The child of another brand

Answer to SM abt. my previous blogg.
SM: Yes, unfortunately it is true (the stories are true) and the worse part of it is that most of them get lost as children. But also grown-ups...as you can read about in my blogg "Travel over silent water" and cases like the one I will write about in this blogg . . . Why am I so concerned about other people I trauma??? Because I have been there myself . . . The story about how I came out of it is to be found in my book “Tell Me Who I Am” . . . ISBN: 18440 17370

By Kirsten Nour Namskau

The best way of learning a new place, I found out, was to take any bus to the end-station and back again. Write down the number of the bus, from where you took it, where it went around town and the name of the end-station.
Usually, this brings up some funny experiences with the other on the bus and the bus-driver, who believe you have gone lost . . . .
But sometimes, you get witness to something you wish you never had experienced.

As usually, I had taken the bus from where I lived to go for a new route through the city.
When I came to the end-station, I left the bus to go for a walk around to see what the place had to offer. After an hours walk, I went back to the bus-station again to wait for my bus to bring me back home again.
As I was sitting there, I noticed a woman coming with another bus. She was well dressed and had a child at her hand also well dressed. They had just left their bus, but didn’t make any sign of leaving the bus-station, so I assumed that they should continue with another bus.
The woman took her child to a bench and told her to sit there. It was then I noticed that the child had “Downs syndrome”.
It was a beautiful well behaved child about 5 years old. But . . . . she was different than other children, disabled, of a different brand . . . she had “Downs Syndrome.”
Suddenly, the woman made signals to run towards a bus that just started to wheel out from the station. She gave the child a kiss and said: “Sit here until I come back, Maha.”
She started to run towards the bus as the child called for her: “Mom, don’t leave me. Mom, don’t leave me . . . .I’m afraid.”
In a flash of a second, I understood that the woman actually had in her mind to leave the child behind to her own destiny.
I run after the woman and took a hold of her arm.
“You are not leaving your child behind, madam?” I asked
She pulled her arm, looked at me and said: “It’s none of your business. Leave me and let me take the bus.”
“ Not without your daughter, madam” I said “Why do you leave her behind to her own destiny?”
I hold her back until the bus had left. She got angry and said: “ I don’t want her. You don’t know how it is to have a child like that.”
I replied: “That . . . you don’t know anything about, madam. I maybe know more than you ever can imagine. If you don’t want your child, it is a better way of doing this than what you are doing now.”
I continued: “If you don’t want her, why don’t you put her up for adoption or find a good orphanage for her?”
She looked at me, then run to her daughter and gave her a last kiss and said: “Mom loves you. Remember that, sweetie.”
She turned to a man at a distance that also had noticed the scene and said: “Will you look after her for me, I don’t care what you’re doing with her, but I don’t want her.”
Again she went for a bus.
The child started to cry and called: “Mom, please don’t leave me.”
Again I took hold of her and said: “Remember madam, If you leave your child in this way. It will not help if you tomorrow put on a veil to show the people around your false sorrow of the loss of your child.”
She shouted at me : “Let me go, I’m not Muslim so I’m not going to put on any veil.”
“Remember one thing madam” I said, suddenly with calm voice . . . “If you leave your child like this, your God will leave you in the same way in the same minute you enter that bus and as you refuse to look back at your child, your God will not look back at you neither.”
“I only want you to know that, when your life start to go against you.” I ended
She said: “I will not let you convince me to change my mind. She has to leave me.” She gave a nod towards her daughter.
She jumped on a bus and disappeared.
I stood helpless behind and didn’t know what to do. I went towards the girl and thought I maybe could go to the police-station to get an address to any orphanage.

But before I reached her, the man came and took her hand and fast disappeared between all the people.
I felt numb; I didn’t have any good feelings about the man’s intention when it came to the best for the child. He was not from the social level that could do anything, more so . . . I had caught him in rubbing his genitals, while looking at the scene between me and the woman.
I was left behind . . . . without a chance to stop a catastrophe . . . without a chance to help a helpless little child.
How can anyone have a heart to do something like this??
Although this happened many years ago, I cannot forget it. Every time I see a street-child in the streets of Cairo . . . I hear the little girl calling; “Mom, don’t leave me, don’t leave me. I’m afraid, mom.”