"Care for us and accept us — we are all human beings. We are normal. We have hands. We have feet. We can walk, we can talk, we have needs just like everyone else — don't be afraid of us — we are all the same!" – Nkosi Johnson

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Where it all started

His biological mother decided early in her pregnancy that she would give him up for adoption. His ‘new parents’ and hospital staff eagerly awaited his arrival. On 20 August 1999 the baby boy was born at the hospital in Thabazimbi, Limpopo province, South Africa. My mother, a sister at the hospital, assisted with the birth. The biological mother showed no interest in her baby after the birth. She simply closed her eyes and turned her back on her baby.

Tests revealed that he was HIV positive. Because he needed a name they called him Andries after the doctor who treated Andries after he was born.

Because of severe intra uterine rejection Andries lay curled in the fetal position, eyes shut and his tiny hands balled in fists. He showed no interest in his surroundings. It broke my mother’s heart. In all the years she’s been a nurse, she’d never seen a new born baby in such distress. It took a lot of dedication to get him to relax enough so show interest and open his hands. She spent hours holding and cuddling him, talking to him, turning him, because he wouldn’t turn himself.

The quest

By the end of the year, my dad had heard so much about Andries that he visited the hospital to see what the fuss was about. My dad stood at Andries’ bed and asked what would happen to him during the holidays. My mom explained that he wasn’t sick, didn’t need any medical care other than being cleaned and fed.
At that stage the social worker had started the process to take him to a welfare facility. My mother didn’t want Andries to go to a home and so they decided to take Andries with them on holiday and look for parents to adopt him. They got permission from court and the hospital and a stern warning from the social worker not to get emotionally involved. My parents stopped at various towns to ask local newspapers to run a story about Andries to try to find someone to adopt him. No luck.

While on holiday, for the first time since he was born, he started smiling and reacting to the world around him.
When they returned in January, Andries had to go back to hospital. He immediately curled up and closed his eyes. She couldn’t stand for him to be disrupted and knew he would disappear into himself if he went to a home. Every time the social worker came to fetch him, she’d hide him under a table in the nurse’s station. She played for time and kept praying for parents for Andries.

The decision was made

One morning she said to my brother, Oliver that she feels so desperate. She keeps asking God to send Andries parents, but nobody wants him and the social worker wants to take him away.
Oliver was twelve at the time. He said: “But Mom, don’t you see? God wants YOU to be his mother. She said she was too old to have a baby in the house. Oliver said: "Don't worry mom. Andries will see you’re old. He won’t ask you to play cricket with him.” (he did ask her to play cricket when he was about three – my mom was so happy that he considered her young enough to still play!)

Soon after that my mom packed all his clothes and took him home with her. She said: “If anybody wants to adopt him, they can come and adopt him from my home.”

It was easy. The court granted my parents guardianship over Andries (they were too old, by law, to adopt).

The first time I met Andries, I was dead-set not to get attached. I didn’t want to bond with him in case he was taken away. Man alive! All he needed was to look in my eyes, grab my finger and I was smitten!

Acceptance , Happiness , Life

My parents stayed in a small mining community. The day we christened Andries, the church was so full that people stood outside looking through the windows. After the service we had a get together at home. One lady asked doctor Andries how old he thought Andries would get. He looked at him and said: “He’ll be lucky to see two, but he’ll definitely not make it to four.” I almost chocked on my tongue, but I realised that day, that it was now my family’s truth.

Clothes and toys just got dropped off. The out pour of love and acceptance by the community was unreal.

Andries was tested again at eighteen months in the hope that he might have outgrown the virus, but we weren’t so lucky. In 2001 Nkosi Johnson, a South African child with HIV/AIDS died at the age of 12. At the time it was unheard of that a child born with HIV lived that long.
We never expected Andries to live to four, but before we knew it, he was ready to go to school.

About fourteen years ago his biological mother was admitted to hospital. My mother went to see her and told her about Andries and what an amazing boy he turned out to be. My mother offered to bring him around for her to meet him, but she wasn’t ready yet she said. She died the next day.

When he was six, he asked my mom where she got him from. Not knowing what to say she said: “I got you from Jesus’ hands”. He said: “Yes, I know. But where did you get me?” She told him that he was born in hospital and he chose her to be his mother. Whenever he heard her voice, his eyes would follow the sound of her voice. I once asked Andries if he ever wondered about his biological parents. He said: “No, I have a real family.”

In grade seven Andries was elected prefect of his school. That year, for the first time ever, a special certificate was issued to Andries for the most helpful, courteous, kind and respectful learner of the year. That describes the little boy who is fast becoming a man that we now call our own. He’s always helpful, always considerate of others and kind above all.

Yesterday Andries turned seventeen years old!

He’s an avid hip-hop dancer and gamer. He loves swimming. He loves animals (domestic and wild). He could name them all on game drives by the time he was four. He doesn’t like maths, but loves business economics. He plans to start his own business one day. He loves music and target shooting.
We don’t refer to Andries as adopted. He might be, but he’s anything but. We refer to and accept him as our son, our brother, our uncle, our cousin. He’s a blessing and we’re lucky to have him in our lives.
I love my brother as I love all my brothers and sisters.
I thank God for every day we have him and my parents who didn’t abandon him when others did.

(Andries, Mom Ria and Dad Iain)

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