Here take him he said. I was dashing through the crowded market, trying to keep up with the rest of my team. We had to run some errands on our first day here in Mbarara, Uganda. We all loaded up on motorcycles and drove through traffic with the pastor to run errands. We bought the essentials, water, phone minutes, toiletries for the month. As I'm weaving through the crowd I find myself at the very end of the pack.. I turn to my right and I see a precious little boy holding his father hand. The boy looks at up at me, his eyes spoke a million words in that moment. Seconds later, I hear his father slur the harshest words, "here, you take him, I can not, I am not well please take him". He tells the boy to go with me and takes two steps back leaving the little boy with me.
Immediately my voice grows angry and with my heart broken I say, "sir I cannot, I am sorry". I'm in total disbelief that this was happening I am more silent than usual and continue walking. The next couple seconds my thoughts are on the verge of breakdown. The man and his boy continue following me, we stop at a small shop, traffic just a few steps away and people walking so close to me that I am getting pushed from side to side. I found myself lost, staring at this man and his boy, the man says again, "please, take him, take him". All that came out was, "NO, he is your son, you are responsible, you have to stop what you are doing and take care of him". The man looks up at me, eyes blood shot, he says "madam, I can not stop". The boy looking at me, wearing his undersized pajamas and pink flip flops, his little swollen belly impulses me to get him something to eat. When I return to give the little boy his crackers he smiles and takes them quickly.
The boys name is Abel and his fathers name is Joseph of Moses. I shake Joseph's hand and look into his eyes and say, we love you, you must stop and be responsible. His only reply, "I am sorry, for that I respect you, thank you". I try to continue a conversation with Joseph but it is obvious that he is delusional and under the influence. I sit outside the market on the steps waiting for the pastor to finish running errands, thoughts of disgust and frustration race through my whole being. This boy, Abel deserves to be loved, he deserves to be wanted and cared for.
As I put my dark shades on, the tears began to flow, no tears of sadness or pity but of anger! Joseph puts his coat over his sons head, clearly being to heavy for abel to handle it, mind you it's twelve in the afternoon on a hot and humid day in Africa. Joseph covers the boys face with the coat, and as little Able is trying to take it off, his father runs away leaving him in front of me. I yell at Joseph, stop! Little Able caught a glimpse of his father and ran to him, he reached his legs and hug them. Joseph tells him, "no stay with the lady". He would distract little able then run away, the boy would chase him, over and over.
It seems that the boy had been in this situation before, he did not cry but had a straight face. Abel was diligent he did not take his eyes off of his father. This man did this at least ten times before he picked Abel up in his arms and walked away from me. As Joseph walked away with his boy in his arms, Abel had in one hand the juice and the other the crackers. I waved bye, he did not. He looked into my eyes. I looked into his. Then, he was gone.
