Moms Always Know-Thank Goodness!

I started this post last week on Thanksgiving but haven't had the right words to finish it. I know my mom has been able to sense that something is going on in my life over here that is bringing me down. Thank you mom for caring. How do mom's sense these things?

I'll do my best but this is the reason I haven't posted for a while. I thought I would add a few posts tonight that were more upbeat and then finish this one...

I am not even sure where to begin with this post. I've had a couple of very hard days this week which have made it tough to write. I've gone from sad to happy to mad to confused and then to homesick. I know the homesick part is due to the fact that I missed Thanksgiving with my family this year but another part of my emotional roller coaster is due to a little boy named
Trumpito.

I know I've mentioned him a time or two but not in depth and that is for good reason-my heart hurts. Trumpito was given to the Osu Children's Orphanage from very early on in his life. If you don't know much about the Osu Children's Orphange and would like to, please be cautious because the information you'll find is very, very disturbing. There are videos on Youtube if you want to see footage but I believe the link below will take you to an article that will paint a vivid picture. You won't need to read the entirety of the article to understand where I am going with this. *Just a side note; the news broke this story back in September of 2010 and there have been claims from the home that corrective actions have been made. However, I am a witness to say that whatever actions claimed to be made weren't for the better.

www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/NewsArchive/artikel.php?ID=189565

According to the home, Trumpito was born five years ago in some sort of tragedy; which is the reason they named him Trumpito....Tragic...Trumpito...I don't understand. He is also far from five years old. If I were to guess, I'd say he's close to 9 but is at a kindergartner's learning level-if that. Some claim he has Autism which he might, but I think there is far more going on with this little guy than what meets the eye.

I've given Trumpito a nickname, TK, and I'll more explain later.

TK is in the very first class I taught and I immediately felt a connection with him. I think I started caring for him from the second I met him because all of the other kids were telling him he stunk and it broke my heart. TK cannot read nor write and he is very disruptive in class. However, he has a heart and a soul and he is a child of our Heavenly Father; therefore, I love him.

The first thing I noticed about TK were his eyes but then, sadly, his legs and feet and a few scars on his arms. He never wanted to wear his shoes and when I asked why, he said, "They hurt me." When I looked at his shoes, I noticed they were for a five year old. His feet were smashed into these tiny shoes. Not only that but he has cuts all over his toes. No wonder he doesn't want to wear his shoes. He is pouting in the picture with his arm up but you can see the scar on his arm; which is what he has all over his little body.

You can see how he walks on the

backs of his shoes; that is when he actually has them on.

No shoes....

I started finding his shoes in the most random spots throughout the school. I would ask him where his shoes were and he would just say, "They hurt me."

Here are a couple of the places he "hid" his shoes.

I also noticed how he is the child who is blamed for EVERYTHING! By the children and the teachers. Whenever anything goes wrong, I hear,

"Trumpito, did it!"

"Trumpito, stop it!"

"Trumpito, kneel!"

(the children kneel down when they are put in timeout.)

I couldn't help but resort back to my business classes and all of the sales training I've been through, what kept coming to my mind is, people want to feel needed-They need to feel needed. My poor little boy has never been needed. He doesn't even know what that feels like. His parents didn't need him, his "home" doesn't need him, the school doesn't need him.

Who needs Trumpito?

I do.

I made it my quest from that day forward to show TK just how needed he is in this world. Even if its just to one person, he is needed. I tried to talk to the teachers about it and they agreed that they would try to help...

So, first things first, let's give him a new outer makeover because the inner makeover is going to take a very, VERY long time to work on. I told TK that I wanted to buy him some new shoes but he had to promise me that he would leave them at school everyday and he has to take care of them. (If he wears anything new home, they take it from him and either sale it or give it to the older boys.) He promised but I could see it in his eyes that he had no faith in my intentions. He has been made promises before that never came through.

For a whole $7.00 at the market I was able to buy him a pair of sandals and sneakers.

This is how you measure feet in Accra; a stick. I was measuring his feet in the picture above where you can see all of the marks on his legs.

When I got to school the next morning, I wanted the gift to be from all of the teachers. I want the teachers to know how serious it is to follow through on their word. I'd also love for the teachers to fall in love with him before I leave. 


So, we gathered the teachers and Trumpito together and presented him with his new shoes. 


Look at his face in the pictures. He doesn't look happy, right? Well, that was my worry.

TK is very comfortable with the driver for our school, John and John said Trumpito is in shock. He said he is waiting for someone to take the shoes from him.

Here is John, the driver.

John explained to him that they are his and no one will take them as long as he keeps the promises he made to me.

He slowly started to smile.

Yep, my sunglasses and his new shoes made for a happy little boy.

He even wanted to take a picture of his shoes himself.

I also told Trumpito that I wanted to give him a nickname. I had to explain to him what a nickname is but once he figured it out he was so excited to have something of his very own...his nickname. I won't go into the day names you receive in Ghana but his is Koffee.

So Trumpito Koffee is now TK!

I also told him that he is a very good boy and that I love him.

I asked him if he feels he is a good boy-No.

I asked him if he is given hugs-No

I asked him if he is told that he is loved-No

I made him promise me that he will tell himself that he is a good boy everyday and that everyday he must remember that I love him.
 His eye just sparkled.

That is the good news.

The day went on as usual. TK would come to me any chance he could just to feel wanted. As the school day came close to being over, I could see something come over him. Then I remembered how when I first got to school that morning he told me his head was burning. 

I asked him a few questions about it but figured he had a little headache.

I also noticed how as the day was coming to an end how he started to misbehave more and more. So, I pulled him aside and sat him down and told him I wanted to know what was on his mind (I have to use words he can understand otherwise he would look for something that was on his head. :))

He looked directly at me for a few seconds and then all of a sudden his little eyes started going in all sorts of directions. He started waving his little hands back and forth and his stuttering went out of control. I held him for a second close to me and said, "TK, I love you and you are such a good boy. I need you to use your words please."

"They beat me. Please don't make me go home."

My heart sunk and my stomach hurt.

I asked him what he meant and he told me, after a lot of calming and soothing him, that the older boys in the house beat him all of the time. They told TK that morning that when he returned from school that they were going to beat him. I asked him if he had told the "mom" of his home and he said, "Yes, but she said I am crazy and that is why they beat me."

I asked what he meant by crazy and he just pointed to his head and said, "Crazy".

He then proceeded to show me the scars from the beatings. It is acceptable by most here in Ghana to cane children at home and at school; which is something that I will NEVER

stand for at our school.

The scars on his body are from being caned. The scars on his legs are from being pushed down and then the boys purposefully reopening the cuts. He has burn marks on his arms. He has a scar under his mouth. He always has cuts in his mouth. That same day he told me his bum hurt. I asked him if he needed to take a bath and he said no and that he had taken one that morning. So, I flat out asked him why his bum hurts, knowing the answer already, and his little mind went into a completely different world and he ran away.

The very worst part of all of this; there is no doubt in my mind that the administrators of Osu know about all of this. In fact, they are more than likely telling the older boys to do so.

TK has major learning problems and speech impediments so he is considered to be crazy at his home. As you read in the article, the children who have the most problems are the children who are neglected the most.

I didn't even know what to say or what to do. In America, you call the authorities. In Ghana, there is no such thing. Besides, the government here funds the Osu Home.

TK begged me to let him stay at school. I tried to calm him but he just kept saying that he will sleep at his desk in his classroom but not to make him go home.

I tried to talk to the teachers about it but the whole Osu Child Abuse issue is old news to them. They just said that they've tried to do something about it in the past but nothing will change because that would take the government to admit a mistake; which we all know that doesn't happen.

I sat for the last hour of the day in pain. Trying my hardest to solve a huge problem as fast as I could. Well, the driver showed up to take the children to their home. TK changed out of his shoes like he promised to do. He looked up at me and begged me again not to make him go home, only this time he had tears in his eyes.

I told him he had to go home so he could sleep in his own bed (even though they share three to a single bed) and that he had to be strong. I told him that I love him and that he is a very good boy. I made him repeat it to me and then gave him a big hug. I told him I would try my hardest to visit him at home that night but I couldn't promise. Then I watched him walk down the ramp with tears in his little eyes to the car.

I ran to Uncle Ben and told him that TK was so upset that he was crying. Ben said he wishes there was something he could do about it but his hands are tied. I don't disagree with Ben on this. This country is just not America. I'm not saying America is perfect in anyway but at least I can call someone in America in this sort of situation for help.

The reason I told TK I would try my hardest to visit him at home is because since the news story broke about Osu, they have closed down random visits. One must be cleared ahead of time to visit and even then, there are no guarantees. Why would they do this if they have taken the corrective actions they claim they made??? They claim its because they don't want anything taken out of context that could make the home look bad. How about all of the bruises and cuts on your children, not to mention a little girl who wets herself every time she meets a strange man (story below)???

Sure enough, I wasn't able to visit him...yet.

I've been told that if I go with a teacher from our school to visit Osu that I am allowed in because the children attend our school. I'm going to let the head "Madam" know that I am writing a story about the four children but my main focus is on Trumpito.

I have been told that if the school knows that someone is taking a particular interest in a certain child then they watch that child more closely. They don't want any negativity coming from their home. They will watch out for TK because they know an American is writing a story about him....I hope anyway.

So needless to say, TK and I had a pretty tough day. I actually didn't go to school the next day nor did the Osu children. I didn't see them until Monday and TK was just as he most always is....a happy little boy.

I've had a very hard time with the way children are treated here. I've done a lot of thinking and praying about it. I am one who likes to be in control, (big surprise I know!) but in this country, or anywhere really, I am unable to control anything but myself. Meaning, I can't change Ghanaians culture myself. I can only try to learn where what I don't know is coming from and maybe try to influence those around me. I am not here to change Africa. I am here to learn about Africa. That being said, no child should fear going home in any part of the world ever.

I have decided that I can only do what I can do and that is to show TK how much I truly love and care about him while I am here. I am going to do all that I can to give him the love that every child deserves. I only have a small amount of time to do so but I will give it my all. I know this will not happen through buying him new shoes and that so wasn't the point. I want him to know that he is needed and that someone is thinking about him.

I taught him the "I Love You" hand sign and he LOVES it.  So we always say I love you through our hands.

He, in return had something pretty cool to show the other kids. They all thought he was the coolest thing ever! Even the babies started playing with him; which for some reason all of the other little kids thought that was so awesome!

Haha! It took some of them a little longer to go from the already known Peace sign to the I Love You sign.

I can't even tell you how much he's already changed and how much the children have learned to respect him. He just wants to be loved. Whenever I'm around, it doesn't matter where, but he has to have one hand on me. He loves to put his hand on my arm or play with my hair (all the kids love playing with my hair because it is "so flowing and white"). He especially loves putting my arm around him, as do I. He just longs for the feeling of affection.

I don't know how its possible to love a child the way I love my TK in such a short amount of time.

I would give anything to adopt him if I could.

He is the reason I came to Ghana...

(Yes, those are sweat marks on my stomach!!!)

As a side story of this same home but not to veer too far from TK...I have another little girl in my school from Osu who doesn't really talk. She just smiles and shys away when someone talks to her. When she first started coming to school, she would just wee wee on herself all of the time. Auntie Lydia was very concerned about her so she went to the home to figure out what was going on. When the little girls "mom" was addressed about the issue, she told Lydia that the girls who are "weak" in the home are taught how to toughen up by the older boys. They are held down on the bed and forced to "toughen" up. I'm not going to go into detail because you know what I mean.

.

Anytime a man tries to speak to this little girl she runs and hides until she feels she can trust him.

Here are our other two children that we have in our school from Osu. As you can see, these girls are tough enough!

Gifty is her name.

This is Betsy. She is the smallest thing ever but she is so so so feisty!

These two little girls are best of friends.













I was getting on TK's case for throwing up hand signs while we were taking a picture but little did I know that the little darlin Betsy was throwing up her own signs. She is a tough little thing!

Anyway, the home told Lydia they would start watching the girls better at night. Things seem to have gotten better for her since then. She is able to control herself now but she still doesn't talk.

I would love for all of the children to have a mom like mine. One who just knows...

I love you, mom, and am so thankful for you and for the amazing gift of a family-

a loving family.