Saving Sulema

Sulema's 2 year old nephew in their home

Sulema and I at Escuela Especial

Sulema's bed

As we parked across the street, a 2 year old boy peeked out from the doorway of a broken down home. He watched carefully as we crossed the street and headed in his direction. As we approached the home he disappeared and another face emerged. This was the face of 14 year old Diana, Sulema's older sister. What I learned about this family within the next hour seemed like it could have been a combination of a hundred different hardship stories from a hundred different families, but in this case there was only one family involved. Asking the children "Where is your mother?" turned into a loaded question. She wasn't there, and apparently, she is never there. She returns home twice a month from selling bananas in Managua, about two hours away. Sulema's situation suddenly became clear, she was being raised by her 14 year old sister who cooks for her, dresses her and shares a cot with her. Also sharing the home is their Mother's boyfriend who once broke her nose and ribs after she interrupted his card game and asked him to bring home a bag of rice. When we asked if the other children were being abused we were told that when they try and tell their mother, she doesn't believe them. Another girl comes into the house, it is Rosa, Sulema's 19 year old sister who is the mother to the 2 year old boy we first spotted outside. She lives a few doors down and doesn't seem to know too much about how bad things have gotten with Sulema. The woman who accompanied me from the Ministry of Families (the equivalent of social services in the U.S) questioned her about the filth they were all living in. I then begged to see where Sulema sleeps and reluctantly was granted access to the inside of the house. It reeked of urine and rancid garbage. Diana tells me that Sulema will wake up and just pee on the floor next to the cot they share. The walls consist of garbage bags hanging from the ceiling to divide the room from the rest of the house. The sheet is completely soiled and I can only imagine the infestation of lice on the small pillow the two girls share at night . The girls can't explain the bruises on Sulema and are too terrified to call out their Mother's boyfriend in fear of their own lives. There is not one toy, book or any other indication that any children live in this home. The woman from the Ministry of families cannot remove Sulema from the home because there is no place to take her...because she has special needs.  Her sister tells us that Sulema's mother had given her medication that was the Nicaraguan equivalent of xanex. The woman from the Ministry of Families tells me this is very common because mother's don't know how to deal with a child who is disabled so they just want them to sleep. I cringe at the fact that no matter how bad the situation gets, she is a prisoner in that house. All the Ministry of Families can do is try and educate the kids, taking care of kids, on how to care for Sulema and themselves. She also threatens to take away Rosa's son, the filthy 2 year old running around, only because it's all she can do to scare them into taking care of Sulema.

After a stop at the Health department to report the home and bring more attention to Sulema's situation we get some good news. A team of traveling doctors from Cuba is coming next week and we are able to get Sulema on their list for free healthcare. They will be able to properly diagnose her and then treat her. It is suspected she was shaken as a baby resulting in brain damage. In the mean time we purchased some new sheets and lice shampoo and sent them home with Sulema from school.  With her situation and the limitations for children with special needs in this country it kills me to think that we did all we could do and she still has to go home to that place tonight.

I hit a few more roadblocks as I learn about how many children in this school could have been helped if only their families had money to go to the doctor when they were young. I met with two different boys who both had high fevers when they were babies which resulted in seizures that caused permanent brain damage. If the family had money to take the sick baby to the doctor, the fever would have been broken with medication then the seizures would have never gone that far. I have a really hard time with it being "too late." Even sitting here typing this I can't imagine how those parents feel every day of their lives knowing that $5 worth of medication could have spared their child from a lifetime of being disabled.

It was difficult to return to the school and look Sulema in the eyes without losing it. After standing in her home, knowing she has been abandoned by her mother and hearing that she goes to bed scared every night, it's all almost too much... and then I see her little face. She came over to me, intertwined both her hands and all her fingers with mine, stared straight into my soul....and started to dance and smile. She doesn't speak but at that moment, she didn't have to.