without the love, attention, and overbearingness from parents that my peers and I grew up with.  I would play all day like these kids, but when I was hurt I could run crying to my mother and she would comfort me while many of the kids here have a new strange white person answer every time they knock on our door for a Band-Aid.  Mama Sarah is a kind woman, but nobody can give 40 kids the individual attention needed to feel stable and supported growing up. 

            Once again I was there with a child who was sad and needed her mother but had only me, and once again I had no idea what to do.  At first this upset me, but like any self-proclaimed critical thinker upset morphed into angry quickly.  The whole situation bothers me. I feel like the kids should have some sort of support, someone to go when they’re feeling more than an 11-year-old can handle, but then I remember that is a Parents job, which these kids sorely lack. So then I go on to being frustrated with the parents who keep having kids they're clearly unable to take care of, but don’t stay there for long because many women in the United States could be in the same boat without the birth control access we have as a first-world nation. Finally, the minimal accessibility of healthcare, education, and contraceptives is not the fault of anyone, so much as the nature of a developing country (which is what I signed up for). 

It’s a lot to take in, and unfortunately I can’t get rid of the problem, only treat the symptoms.  But this is the stuff I came to Ghana for: not to buy kids candy or force them to go to bed on time, but to try and pick up a small bit of the slack these parents left behind when they dropped their kids off here- a task no amount of money could accomplish. And although it has taken a while, I feel as if I am finally getting there.

Once again, hope everyone is staying safe and warm back home, and go thank your parents for all that they do, no matter how old you are!

Photo Credit to Lauren Friednash