February 26, 2006 at 12:47 pm (Alexander, In the news)
L-R: Christopher, Alexander and cousin Tiffany, then aged 5, frolicking with Daddy in 1-Utama.
A long time ago, I wrote in Inspirations that the most beautiful word in the world is Home. I have not changed since. Home is still that one most fundamental element in life. To some it means a safe haven. To another it may mean a dream house. To most Home is family and loved ones.
It is therefore with great sympathy this morning that I read the story of Li Qifang and his wife, Pu Caiju who lost their 4 year old son to child trafficking, a growing problem in China. After 2 years of heartbreaking search they finally had a breakthrough and located him 2,000 km away from home but just as they were on the verge of bringing their son home, he disappeared. Absolutely heartrending story. The mother is still keeping her child’s toys safe for when he comes home.
On a similar note, here is a most riveting account of the life of a stolen child, Huang Xiu Xiu.
I remember how each time we were on holiday in Malaysia I would get awfully paranoid about keeping a close watch on my kids. One day, when the kids were 5, I was busy setting up an outdoor bbq stove when Christopher came running to me with a stricken look on his face, “Mummy, Alexander is lost!!!”
Alexander had been coming out of our apartment with his aunt and a few other family members when a lift door accidentally closed on him. Though it happened in the relatively secure confines of a condo block in Gohtong, we just about panicked and spreading out, we searched frantically on all 18 floors. Daddy and Auntie LY finally found him alone and frightened outside the lift on one of the upper floors. At the sight of his Daddy, the poor frightened child burst into tears and howled in his father’s arms.
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February 19, 2006 at 10:57 am (In the news)
Eight years after our marriage, the boys were born. They were not IVF babies although it took us 2 years of trying before they were conceived. I was then 32 and Andrew 42. Andrew looked and in truth was healthier and fitter than any young man 20 years his junior. Therefore at no time during my pregnancy nor the early years thereafter was there any hint of guilt that perhaps, just perhaps it might be unfair to the kids, and therefore selfish on our parts, that we had delayed parenthood for so long.
Then a health crisis struck when the kids were aged 6, wee babies in just Year 1 Primary. Their daddy aged 49, was diagnosed with colon cancer. Surgery and chemotherapy followed. During those harrowing six months, I began to feel the ugly pain of conscience for the first time. I felt that we had done any unjustice to our kids. It is hardly uncommon for major health problems to strike once you are 50 and over. Why did we not see this before? It is hardly fair to the kids. Thankfully we have put all that behind us now ** touch wood **.
Several years ago, there was a debate here in Oz about the rights of lesbian couples to state-funded IVF services. At no stage was there any talk of the rights of the unborn child yet-to-be fetus.
Today, yet again, I read about a blind and diabetic 62 year old woman, Janis Wulf, giving birth through IVF in California, USA.
There are legislation galore protecting the rights of the unborn fetus in the arena of stem cell research despite the enormous benefits to humankind of such research. Yet ironically there does not appear to be much concern for the rights of the yet to be fetus in the liberal availability of IVF services.
It is ludicrous to think that something that does not yet exist, the unformed fetus, warrants no consideration in the making of IVF ethical guidelines.
Is IVF all about money? Does this mean that anyone who can afford private IVF clinics has a right to IVF? It appears that in the real world, money talks. IVF clinics need to survive. To survive they need dosh. Any dosh.
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November 25, 2005 at 11:42 pm (In the news)
Suddenly it seems the news is full of Australians caught trafficking drugs in neighbouring Asian countries. First was Schapelle Corby in Bali, then some Asian-Australian man in Vietnam, then Michelle Leslie in Bali again, now Nguyen in Singapore.
When the Corby case first came to light, Australia erupted in a frenzy. On the day of her court verdict, Australians at home and at work sat glued to the TV which ran a live telecast. It was like the Melbourne Cup race stretched over half a day. Feelings ran high. 9 out of 10 Australians I spoke to thought she was innocent. In the midst of that, some of us observed wryly that somehow, Australians of Asian ancestry in the same plight overseas did not quite receive as much attention.
Van Nguyen’s death penalty in Singapore is therefore an eye opener. There is a lot more publicity than I would have expected. Unlike Corby, this case did not quite touch the same chord with the people because Nguyen is a self confessed trafficker, all of 400g of heroin.
Nevertheless, what this case demonstrates, as have all the others, is that Australians are extremely protective of their own, like a mother hen guarding her young. Regardless of the severity of the crime committed, what matters to them is that one of their own is in serious trouble away from home. When it happens to one of their own, they would do all they can to try to bring him home. Just as a mother would always support her child in need, no matter how wrong he had been. You cannot reason with a mother’s heart.
My heart goes out to the condemned man’s mother, Kim. In the precious few days leading up to the scheduled execution on Dec 2, she is allowed only 1 hour each day with her son and even then, cannot hug or touch him because of the security glass barrier. Totally heart wrenching.
I am reminded of a similar case when Australians Brian Chambers and Kevin Barlow were hanged in Kuala Lumpur in 1986 for trafficking just 145 grams of heroin. I had been in Australia then for all of 3 years and was absolutely indignant at the condescenscion of remarks about Malaysia’s barbaric system of justice. This time round, my once hardline views have softened, gradually sliding to the left unnoticed. Perhaps it is the outcome of years in a kinder, gentler and more forgiving society. Or the mellowing experience of Motherhood.
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