I am trying to imagine the meeting between Madonna and Yohame Banda. On one side you have one of the world’s richest women, famous and powerful, and on the other you have a farmer from one of the world’s poorest countries. They sit, surrounded by her entourage no doubt and possibly a couple of officials from Malawi, and talk about David, Yohame’s 13-month-old son. At the end of this conversation, Yohame agrees to give his son to this woman so that his son may have a better life.
How powerless must Yohame Banda have felt? Here he was poor and alone. His wife had died. He has already lost sons and daughters. And now this one son whom he could not take care of, whom he had placed in an orphanage since he was two weeks old, this one child had caught the eye of someone with the means to transport him to another world. His son would never be hungry again, would never be denied the best medical care again, would never lack for anything that money can buy. Could Yohame Banda have said anything but yes?
My heart fills with pity for this man. But also shame. I feel ashamed that this is the only solution that was offered to him.
Madonna has poured millions of dollars into Malawi. She is funding six orphanages as well as building a new orphanage that will house 4000 orphans in a village outside the capital. She deserves credit for doing this and also for bringing the world’s attention to the desperate state of Malawi and its estimated one million orphans.
But am I alone in thinking that an orphan is someone with no family? Little David Banda is not an orphan. His father is alive and well. He has uncles, aunts and cousins. He belongs to a clan. It is not lack of family that landed him in an orphanage, it is poverty. If Madonna’s sole concern is the welfare of this child, could she not have found a way to support his family and his community, so that he could be brought up among his own family?
Of course she could have done, but would that lifestyle compare to the lifestyle she can offer him in London? In pure material terms, of course not. David Banda has been plucked out of dire poverty and taken to the other extreme: A life of luxury and privilege, fame and fortune. The kind of life that many dream of. Is this not a Cinderella story of sorts? Should we not be rejoicing that one child out of a million has been not only saved but has also been pulled up to the highest level of the success ladder? Is this not a dream come true?
Clearly this is how Madonna views it. She is shocked and hurt at the adverse reaction to her decision to adopt an African child.
Though she famously does not watch television or read newspapers, she could not be in any doubt as to the fury this adoption has unleashed in the British media.
Not only that, but charities in Malawi have grouped together to contest the legality of the adoption. They argue that the law in Malawi requires prospective parents to spend at least 18 months in Malawi to be eligible for the adoption process. They also question whether David could not be looked after within his own community.
Madonna’s response is to do what every Hollywood grandee does when in a crisis: Go on the Oprah Winfrey show.
Well, not quite. She did not fly over to Chicago and sit face to face with Oprah in front of a live audience. This is Madonna after all. She sat quite comfortable in her own home and told her side of the story via video link.
I had never been to Malawi, nor have I ever visited any of the poorer African countries. I have not witnessed what Madonna did in her lightning two-week visit. Her words were eloquent. Her emotion genuine. What she saw shocked her to her very core. Her argument is a simple one: “I think if everybody went there, they’d want to bring home one of those children with them and give them a better life”.
Perhaps we would. Perhaps I too would be drawn to a child in an orphanage and want to bring him home. I would definitely want to give him a better life. I could definitely give him a better life in my comfortable home in the rich fabric of Europe than the abject poverty of living in an orphanage in Malawi. But does this mean I would have the right to take him away from his family?
The essence of the problem here is that the definition of a better life is almost entirely couched in material terms. A white Western family can provide a higher standard of living for an African child than his family of origin, but at what price?
When Yohame Banda states quite simply that what he wants is “a good life for my child” we understand him. We also understand that what he thought that meant was that Madonna would “educate and take care of our son” but that his son would remain his son and would one day return to his family. “I was never told that adoption means that David will no longer be my son — if I was told this I would not have allowed the adoption.”
I am not opposed to international adoption on principle, far from it. But my perspective is a more Muslim one. Someone with means and wealth can do a great deal for a child without making that child theirs. Blood and biology matter, they cannot be wiped away. Our roots are part of who we are. You can care for a child, educate and look after that child without taking that child away from his or her family.
But when a child has no family, then it is an entirely different equation. Adoption, be it local or international, is a blessing, both for the child and for the family who adopts him. There are far too many children in the world waiting to be adopted, just as there are many families and homes which could welcome a child, but don’t. Adoption and fostering should be encouraged and those who put themselves forward as prospective parents should be esteemed. It is wrong to vilify someone who wants to adopt a child. They are not selfish, as I have read rather too often, quite the opposite. Madonna means well even if in my view she is misguided.
