It was one of those ordinary moments that suddenly becomes profound.
A week ago, I was in the Shopper’s Plaza parking lot, and my phone beeped. It was a text message from our social worker. Which orphanage do you choose? Forever Angels?
I quickly texted back: Yes!
I went into the store and starting my grocery shopping. The text kept swirling around in my head. Why would he need that information? He would only need it if he was writing our approval letter, right?
But I was afraid to ask him. I was afraid to hope. After all, it’s been three and a half years since we started on the journey to adopt a fourth child. We had to been told No more times than I can remember. In the past couple of months, we had been given reason to hope that maybe it would happen. But no one in social welfare had ever given us that assurance.
I finished shopping, forgetting half of what I came for, and went home with my thoughts spinning. What are you waiting for? Gil asked me. Just ask him!
So I did. I sent off the text: Does this mean you are writing our approval letter?
Yes.
YES!
And today, I was standing in the Tanzania Revenue Authority, getting our car registration renewed, when I got this text: I have good news for you. I have your letters for your fourth child.
After three and a half years of waiting and longing and despairing and praying, This Day finally came.
We have the letters in our hand.
In the next few days, Gil and I will fly up to Mwanza in northern Tanzania, where we will try to get to know about half dozen adorable, perfect little boys who each desperately need a family.
We will spend about 8 hours with these children, and then we will make our decision. It will be an impossible decision, an unthinkable decision. These boys are around 4-5 years old. We are possibly the last chance for each of them to get a family.
Rejoice with us…..and then pray with us!
After this trip, we’ll still have a wait of about 1-2 months before we came bring him home. But regardless, there was a whole lot of screaming and jumping and dancing in the Medina home today.
It finally happened. We were convinced it wouldn’t, and yet here we are.
Since ancient times, no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. (Isaiah 64:4)
If you’re like most westerners, you’ve never really had to think about it. You’ve probably never been asked for one. The temptation has never been there. It’s a non-issue.
Consider yourself blessed.
For the majority of the world, the giving and receiving of bribes is commonplace. Happens every day, on every socio-economic level, in just about every aspect of society.
Imagine your child’s public elementary school teacher requiring him to bring a dollar to school every day, or else he won’t be allowed to attend class.
Imagine your high school student being required to pay off her teacher if she expects to pass her exams. Or worse, perform a sexual favor.
Imagine running a printing business, but you never win bids unless you are willing to do the job under the table, tax free.
It’s complicated. Public employees are often grossly underpaid. Sometimes there’s a fine line between a bribe and a tip. In America, we give tips after we have received good service; so is there a huge difference in giving a tip in order to receive good service? In some cultures, it’s seen as the same thing.
So where is the ethical line? These are difficult waters to navigate, that most in the West don’t really need to think about. But for us, regular life. While living here, we have been asked for bribes, subtlety and not-so-subtlety, in a multitude of situations, more than I can count.
Gil and I, from the very beginning of our time in Tanzania, have been rock solid in our refusal to pay bribes or contribute to any kind of corruption. For any reason, in any situation. This has meant that we have sometimes spent a half hour arguing with some sort of official. It’s meant that once I spent an entire day trying to pay a traffic ticket and receive a receipt for it. (I could have paid the officer who pulled me over about $5 and been done in 2 minutes.)
We don’t buy pirated movies, even though they are available on every street corner in Dar (and the only kind of movies available here). When I am quoted a price on a piece of furniture, and then told that if I want a receipt, I will have to pay an additional 20% (the amount of sales tax), I always insist on a receipt. (And depending on what kind of mood I’m in, give them a little lecture as well.)
As Christians, we should be absolutely committed to integrity. But is there ever a time and place when paying bribes is justified? What about Oskar Schindler, rescuing Jews? He paid lots of bribes. What about the people who are smuggling Bibles into North Korea, who regularly bribe border guards? Is that justified? There’s probably no easy answer.
Finding out about the American illegal international adoptions(often by Christians) happening in Tanzania shook me to my core. It’s been a long time since something made me so angry. There is no way this is happening without bribery or other forms of corruption. And I am fighting it this week, by writing personal letters to agencies and families, urging them to reconsider.
Yet I’m sure if I were face to face with these families, or with case workers from these agencies, they would justify what they were doing. Isn’t it worth it to give a child a better life? What hope do these children have? What if they end up on the street? What if they have a condition they could die from in this country? Don’t the ends justify the means?
No. For me, this is an easy answer.
And the difference between this situation and Nazi Germany, or North Korea, is that I still have hope for Tanzania and it’s government. If paying bribes in those situations were justified, it’s because bribes were used as a means of bringing down a government. Yes, there is plenty of corruption going on here. But I believe in the future of this country, and Tanzania’s problems could be helped significantly by eliminating corruption, not contributing to it. Tanzania has adoption laws, and their goal is to protect children, so there is no reason not to follow those laws. Corruption brings down governments. Corruption breeds death. Rescuing a few children, at the expense of millions of others, is just not worth it.
Would I love to see international adoption happening in this country? Yes, especially for special needs children. Does a lot still need to change? Is there still room for reform? Of course. But reform is not going to happen by enabling more corruption.
We Americans wring our hands about poverty and child-trafficking and orphan care. Let’s not make the problem worse by trying to help in the wrong way.
If you ever hear of people pursuing a Tanzanian adoption who are not living here, please put them in touch with me.
I realize that many, many times on this blog, I have been an advocate for international adoption. I have been an advocate for Tanzanian adoption. I have wanted Tanzanian laws to allow more adoptions.
I love Tanzania’s orphans. I want to see more Tanzanians have a heart for adoption. I want to see Tanzanian churches and Christians step up in the area of orphan care and adoption.
But let me make this crystal clear: I would never, ever advocate for someone to adopt a child, from Tanzania or anywhere, by going around the laws of the country.
I discovered yesterday that this is exactly what is happening. There are American adoption agencies, and American families–Christian families–who are attempting to adopt children in Tanzania.
Tanzanian adoption law is extremely clear. You must live in this country for three years before you can apply to adopt. There are no exceptions. You foster a child for six months, and then you apply to legalize the adoption. It always works that way. It’s a slow process, it’s a frustrating process, but it works.
I am horrified…let me reiterate…HORRIFIED…to find out that there are American agencies and families who are trying to get around that process. The only way–the ONLY WAY–that is happening is because major money is being shifted around. I’m sure the families are in the dark about this. They are trusting agencies and orphanages who should know better.
So when I see cute little fundraising pages for American (Christian) families who are raising money for their $30,000 Tanzanian adoption….the frustration, the outrage I feel just cannot be communicated in words.
All three of our adoptions have been incredibly ethical. The process here is slow and frustrating, but it works. It is also FREE, other than lawyers’ fees at the very end. So where do you think the $30,000 is going?
What do you think that kind of corruption will breed?
Sure, you give a kid or two a better life, but what happens when all adoptions in Tanzania are shut down due to corruption?
I care about Tanzania’s orphans, but I also care about Tanzania. I would never, ever endorse an adoption that will only breed more corruption, deceit, and most likely, child trafficking.
Please friends, if you are pursuing an international adoption, ask the hard questions! Be wary of “Pilot Programs” in new countries! Be wary of small agencies who don’t have much experience! Don’t cut corners! It’s just not worth it!
Please, if you know anyone pursuing a Tanzanian adoption (who is not a resident of Tanzania), share this with them. My friends, let us love the orphan. But let us love truth and justice too.
I’m only posting a cute orphan picture because I want people to click on this link. Because seriously, I’m not in the mood for impressing the world with cuteness right now.
*Update January 2016: If you are considering a Tanzanian adoption and found this post through a Google search, please contact me. I have a lot more information that I would love to share with you. amedina(at)reachtanzania(dot)org.
Please also consider reading the series I wrote on adoption corruption, starting here.
If you follow international adoption news, you’ve heard it: Birthparents are manipulated into sending a child to an orphanage. A mother is promised money to give her sweet one up for adoption. Paperwork falsified. People who know better making way too much money off of a child’s plight.
Adoption mends. Adoption redeems. Adoption brings hope. Except when the brokenness breeds more brokenness.
What kind of a world do we live in, where men exploit a child who has already lost everything? Where people prey on other’s poverty, ignorance, hopelessness?
I read articlesthis week on Uganda’sadoption program, which seems to be the next African adoption program that will bite the dust. Like a long line of dominoes they have fallen: Rwanda, Liberia, Ghana…now Congo and Ethiopia are only hanging on by a thread….and next, Uganda joins the list. The headlines announce fraud, corruption, deceit. And meanwhile the children languish, on streets, in orphanages, two or three to a bed.
What I don’t understand is why there is a need to traffic children for adoptions. Greedy lawyers shouldn’t need to connive their way into stealing children. For goodness sake, there’s enough orphans to go around.
How do we define an orphan? That is the big question. UNICEF defines an orphan as any child who has lost at least one parent. ‘Tis true–an orphan of this definition does not necessarily need a new family. Maybe her Dad just needs a job or her Mom needs a place to live. By all means, let’s keep these families intact.
But I don’t define an orphan that way. In my definition, an orphan is any child who has no family, for any reason. Most of the time, that child’s parents are still alive. They are just not able to parent their child. Think about it: Are not all American foster children in this category? Every American baby put up for adoption? Death is not the only way to create an orphan. Yet all are the product of brokenness; all need the redemption of adoption.
Such is the same on this continent. For every horror story, for every “orphan” child who is manipulated away from her parents, there are a hundred more who are left in hospital beds, in church buildings or bars, or dumped down toilet holes. A hundred more who are the carnage left behind from war, famine, HIV. Many times, brokenness wins, and no poverty-fighting program is going to save that family. But maybe, just maybe, the child can be saved.
Yet instead of salvation, in comes the dollar signs and the prestigious positions, and the rescue operation turns into lucrative business. Meanwhile, a child still cries herself to sleep. And no mother ever comes.
I feel ripped in two. I see my children, my beautiful children, asleep in their beds–fed, kissed, content, hopeful. I want to tell you their stories, because it would help you to love adoption more, and give you the confidence that yes! adoption is a wondrous thing–but those stories are for them alone to tell. So instead you must trust me when I tell you that adoption was the only hope for my children….and that there are millions more out there just like them. I look at my children and I want to say to you, YES! Please give the chance of a family to one more orphan!
But instead, I find myself afraid. I feel privileged, with all my adoptions, that I have had the absolute confidence that I know everything there is to know about my children’s stories. Though each process cost me much blood, sweat, and tears, I am positive no one received any unjust compensation. But can I give you my assurance that you would have the same confidence if you embark on this journey? I just don’t know.
It shouldn’t be this way! I must trust in God’s justice for those who seek to exploit the least of these, because otherwise the anger will consume me.
In the midst of the stories of adoption fraud and corruption, remember this: The orphans are still there, millions of them. Ethical international adoptions are still possible if you are very, very careful. Do not allow cynicism and fear to keep you from considering this incredible journey.
There are beautiful bright spots, in places such as Forever Angels, where Lily came from. Forever Angels is not only the best-run orphanage I have seen, but it seeks, first and foremost, to reunite families. They do everything they can–donate formula, provide jobs, help with housing–whatever it takes–to keep families together.
If that doesn’t happen, then–and only then–do they look for adoptive families. Yet even with these protective measures, they have dozens of children available for adoption. Only a very few will ever get families. If you are a resident of Tanzania–especially a citizen–will you consider adoption in a new way today?
If you need a little encouragement, you need to watch this video from Forever Angels. And even if you don’t live here (and thus don’t qualify to adopt in Tanzania), watch it anyway….because I promise, it will make your day. Which is something you might need after reading this post.
Note added July 2016: Shortly after writing this post, my whole view of international adoption was turned upside down. Please read the series I wrote after months of research.
My children are mine, no doubt about it. Legally, emotionally, forever and always, through late-night fears and throw-up on the floor, first toddling steps, fingerprints on the walls, bright scrawled drawings on my refrigerator.
They grin at me and yell “Mommy!” when the tooth comes out.
They look to me and whine, “Mommy…………” when life is unfair.
They cling to me and whisper, “Mommy” when the doctor comes at them with a needle.
I am Mommy. But you are too.
There is a part of them that is yours, and always will be. I look for you sometimes, in their faces, in their movements, in their reactions. I wonder if you have the same shoulder dimples, if you have the same almond-shaped eyes, if you have that slight frame.
One of you gave your life bearing my child. Tragedy. Sorrow. So unnecessary, because if you had given birth in another country, you would never have died.
I think about that day, when my child was taking her first breath, and hours later, you were taking your last. Did you get to hold her? Did her fingers curl around yours? Did you get to comprehend, at least for a few minutes, the beautiful miracle you brought into the world? Or did fear and pain overwhelm it all?
And the other two, you who held my child for nine months. You felt her kick against you. You watched your belly grow large with him. A miracle, a life, a breathing, feeling, child in the image of God, growing inside you, yet you felt only
despair.
What caused your hopelessness? Was it the lack of love in your life? Were you afraid of losing your only chance at an education? Was it rejection by your own mother, your empty purse, a broken heart?
I wish I had known you. I wish I could have come alongside of you and given you hope, and helped you realize that there could be another way, that this child who was knit inside of you for nine months could have always been yours.
If I met you today, I would collapse at your feet and thank you. The child you bore made me a Mommy. The child you bore has overflowed my cup. The child you bore is beautiful and intelligent and loving and full of hope.
I wish you could see her. I wish you could see him. I wish you could see me. I wish we could help you fill the holes in your heart. I wish for hope for you. And Redemption.
Your sorrow meant my joy. Your loss was my gain. I am sad that you will never know.
Dear Birthmother, you have given me an indescribable gift. I am forever indebted to you.