Inside the Orphanage Walls

Last week I had the unexpected opportunity to visit some government institutions with a mission team we met. I heard they were doing work in some orphanages I asked if I could join for a day. As you may know, the work I am doing is focused on family based alternative orphan care. My heart is to move children away from orphanages and into homes and supportive families – through various avenues. In my studies I have come across many topics on short term missions and visiting orphanages. The need to be careful in the attachments we make with the children and that our actions don’t support “poverty tourism”. As skeptical as it sounds, you also have to go in with the realization that there is so much more below the surface than what you see and that not everything can be taken at face value. … there can be ulterior motives to the information you are given. 

That being said, I was hesitant to go to the orphanages, but knew I needed to see first hand what I was studying the “alternative” form. Ethiopia only has 3 government ran orphanages (all of which I visited), but over 70 privately ran one's in the capital alone. My time spent to the 3 orphanages was eye opening, and yet also so confusing. I left feeling more conflicted about what I believe and the opinions I hold. The situations were not good, in the slightest, yet I found that there were moments where maybe they were providing more than what that child would have otherwise. It puts a fire in my bones to work harder at the things I am called to, but I’m also grieved for the gaps and the children currently caught in the system. It made me reconsider how quickly I was dismissing the work of the orphanage. Yes, these kids too need so much love and care. How can we attend to their needs as they have found themselves in a place that they did not choose or deserve? At this point, I don’t feel comfortable sharing all that I saw and experienced at the orphanages. I don’t feel my words are worthy of expressing it all, and I also want to be careful with what I share about the kids I met and saw. 

I can say, I understand why orphanages are so fundable. Why people feel the burden to go and love the children there. I loved lighting up those girls faces as I blew bubbles, just like the person next to me. But I also carry in the back of my mind the weight of broken attachments as their little eyes look at me and she asks me again, “will you come back?”. What do I say? As I was in a small room with itty bitty babies all staring at the ceiling from their cribs, the smallest screams. I touch his soft arm and my heart is undone. We have to do something. We must do something.