My name is Marigan, and I want to say hello everyone who will read my story.
My first husband passed away when I was four months pregnant with our second child. After his death, my first child (Hope) and I lived in town without any support. Despite my being pregnant, Hope and I were abandoned by everyone, including my late husband’s family. Life became much harder than it had been when he was alive. Not long after his death, I was laid off from my job. I had been earning twenty dollars each month, but I suddenly had no income whatsoever. Unable to continue paying our monthly rent, Hope and I had to move out of our home. We were suddenly homeless--without food, without clothing, and without medication. My eyes were filled with tears every day.
Even when my husband was alive, money was tight. I only went to the hospital twice to receive prenatal care before his death. After his death, I couldn’t afford any prenatal care. During my eighth month, I started having contractions so I decided to sleep at the hospital’s main gate, hoping someone might have mercy on me and help me with my medical expenses. In Togo, people must pay for medical care before they receive treatment. If a person cannot pay, no care will be given. At the gate, my contractions became worse. It was a terrible time.
One day, while I was sitting in front of the hospital, a seller of oranges saw me and approached. When I told her why I was there, she asked passersby to help me into the hospital. She then took my other child, Hope, into her house with her. Four hours later, I had twins by C-section: one boy and one girl. The birth of my twins should have brought me great joy; instead, it brought me misery. I had no way of taking care of them, no way of providing a home for them, not even food or clothing. Life became even harder, and I wanted to die after seeing my twins.
The next day I had a visit from a woman name Pascaline and a man name gabriel . They presented themselves as members of a social relief organization called Social Rehabilitation and Education of Childhood in Underprivileged Areas, Inc and that they hear my story from the orange seller Sophie. They asked what had happened to me, and I told them everything I’d gone through. Three days later, my newborn girl became seriously ill and was subsequently diagnosed with Necrotizing Enterocolitis (NEC), an infection and inflammation of the intestine. The fourth day, I received a phone call from America. On the phone was a woman named Clarisse She encouraged me to be strong and then paid all my hospital bills, including the ones for my sick child. I spent an entire month in the hospital. Every day, people from Social Rehabilitation and Education of Childhood in Underprivileged Areas visited me. Not only did they bring food and clothing, but they paid all of my family’s medical bills--bills I never could have paid. After I was discharged from the hospital, they rented a one bedroom apartment for me and my children. Today I can call myself a happy mother of three. I love seeing my twins, especially after all that I went through.
May the Lord bless everyone who takes the time to read my story; and may everyone who reads my story join me in thanking the members of Social Rehabilitation and Education of Childhood in Underprivileged Areas, Inc. Clarisse, once again . . . Thank you.