Sometimes I just have to write. Writing helps me to process and to sort things out. It doesn’t change anything but writing helps me to feel like I did. . . . something. . . .
Djimila was born in January, 2012. I first met her when she was 8 months old. In her then short life, she had been abandoned by her young mother. Her father was never identified. And, she had already had her left leg amputated because of an infection that had not been properly cared for. Djimilia was also suffering from some form of cerebral palsy. She could not yet sit up on her own, could not pull up, and was generally developmentally behind for her age.
The international rights of a child says that having a birth certificate is one of the rights of every child. They also list things like a family, an education, and adequate medical care as basic rights of every child in the world.
Djimilia did have a birth certificate because she was available for adoption. But, the wait for a family was just too long. . . . Djimila died last night. What did she die from? She was being cared for by a very good orphanage. Was it malaria, one of the greatest killers here? Was it typhoid fever or meningitis? Why did her little heart stop beating? Why did her little lungs stop functioning? I do not know. . . .
There will be no death certificate to indicate the end of Djimilia’s time here on earth. But, the Lord called her home and that is really all that matters now. Djimilia is no longer suffering, her left leg has been restored, and she is able to sit and to stand, even able to run and play just like a normal child. And, for this I am thankful.