Visit to the Sector

Ruthie, Aloys and I had an appointment with the Sector Officer yesterday, to discuss the possibility of adopting little Jule.  The Sector, as far as I understand it, is sort of like City Hall, so I guess the Sector Officer is akin to our office of Mayor.  

Some local schoolchildren outside the Sector Offices.
They came because they wanted to see what the
Abazungus (plural of Muzungus) were doing.

Aloys is one of two social workers at Kibogora Hospital.  Both men do a tremendous job, and are so dedicated to their work. 

If we adopt him, we have decided to name him Jude.  Somehow, we don’t think Jule will ever be pronounced correctly in the United States!  Also, we want to do all we can to help him know that he is a member of our family – and all the Berg kids are named after a virtuous Bible character.  I specify virtuous Bible character because I can’t quite imagine naming one of my kids Goliath, Caiaphas or Jezebel!  J We’d like him to have a name like his new brothers and sisters.  Anyway, just to get everyone used to his USA name, in hopes that this works out, we will start referring to him as Jude in our blog from now on.  J

Some typical scenery while on the walk to Jude's house.

Next time I think my gardening is tough, I'll remember these smiling ladies, hard at work.  

One of the many smiling faces on the side of road on the way to see Jude.  

We drove to the sector office, which turned out to be MORE in the sticks than Jude’s house!  We actually drove right past the cut-off to the bridge I described in an earlier post, and then kept going.  The further we drove, the worse the road became.  At one point, I told Ruthie I felt like all my internal organs were doing a square dance and kept switching positions.  Ugh!  It was not fun.  I think I need much stronger core muscles to be able withstand another ride like that.  Bleh. 

By the time we arrived, I am pretty sure I no longer looked like a Muzungu, but more like a green Martian.  I prayed throughout the meeting that I would not throw up on the sector magistrate.  The four of us sat together in his office, on wooden chairs, with our knees touching one another.  Not a lot of room to get out of the way if I suddenly felt the urge to toss my cookies.  Aloys spent about half an hour explaining the back-story to Jude’s situation to the magistrate, and why we had asked to adopt him.  He is the product of a teenage relationship, and when the girl turned up pregnant, the father denied paternity.  Genetic testing here isn’t an option.  A teen girl really cannot support a child on her own. 

I was sure the magistrate would say our wanting to adopt him was absolutely impossible, just like I’d thought the Aunt would have said “no” to our question of adopting him two days earlier.  Yet, imagine my surprise when he told me, through Aloys, that “Normally this is impossible.  It is very difficult.  But it can be done.  I think you can adopt this little man.  I will explain the steps we need to follow.”

The steps do not sound difficult.  They sound beautiful.  I am trying not to get my hopes up, but it is really beginning to sound like we might be able to take him home.  If only we could also bring home Deste, the little boy from the Congo, I feel like I would never ask God for anything again.   Of course, when I told God this, he laughed.  I could almost hear him!  As if I will ever stop going to God to ask for things – to whom else could I go? 

Step one is to verify his place of birth, and to see if he has a birth certificate.  Without a birth certificate, we cannot get a visa or a passport for him, as he doesn’t officially exist.  Many, many children here do not have birth certificates.  I was devastated at step one.  “I’m sure he won’t have one.  So then what will we do?”  The magistrate just smiled and said, “Nachi Baso” (no problem).  This can be fixed.  If he isn’t registered, he just must come to this sector and we will register him now and give him a Certificate of Live Birth.  That is enough for a passport and visa.  This is not a problem. 

Once we get past #1, I will tell you our next steps.  It will be a challenge to get this all done, but if God wants to bring us together, I know it can all be done.  

Our meeting was over, and we went back to our vehicle.  Just seeing it, I thought I would wretch.  I told Aloys I would have to walk beside the car until we got to the less bumpy road.  He walked with me, and Silas, the driver, drove along behind me with Ruthie in the vehicle.  I’m sure we looked funny!  After a couple miles, I was able to climb back in – but you know, I just think there is a limit to the number of bumps per foot for a road.  Once over that limit, roads shouldn’t be called roads, but just hiking trails.  J

When we came to the cut-off for Jude’s house, I said, “Why don’t we drop in on them and ask if Jude is registered?”  So we did.  This time, of course, the car didn’t even attempt to cross the bridge.  Ruthie and Silas just got out and joined us as we hiked up the mountain to his home. 

The Aunt had no idea if he was registered, where he was born, nor how old he is.  The grandparents weren’t home, so that was the only source of information we had.  As a patient at the hospital, he was registered as a 6 ½ year old, but he is very, very small for that age.  If asked, he says he is 3, but often times kids don't really know their age.  He has much better coordination and language than a typical 3 year old, yet his size is that of a 2 or 3 year old child.  

Aloys is hoping to reach the grandfather by phone at some point to ask these questions.  After playing and hugging with Jude, we left to get home.  This was hard, because Jude thought he was coming home with us again.  So sad!  Someday soon, I hope his hopes, and ours, come true, and he can come home with us. 

What a joy-filled, hope-filled day!