Babies

For those of you who don’t know,
I love babies. Here are a few stories I’ve written in my journal lately about
some of them that frequently come to the center.

It’s
Sunday and finally cool; the morning rains have soaked everything, including
all of the children’s clothes. Little kids running around everywhere, half
clothed, not because of heat but because their only play clothes are wet. We’ve
realized recently that the rain brings the ants out; kind of like fire ants
back home except usually there, you can avoid the mounds and you are fine. Here
I don’t even want to try to walk the short distance to Alvina & Faith’s
because I know I’ll be bitten at least 5 or 6 times. The clouds are rolling in
again, its beginning to rain. Earlier one of the girls Colile or Phetsile (they
are sisters but not identical twins as we originally thought) handed the baby
Tembelihle to me. Tembelihle can’t be older than 11 months; to my understanding
the girls go and get her from her mother or gogo and cart her around practically
every day. The girls themselves are 11 and 9. I’ve never seen a baby that
fusses as little as she does. The moment Tembelihle was in my arms she of
course reached for my glasses. She came very close to pulling them off of my
face a few times but after a few minutes she just laid her head on my chest and
easily fell asleep. As I watched her clutching and releasing my shirt and
sucking on her thumb, I began to wonder when the last time someone had held her
and just let her fall asleep. Maybe it was the last time one of us held her.
When the girls hold her, you realize how young they are. She’s almost half
their size. I wonder why the girls have her so much. Maybe her mom has to go
earn money. Maybe she just needs a break or what I don’t want to think, maybe Tembelihle
just isn’t loved that much. When the girls hold her she just has to hold on.
She can’t fall asleep because she can’t relax enough.

Tuesday
I spotted one of my girls, Nozipho (11 years old) and her nephew, Soulja (15
months). At least that’s what they call him now, I’m pretty sure he has a
different siSwati name. His story is one I knew before coming here, from World
Race blogs I read last February. His mother, Dudu died from AIDS in October.
When he is at the center Soulja hardly ever lets Nozipho out of his sight.
Quite the opposite of Tembelihle, he cries for her if I have him longer than a
minute or two. Although Tuesday he let me hold him for about 20 minutes,
becoming very interested in my bracelet and chewing on it (he’s probably teething).
His aunt is one of my favorite kids here. Our first week here, she wrote me a
note (in English) asking me to be her friend, of course I obliged. J I’ve been trying to take care
of Soulja for any length time while he is at the center so that she can have a
break if she wants it.

Friday,
Colile and Phetsile had Tembelihle with them again and I watched as they played
throughout the afternoon. At one point they put her in a wheelbarrow, on top of
some water containers that they were taking back to their homestead. Better
than leaving her behind I guess, but before I could move to go get her, Lila
was already in motion and assured the girls that she would take care of her
until they returned. The girls came back and began to play again. After awhile
they came up and offered Tembelihle to me. This time as I held her she was
fighting sleep again so I began to sing to her. There I was singing Irish
lullabies to a beautiful African baby girl, the same lullabies the mom sang to
me. In Swaziland and much of Africa it’s not uncommon for kids to be put in
charge of their younger siblings but I pray that she and Soulja will get to be
children and not have to grow up too fast. I pray that the children taking care
of them still have a chance to be kids and not have to become adults too soon.