A true story taken from Red Letters: Living a Faith That Bleeds.
Adanna’s name is a beautiful African word meaning “fathers daughter.” But Adanna won’t live until the next harvest season unless something drastic happens. In her home country of Zimbabwe, there are no jobs, there is no money, and the only thing certain is death that surrounds her. The expected life span for people in her country is only thirty-three. She has watched her mother, her father, and her sister waste away to AIDS. Adanna is now the head of the house hold. She is ten years old.
Adanna’s parents left no way for her to care for herself and the rest of the family. She has exhausted every favor from her neighbors, every form of assistance from surviving relatives, and sold her last possession for food. But her and her siblings woke up starving again this morning.
There is only one way for he to survive. Adanna has heard about a group of local men who will trade food for sex. Dare she even consider such a thing? For all of her young life she has dreamed of someday having a family of her own. She has protected her purity because she wants the man she marries to be the only lover she ever knows. Her mother taught her this. But she has to make a decision. A terrible decision.
She goes to see these men. Perhaps they’ll have compassion for her. Perhaps they’ll give her food without asking anything in return. They look at her, they grab her, they fondle her, and they laugh. They refuse to give her food. “Why should we give you anything, you ugly little mongrel?” they shout.
They tell her to go into the back room of the store and wait. She steps into a room that smells of urine and mold. She is shaking. A sickly man is sleeping in the corner. Suddenly, three men come in drinking and shouting. They approach her not as a human being but a mere animal. She screams. She cries. Nobody is listening. Nobody cares.
And they steal her dreams.
She leaves with food. Enough to keep her alive. But what kind of life? She has contracted HIV and she will die of AIDS within three years.
1 comments:
Obviously horrific. Do we think people really understand that we are talking about real people and that this is actually happening? That this isn't fiction? I think "we" generally read this and think, "oh, that's sad." Do we understand the magnitude of this state of emergency? Can we fathom our response if this was our child; or a friend's child; or even just a member of our community? Most of us don't know what to do and many of us don't think we can help. Perhaps, however, the first step is to truly grasp the magnitude of this situation and the devastation of human suffering. This story should make us physically sick. This story should make us weep uncontrollably. This story should make us grateful for the blessings we have and that our only hope for food is prostitution. This story should make us angry and sad. This story must cause emotion; if it does not than we must wonder if our society and insulated culture has caused us to put the pillow of affluence over our head and drown out the tears. Thank you young Mr. Spencer.
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