Madonna have Mercy on me

So the Material Girl has been granted full adoption rights by the court in Malawi to 3-year old Mercy whose mother died soon after her birth. Her biological father had read the script like so many other men and walked out during the pregnancy. The little matter of qualifying residency has been waived not least because the court recognised that one Madonna Louise Ciccone has spent over Ksh1.4 billion through her charity Raising Malawi which provides care for more than one million orphans. The predictable media frenzy hasn’t disappointed with the usual suspects crying foul, 'ooh look, another case of celebrity special treatment'. Even that old chestnut racism has been bandied around.

These hypocrites really boil my piss, armchair critics quick to read mischief from what little is gleaned from news reports. I’ve got some questions for anonymous who’ll no doubt send me abusive comments: Where are you while little Mercy and millions of others languish in orphanages? We never see your indignation at the plight of families too poor whose only choice for their kids is adoption. You continue to vote in individuals who use your taxes to corruptly enrich themselves while refusing to pay taxes themselves. These are the same people who would be against gay adoption; they’d rather the children were raised in faceless institutions. I think the word I’m looking for here is ENVY.

So for me Madonna’s victory is my victory! Common sense prevails over ignorance and fear. Now Mercy James will join Lourdes, Rocco and Banda in the Vogue household. I say cheers, chin chin (tea-cups) and good for you, may you have a long, happy life.

Labour Joys

The number of street children in Nairobi is not as large as it was some 6 or so years ago but escalating poverty levels means that those abandoned are now returning to roam dangerous streets. Years ago I joined a men's group that supports a children’s charity home, heartbroken and frustrated from seeing innocent kids begging in a city that also shamelessly showcases the finest cars.

So a group of us spent a very rewarding Labour day visiting the kids rather than waste time watching the official ‘celebrations’ on TV. We went in a convoy of 8 cars, bearing gifts of provisions and soft drinks. The people who run the home are just wonderful, their angelic wards seemed naturally happy, smiling and playing just as in a family setting. We had a lunch of goat stew and rice with chapatis and afterwards the children put on a show for us. I can’t tell you enough the joy I felt watching them but also the sadness of what their own ‘natural’ parents are missing. I also felt a sadness that as a gay man I couldn’t enjoy these unique pleasures since adoption by gay men is automatically prohibited here. But I still had fun and even one of the boys was teaching me how to crip walk which was farcical given that I’m nearly 40 and not exactly nimble on my feet. I googled the moves Moses was showing me, you can see a good example below but please don’t ask to see my crashing version of it!



Since I got home we’ve had more drinks and I’m more than ʎsd!ʇ, I’ll post the rest of Norma’s story tomorrow. It turned out well in the end.