We were now happily settled in Yorkshire. The one thing that we wanted to make our life complete was to be a family. We both wanted children and wanted to start a family as soon as possible and now we had found out that Joyce wasn’t able to have children we found ourselves looking further afield.
Joyce through her work had made many contacts with the Pakistani and Indian communities but also with the Bangladeshi community. She found out that here was a government orphanage in Dacca that did allow a small number of babies to be adopted by foreigners.
Joyce immediately wrote including an excellent reference from Bangladeshi organizations she had worked with or had connections with in Bradford. In addition, she described in some detail her work and that if we did adopt a baby from Bangladesh it would grow up in a city with plenty of other people from Bangladesh.
She was absolutely delighted with a prompt response. It said yes that it was possible but that we would need to provide bank, social services and other references.
None of this proved any problem and in due course we put the package together. Joyce through her job often knew people flying back to the Asian sub-continent including Dacca so she was able to arrange for someone to take our papers personally into the office’s orphanage and put in a good word for us.
If my memory serves me right this was in November 1976 and we waited anxiously to see what might evolve. We had been told that things would probably happen slowly but I was now 38 and Joyce 34 so we didn’t want to wait too long before becoming parents.
Then in one marvellous day in March a letter arrived from Bangladesh. Joyce tore the letter open and I could see from the delighted look on her face, the news was good. She showed me the short letter. It said quite simply that we had been allocated Monu.
She was born 10 March 1977 but apparently was not well and we should wait until she was better before we made the long trek to Bangladesh to adopt her under Bangladeshi law and return with her to the UK.
Joyce sat down and cried but I knew only too well they were tears of joy. Over the next three months we waited and waited but no letter came. The end of the winter term arrived and we still hadn’t heard. Everything was in place even the name Sarah was chosen after my mother who was, of course, delighted by our choice although we chose the name because we liked it as well.
The only news we received was the briefest messages that we should be patient and wait until, from their end, all the formalities and paperwork had been completed. Joyce was beside herself and urged me to action. I couldn’t quite see what I could do. If I wrote too often it might well be counter-productive.
June came and passed and summer term would end soon and still we had not heard anything despite our frequent letters to Bangladesh. July was upon us and we decided that if we hadn’t heard by the end of July we would go and find out what was happening. The end of July was nearly upon us when we put our plans into operation.
July arrived and halfway through the month we would be breaking up for summer vacation. As usual I prayed and reflected and decided that if we hadn’t heard anything by the end of the month we would go to Bangladesh. It would be, of course, a huge gamble. At this point we didn’t even know if Sarah was legally ours or if it would be possible to adopt her.
Day by day, the end of the month came nearer and still nothing. Decision day came and I booked flights to Dacca for the beginning of August. Joyce was totally relieved and we planned for what turned out to be the trip of a lifetime.
We obtained the necessary visas and planned what to take or to be more accurate made a list of all the baby items we believed we should take.
We arrived in Dacca on a hot, humid day. We had been fortunate to find an English person, Tony, to stay with and he picked us up at the airport and drove us back to his place. Joyce was continually asking Tony about the orphanage. She explained to him how anxious we were about Sarah. Tony told us that as soon as we dropped off our luggage at his place he would take us there.
He lived in one of the best areas of Dacca, Dhanmondi and the orphanage was quite near. I guess under normal circumstances after the very long flight and all the excitement of the preceding weeks, we naturally would have been very tired. However, we were so excited about seeing Sarah all tiredness was put aside.
We arrived at Tony’s place, unloaded our luggage and continued to the orphanage. The people there were amazed to see us. It was surreal. As if an English couple had decided on their way home from a meeting or gathering had popped in for a cup of tea. We were introduced to the administrator who fortunately spoke good English. She told us to call her Brinda.
We explained who we were and that we had been allocated Monu and waited for a response, breathless and in a state of total nervousness and excitement. Brinda gave what were I believed some orders to one of the workers who hurried off. She explained to us that under the regulations babies could not be given to adoptive parents unless they were in good health and that Monu had not been well for some time.
I could see Joyce painfully taking in the news. So that is why we had not heard anything. Joyce asked Brinda whether it was possible to see Monu and Brinda explained that that was what she was arranging. We made polite conversation for some minutes although every second seemed an hour. At long last one of the helpers came in carrying a baby.
Joyce didn’t wait; I guess her whole being was waiting for this moment. She immediately went to the helper and gently took the baby from her. The helper looked at Brinda but she merely smiled and the helper disappeared. Brinda told us that yes, this was Monu. We clearly could see that she wasn’t well. All her eyes displayed were suffering and they looked out unsmiling and almost full of despair and hopelessness.
She was covered in boils and scabies but Brinda explained to us what was really making her ill was dysentery. I foolishly asked what treatment she was receiving for this and Brinda almost apologetically said the orphanage could not afford medications of any kind so Monu wasn’t receiving any treatment of any sort for her ailments and in particular, her dysentery.
Brinda kindly said she would leave us alone with Monu for a little while and left the room. Joyce was almost crying and she held this very precious baby that meant everything to us and who obviously was very ill. We knew now whey we hadn’t been informed when we could come and collect Monu. She had been too ill to travel and by the look of her now she was extremely ill.
Joyce quietly told me that she wasn’t going to leave Monu in a place where she was not receiving treatment and that she would leave me to sort it out (thanks Joyce!). Joyce was utterly absorbed in gently talking to Monu but all Monu did was to peer with those very tired and beseeching eyes at Joyce.
I sat there, wondering what to do when Brinda returned. Brinda could see that Joyce was totally absorbed with Monu so she asked me how did I feel about the situation, and in particular, about Monu. Perhaps she thought we might have been in some way put off seeing this very ill baby and that we wouldn’t be interested in pursuing adopting Monu. Nothing could have been further from the truth.
I told her truthfully that we loved this little baby as if she were our own and that we hoped we could go ahead as quickly as possible with the formalities. I added that obviously one of the main obstacles, if not the main obstacle was Monu’s health and appreciated that it was our main concern as I’m sure it was for her.
I believe Brinda appreciated not only what I said but the manner in which I said it. She said yes that Monu’s health would be the main obstacle but that there was very little the orphanage could do with extremely limited resources. That gave me the opening I was looking for. I asked if there was any chance of us being allowed to take her to a doctor and that we would be more than happy to purchase any medication Monu needed.
There was a long pause. I guess Brinda was balancing the fact that Monu obviously needed urgent medical attention but presumably this would be in contravention of the regulations in that Monu would be taken out of the orphanage. Balanced against this was the fact that Monu was slowly dying and presumably the regulations were there to ostensibly protect the babies. If Monu died because of such regulations it would be a result that was directly opposite to what was intended.
I could see and appreciate Brinda’s dilemma. I quickly added that we were staying with Tony who worked for the British Council and that he would gladly vouch for us. I would give her his phone number and address and also the phone number and address of the doctor where we would be taking Monu as soon as we had it and that I would phone her as many times during the day as she wanted to let her know our whereabouts.
I’m not sure how much of this had an effect, probably the key was that we were staying with someone from the British Council and that person could vouch for us. After further hesitation and deliberation Brinda at long last said ok. Joyce was delighted, got up with Monu and said there was not time to lose and that we should get Monu to a doctor immediately.
I don’t think Brinda intended for us to take Monu that same time but Joyce was near the door, I followed and it was almost a fait accompli before Brinda could do anything. Joyce was near to tears as she thanked Brinda and said that we would return with Monu to the orphanage tomorrow. We quickly departed, took a rickshaw back to Tony’s place and sought his advice about a doctor.
He said he knew of a Canadian doctor close by and that he could take us there. Before long we were sitting in the doctor’s room and he examined Monu. He asked us how we had become involved with her and we told him something of our story. While we were doing this he examined her and told us there was both bad and good news. She was very ill mainly because she was extremely weak because of the dysentery.
He added that it was a good job we had come because it was doubtful whether she would have lived another week as she was growing weaker by the hour. The good news was that as far as he could ascertain, but he added the qualification that as she was so ill it was very difficult to make a clear diagnosis, but that hopefully there was nothing wrong with her that a course of antibiotics could not cure. We came out, rushed to a dispensary and got the proscribed antibiotics.
We returned to Tony’s and gave her the first of the antibiotics. We settled in and then had to work out where was she going to sleep. We had a double bed with, of course, the mandatory mosquito curtains. The mosquito curtains were very necessary and there was no way we would have let Monu sleep without being protected but such curtains but in any case there was no couch, easy chair or suchlike. What were we to do?
We solved this particular problem by emptying our suitcase and folding some of our clothing to make a comfortable bed in our suitcase for the little one. We put the suitcase at the bottom of the bed. Monu was so weak she just slept without making any sound at all. Next day we returned to the orphanage with her, showed her to Brinda and said that Monu was taking antibiotics and that it was crucial for her recovery that she took the doses as necessary.
Would it be possible for us to keep her so that we knew she was receiving her medication at the proper times? We would bring her in every day and of course, Brinda had our phone number.
I think that at that point Brinda realized that we were not going to do anything improper and told us that provided we kept very quiet about what was happening we could keep Monu in order for her to receive her correct medication and that provided we kept in daily contact by phone, there would be no need to come in every day.
She also said that once we knew Monu was recovering she would see that the paperwork went through as quickly as possible. She showed us around the small orphanage. This particular orphanage was for babies only and they were all packed into one room. As far as I could see there were about thirty cots and in each cot there were two babies.
Brinda explained that she only had a few helpers as the government could only afford very limited financial support. The helpers had very little time to do anything else but as the saying goes, “top and tail” each baby. By that I mean feed them and see they were clean. Otherwise they had to help keep the orphanage clean.
It meant that babies were rarely cuddled or held. We realized how unhappy Monu must have been; at least we could do something for her but I also vowed to come to the orphanage as often as I could and help if this was allowed. Brinda said that would be ok as long as I didn’t come too often.
The week passed very quickly. Joyce held Monu all day long and slowly we began to see a recovery. After seven days, a magic moment came and for the first time, perhaps for the first time in her life, Monu smiled. It was a very weak smile but it was a smile. I think at that moment we knew she was going to be ok.
I think that day was very special to us. We took Monu to the orphanage and she managed to perform and give a very weak smile. Everyone was delighted especially Brinda. Brinda also said that would make sure the papers would go through as soon as possible so that Monu would be legally ours and when that process was complete, there was nothing stopping us from returning to the UK.
I did return to the orphanage on a few occasions and cuddled as many babies as I could. On one of those days I met a Canadian young lady, Amy, who was helping out. She was delighted to meet me as she had heard the story about Monu and how two Brits had suddenly dropped in for a cup of tea from the UK to collect their little one. It was one of the few times I managed a laugh during those stressful weeks.
We talked and during our conversation the subject cropped up about the babies’ health. There was one baby I had cuddled who was not there when I returned on another day and I was told that she had died. I mentioned this to Amy and said that I wondered how many survived. She replied that the vast majority did although they did lose a few.
I foolishly asked who took care of their burials. Amy was very quiet and then I could see she was almost fighting back tears. She told me that the orphanage had no money for burials so they were wrapped up, placed and rolled tightly up in black trash bags and disposed of in that way.
I have never forgotten that. That perhaps a few babies died because there was no-one to cuddle them and were disposed of in that way. Sometimes life can be very hard and painful. I have had a considerable number of frustrations. Yet when I think of babies dying because there was no-one to cuddle them or because they did not receive simple medication that cost only a few dollars, and then they are disposed of in that way, it certainly enables one to view one’s own disappointments in a different perspective.
Monu continued to recover and Brinda keep her promise and some seven days later we were asked to go before a judge for the final formality of adopting Monu. When completed, and we had only been in Bangladesh a little over two weeks, we flew back to the UK. Finally, much to the delight of everyone, we had returned with our baby whom we had baptized after my mother, Sarah.
In 1978 the local newspaper got hold of the story and Sarah became famous locally. Soon after we were contacted by one of the Sunday papers and they ran a story on our adventure.
Following that we were contacted by a reporter from one of the two main women’s’ magazines in the UK and they ran a main story on how we adopted Sarah. The contents of all these articles and others can be read in Appendix 1 “How we adopted Sarah.”
Some Experience! 