Happy Belated Mother’s Day. It is a beautiful thing that there is a day just to appreciate motherhood – being a mother by biological or other means. I greatly respect the impact numerous matriarchs have made on my life, whether they have led by good or questionable example.
Since Dr. Sandra Knight’s tale was published in the Jamaica Observer, Jamaican news media has been, admirably, persistent in reporting and following up on cases of sexual abuse against children. A small number of Jamaicans last week marched in solidarity with Help Jamaica Children – a charity that was born on the same day Dr. Knight’s report was published. I respect the efforts of these bodies and everyone who does more than lament about these unfortunate happenings, but my hope of reparation for victimized children still dangles like a bit of chicken suspended from a boat on a stick, with a bask of hungry crocodiles below, wide-mouthed in anticipation.
I do not remember having felt so terribly sickened at any actual moment in my life than I felt yesterday when I read yet another story in the Jamaica Observer of innocence stolen. I am still unable to eat. Could you endure Mother’s Day at 15 years old with a 4-month-old bundle of joy that was implanted by your biological father? Would you even call your stepsister to extend the day’s greetings when she, at 14, bears a bundle a month younger than yours and acquired in the same fashion? You are both motherless – your mothers died of HIV/AIDS related symptoms, most likely contracted from the man who gave you brothers who were also your sons. You both and your children may also be infected, the article sheds no light on this.
After a DNA test proving this man is the father and a report that he is mentally sound, I wouldn’t hesitate to non-surgically remove his penis, but I am not the law. He was lucky to have impregnated four of the women with whom he has had sex, how many other children could he have similarly molested without the evidence of offspring? I wonder whether our unconscionable state even considered granting these poor girls the choice of having an abortion while they were in the nation’s ‘care’. Was it too late?
Justice is impossible in this case as these girls are bound for life to the striking resemblance of their rapist father. Their formative years have been greatly damaged as both are out of school with no hope of returning until they have someone to take care of their children, and even then how well can they be expected to learn?
I cannot offer any advice or solution to the sexual abuse of children. I want to tell my little brothers and sisters to be careful, but it is too difficult to warn persons of those they have come to know as protectors. Relationships will strain and life will be pointless and loveless if we cannot trust. I want to tell parents to hold their children closer but some parents are sick, too- they are desperately in need of affection and care and cannot give what they do not have. Why can’t we all have good intentions? Why don’t we respect childhood anymore? Where has love run off to?
Here is a bit of sad, yet hopeful, music to temper your thoughts.
Walk in love,