I didn’t give birth to them, and they live thousands of miles away from me…but I have come to consider them as my own. This is the story of how we met...

The day before I left Gulu, I had a meeting at one of the grassroots organizations I was working with. It is an organization founded by and for people living with HIV/AIDS. During this meeting a representative of the organization, Gabriel, told me that in addition to working with people living with HIV/AIDS, they also did a lot of work with AIDS orphans and child-headed households. I had heard this term "child-headed households" used before in my line of work but had never seen one in "real life" and wasn't sure exactly what it meant.In order to get a better understanding of this concept, I asked Gabriel if we could visit one of these "child-headed households". Due to time limitations and security concerns we couldn't visit one of the families they usually work with, but Gabriel said there was another child-headed family right around the corner from their office that we could visit if I was interested. I said sure. He warned me that what I was about to see would be very difficult but that it was important I didn't cry in front of the children because it would just make them feel worse about their situation. I agreed that I would not cry (a real challenge for me because anything having to do with children and it's Niagara Falls).

We walked down the street and around the corner and there they were. I stopped and stared- my mouth open in complete shock and disbelief. Outside of a hut, two small babies sat naked, dirty, and unattended. We looked inside the hut and found it empty with a pot of porridge on an open fire simmering and threatening to boil over. Alice, a volunteer community worker for the organization, turned off the fire and asked a few neighbors who had wandered over where the twins' older sister was. Someone went off to look for her and about ten minutes later she appeared. At first I mistook her for a boy and asked "Where is the little girl who also lives here?". "She is right there." Alice replied pointing to a thin child who wore only a dirty pair of shorts. And there she was, standing right in front of me, shyly looking down at her bare mud covered feet. I looked at her and then back at the twinsI couldn't fathom how these children could possibly raise themselves. They were so young.We went inside the hut and sat down. A few neighbors who did what they could to help the family had also joined us in the hut. Gabriel wanted to know what the family's most immediate needs were and how best to address them. Gabriel first began to address his questions to the little girl. She answered one question quietly never making eye contact. Then she stopped responding and just began to stare off into space. Gabriel turned his attention toward the neighbors and began to interview them on the family's situation.Since I don't speak Lwo, I couldn't understand what they were saying so my attention quickly turned toward the children. The little girl was stoic and still staring off into space completely indifferent to what was happening around her. On the ground beside her, her baby sister was trying to climb into her lap and cuddle with her. She didn't look down once. Her baby brother sat on the floor without moving. I tried to engage him by rolling a battery towards him. He didn't react. Meanwhile, the baby girl was still trying to climb into her older sister's lap who remained impervious to her attempts. The boy yawned a couple of times, bent over to lay his head down on a rolled up straw mat and fell asleep.Finally, the baby girl managed to tumble into her sister's lap, who for the first time broke her trance, looked down, smiled, and held her in her arms. It was a one minute window into a life that could have been. Then it was over and she went back to her silent spell.A neighbor motioned for her to change her brother's sleeping position so that he would be lying down and not in the awkward position he fell asleep in. She moved him with some difficulty. I then slid a bottle of water across the floor towards her. She glanced at it out of the corner of her eye and looked away. About a minute later she picked it up, opened it, and took a few gulps. Then she put the bottle of water down and began staring off into space again. A neighbor nudged her again and indicated that she should give some of the water to her sister as well. She did it and went back staring off into space.After Gabriel finished interviewing the neighbors we left the hut and went for lunch (I first made an excuse to stop at the hotel and cried for about five minutes). During lunch, all I could think about were those children and the fact that they were all alone and their family had absolutely nothing.Gabriel began to tell me their story, a tragic story that millions of orphans throughout Africa experience every day. Their father died of AIDS two years ago and their mother is currently bedridden with AIDS. She cannot secure her children's physical or emotional health because she is too weak to work and too sick to hold them. They eat once a day and the twins at age two, do not crawl, stand, or walk. Their tummies are constantly swollen with the telltale signs of severe malnourishment and their eyes are mostly vacant and listless. They have been ostracized by their community due to the stigma surrounding their father's death and their mother's illness. Parents pull their children away from them and if it weren't for the kind hearts of a few caring neighbors they would probably be dead by now. Everything they have was donated by neighbors, down to the one mat they all sleep on. Being alone, they have no source of income and the babies have no clothes. Adong, their older sister only has a pair of shorts.

I felt as though I had to do something for them. Call it maternal instincts I don't know. I just knew that there was no way that 7 year-old was capable of raising those babies all by herself. I asked Gabriel if he could take me to the market and help me pick out food and clothes for them. He agreed and after attending a meeting scheduled for that afternoon we went to the market. The market in Gulu is unlike other markets in Africa I've been to. Since it is essentially a war zone, there are of course no tourists, and therefore the market only has commodities; clothes, mattresses, nails, food just the basics what people need- no artwork, no music, no books.

So we go towards the clothes section and you can tell that these are second hand clothes that were most likely donated by American families. I found it a bit unnerving that clothes that people donate so others can have for free were being sold and I mentioned this to Gabriel. He said maybe they were re-cooping on the transportation costs. Somehow, I doubted that but didn't press the matter further. Then Gabriel turns to me and says "Why do people in America give away their clothes?". I thought about it for a second. "Well, some people outgrow their clothes and decide to give them away or if they don't like those clothes anymore they give the away and um." In a town where 80f the population is displaced, and where many people have only one or two sets of clothes trying to explain American consumerism felt at bit strange.While shopping, I insisted that we also pick out a pretty dress for Adong. In Gulu, most young children wear their hair very short and the easiest way (at least for me) of knowing who is a boy and who is a girl is if they are wearing a dress. I also noticed that girls who could afford to liked to wear little barrettes in their hair and plastic bracelets and necklaces. I just had a feeling that it might be important to Adong to have a dress like the other little girls in her neighborhood. In any case, I found a really cute purple and white dress and after purchasing a few outfits for her and the twins, we picked out a foam mattress, sheets, and a blanket. Then we moved toward the food which was consisted mainly of grains and beans and bought the most nutritious food we could find with plenty of protein in particular.

Once we finished getting everything, we went back to see the family, and there they were- the babies, back on the ledge, just sitting there unattended, not moving or crying or anything. Adong was mostly likely off collecting firewood or fetching water. We emptied the car and spoke with the neighbors and the head of the village (a woman) about what we had brought and asked that they help manage the food for the children. Gabriel said he would be checking in to see that the children were eating and improving.As he continued to talk with the neighbors, I sat down next to the baby boy (whose name, I learned later was Opio) and picked him up. I was surprised by how light and frail he was. His huge stomach was misleading and you almost expected him to be heavy, but he was so light and fragile. I held him in my arms and tried to interact with him. I tickled his feet and tried to make him laugh but he didn't react. So I just held him instead. I held him really close to me wishing that I could nurse him back to health with care and affection alone. While I was holding him, I observed Adong, who had just arrived, to see how she was reacting to what was going on around her. For the most part she was very quite and still looking down a lot. Gabriel then pulled out the purple dress and she stood up and reached for it with a huge smile on her face. We were all taken a little bit aback because it was the first time we saw her smile that day- it made the rest of us smile too. The neighbors put the dress on her and everyone stood around admiring her. Wow! You are so beautiful! That dress fits you perfectly! They also dressed the babies and we took a picture with the digital camera. I showed the picture to Adong and she smiled for the second time when she saw the image of her and her siblings.Then, it was time to go. I extended my hand to her and she shook it shyly. I then extended my hand to Opio and he very slowly, almost in slow motion, raised his hand to my level so that I could take a hold of it and shake it. It was the first time he seemed to respond to anything. I extended my hand to his twin sister and she responded in the same slow motion way.In those little hand shakes I saw a ray of hope, a will to live, and the fight for survival that still existed in their tiny bodies. It inspired me to do whatever I could to help them.

On my way home that evening, I ran into a woman named Jolly who I had met through young filmmakers who were making a documentary called "Invisible Children" about the Night Commuters of Gulu. I began telling Jolly about the family I had just met and the state the children were in and the fact that they were all alone. Before I knew it, I found myself sobbing and asking Jolly if she would please go visit them and just hold them and check on them from time to time. I told her that I would leave some money for their care before I left and would continue to send money for them once I returned home. She promised me she would go see them.As promised, she did go see them and took them to a doctor. We learned that all three were suffering from malaria, worms, and malnourishment and both twins were HIV positive...

Since that encounter I have returned to the States and continue to send money for their care. I speak to Jolly about once a week and she has since become very attached to the family. After their mother passed in November 2005 they moved in with her. The children call her aunty and Jolly and others send me regular updates on how they're doing: "They're standing on their own! They're walking! They're talking! They're smiling! They're laughing! They're playing!

Days before I spoke to Jolly about this family, she had just buried her own sister whom she'd lost to AIDS and was already caring for her orphaned nephews and nieces in addition to her own children. Despite this, she did not hesitate to agree to help me with this family and for that I am forever grateful to and in great admiration of her. I returned to Gulu in November 2005 to spend Thanksgiving with Jolly and the kids. We had a great time.

Copyright Melissa Adams