Years ago, while working in a busy hostel, I met a young woman who was addicted to crack cocaine. Amira was 2 years old, and Iman was 4. I was a young mom, who knew little about everything, but wanted to save the world.
I was very afraid for her son, A, who was 6 months old at the time, a little sweetheart with two little teeth that flashed when he smiled up at me for the first time from his stroller.
In my chosen field (of work), words like crack, HIV, suicide, poverty, and prostitution were repeated so many times, that it became something that we took for granted. What wasn’t mentioned and discussed was that there were “mothers” who were in this situation. Mothers who were going through all of these things with their children watching on. (more…)