She yawned sleepily, not in the least bit perturbed it seemed by the oohs and aahs of the women around her. After all, what could be worse than the less than auspicious surroundings in which she had been found? A public toilet in the in-famous Agbogbloshie Market in Accra.
The doctors said she must have been born about four hours or so before the good Samaritan, an elderly man, found her. Already she had been to two police stations, and one hospital so nothing could really be more comfortable than her pink downy blanket that the mothers in the maternity wing had pooled together to buy for her, and a group of women whose maternal instincts were all stirred - regardless of the fact as to whether or not they themselves had ever had children.
I didn't know that seeing her would affect me so much. I saw echoes of my daughter in her - the long limbs, the tightly curled fists, the pinkness of being newly born. I wondered about her mother. What happened? Who was she? Did she leave her there full well knowing that someone would more than likely find her? I tell myself that if she didn't want her to live there were options too numerous to choose and too heinous to mention. So somewhere inside, she must have wanted to give her a chance, she must have wanted her to live.
The doctors assured us she was perfectly healthy, and that she would be sent to the Osu Childrens Home within a couple of days. They noted too that her chances for being adopted, given her age, were also very high.
While one hears about these things almost everyday, its so sad when you come face to face with it directly. Hoping that all will be well for Agbogbloshie Baby. Am planning to visit her again at the Children's Home, though I also hope that she will be adopted sooner rather than later.