BLACK SHOES & the American
Little Oliva sits atop her triple-decker bunk bed. It's dark. It's gotta be about 11 pm and she still has homework to get done since she doesn't return home from school until 6 pm every day and then spends the rest of the night feeding, bathing, and entertaining her 22 younger brothers and sisters. Most of them are finally asleep, including the 2 that are conveniently sprawled out in her bed while she studies by one candle that's burning down fast.
Oliva is unusually distressed tonight. 'Unusually distressed' -- what a vague term when referring to orphans in Uganda. There are over 2 million orphans just in this country, but who's counting?
Anyways, Oliva is 10 years old, but she's an old soul full of responsibilities and tonight she tells me that she needs black shoes for school. She told me yesterday, but I blew her off. She told me again after school today, but too many kids were crying, coughing, and in need of AIDS tests first, so shoes were a little lower on the list if you're following my story. But now it's quieter. Two to three kids on every bed -- at least we finally have beds to sleep on. So, I asked Oliva if they make special exceptions for the kids with no family, the orphans (but we try to never call them that out loud)? Oliva looks miffed at my question since we ARE a family. And since she calls me 'mommy', I should be buying her the dam black shoes. But as I said, there are so many things we need, like food.
So, I ask Oliva again if they make special exceptions for the really poor kids (she doesn't think she's poor anymore, cuz now she lives in a house with a bathroom!). And you know what she tells me?
"Tomorrow I will be caned if I don't have the black shoes."
Now there are several of our street kids that I would question the truth in such a story, beating kids at school for their wardrobe?? But, you don't know Oliva -- she never lies. She's as honest as the Ugandan day is hot-as-hell! I'm pissed now. If they lay one finger on Oliva, I'll kick their _! Really. I consider myself a Christian. I go to church. I know full well that God instructs us to love everyone -- but if they 'cane' (beat) my Oliva, I won't be able to follow any of those Godly 'suggestions'. And I think Jesus may back me on this one.
Let me lay this out for you. Let's say you're an orphan in Africa. Your family has died from a myriad of issues -- AIDS, or a 20-year war in the North, or maybe your mom was raped and just left you for dead cuz her mom left her for dead -- generations of crap no one has time to weed through. But let's say someone gets you through that hard time, takes you in, feeds you, gives you an opportunity to live -- it's a miracle. Millions of others just like you will die of malaria (or some other totally preventable disease) or be murdered or starve to death. And let's say that out of another miracle that only God could construct, some Americans stumble upon you and decide to help get you clothes, put you in a triple-decker bunk bed, and now even pay your school fees.
(FYI. For some reason, kids in Africa would rather go to school than live inside, or eat food, or breathe -- such a foreign concept to us Americans.
And if the only thing you've ever wanted was to go to school and learn to read and color and maybe have a real friend -- you'll suffer anything to get it. Yet, when you finally conquer all these obstacles, your teacher (the one adult in your life that is paid to look after you and ensure you a future) tells you that 'you're still not good enough!'
"You need what?" I confirmed again.
"Black shoes," Oliva says in her unusually distressed voice.
They've got to be kidding about beating her, right? Has she not been through enough? We'll see what tomorrow brings, if no tragedy befalls us tomorrow, maybe Oliva's dream of not getting caned will come true – and she'll finally get her long-prayed-for black shoes...
