A Meeting of Mothers

At some point I’m sure every parent worries what would happen to their children if something terrible were to happen to them, as the parent. Simon and I have had to face this question a few times already due to our move across the world, away from family to a place with less-than-adequate healthcare and dangerous roads. What would happen to our baby girl if something were to happen to us? It’s not a question anyone likes to dwell on.

This worry is also shared by Sara* but her circumstances compound the issue. Imagine facing this fear without the safety net of family members stepping in to care for your child. Imagine knowing that you have no savings to provide for them if you were gone. Imagine knowing there is no welfare system to protect your kids in a volatile and often violent neighbourhood. Imagine the weight of responsibility of knowing that feeding your children today depends on your ability to attract men and sell sex today. The thought of providing for them tomorrow is daunting enough, let alone for months or years into the future, especially if the unthinkable happened.

The Plight of a Mother

On a recent visit to one of the main areas of prostitution in central Antananarivo with Domoina, a passionate advocate of vulnerable women, I was privileged to hear Sara’s story first-hand. Illiterate and desperate, Sara turned to prostitution ten years ago. It was the only option she could see for survival. She lives in absolute squalor and, because of her work, she now has two children. Her tiny two-roomed shack also houses her late cousin’s two children and her elderly aunt whom she cares and provides for. One job for six people, four of whom need an education which, of course, costs money. Her ten-year-old son, who is scared of men, told me he was ashamed of her work and people at school don’t like him because of it. He dreams of his mum becoming a seller of fruit and veg - rather than her body - so that they can live in a nice house!

When I asked Sara what her main worries were. She said they were innumerable but, with tears in her eyes, she shared her fears about her own death. As well as worrying about providing for her kids, her other main concern is what will happen to her when she dies. She explained that a friend (also a prostitute) who was murdered appeared to her and warned her to change her ways to avoid ending up in Hell as she had done. She told her how awful eternal punishment was and cautioned her to stop prostituting herself. What was I supposed to say to that? Would it be a lie to tell her that God is gracious to forgive us even if we continue to wilfully sin? How could I tell her to stop doing the only thing that provides for her household, without offering an alternative? Jesus rightly exhorted the woman caught in adultery to “Go and sin no more” [John 8:11]. But what if that woman’s sin was the only means of income for her entire family?

A Cosmic Conundrum

These are deep theological questions, and I do not have any deep theological answers to share. It was difficult to know what to feel in the moment. What to say. How to act. But I was so aware of God’s presence and Him giving me the words to say. I know how much Sara’s situation grieves God. He is even more heartbroken than me at the way men treat her and the way she gives up her body. I asked Sara how I could pray for her and, among other things, she asked that God might provide more clients as business is becoming harder as she ages. Instead, I prayed for God’s protection, care and provision for her and her family in ways they can’t even imagine. I prayed that she might find hope, salvation and peace and know that God has not forgotten her.

I know that Christ and His wonderful Gospel is the final answer to these questions, but it feels incomplete to share the gospel in Word and not reflect God’s love in deed, to offer prayer but not consider the practical provision. As well as the eternal promises that await Sara through the gospel, she needs help and support in the here and now to get out of her dire situation. Perhaps by providing the practical support that she needs; Sara could be released to “Go and sin no more”.

Trying to Help Without Hurting

But, unfortunately, there is no simple solution. As a vazahy (foreigner) here, local people often see dollar signs floating above our heads, so I had to be very clear that is not why I was visiting. Equally, we are rich by comparison and financial aid is possibly one way we can help.

However, I am not yet well-placed to understand the nuances of the culture and language and how assistance could best be delivered. One possible way I can help is through supporting those such as Domoina. She dedicates her life to reaching vulnerable women, understands the context and knows what is effective and what is not. Domoina remembers those women who were helped by her organisation to start up alternative businesses but have sadly fallen back into prostitution. She understands the issues at play, such as the deep shame felt by these women, the power of addiction to drugs and alcohol that has ensnared many of them, and a Malagasy worldview bent towards fatalism. Domoina is an inspiration, I would love to support her and others like her in their God-given callings – especially as backing from their churches often seems to be lacking.

Would you pray with me that I would be able to find my place in helping the vulnerable women of Madagascar? I know that it is God who has placed this passion inside of me, because it is His desire also to see women freed, valued and whole.

Casting Her Cares On Him

I wonder how Sara would feel to have her burden taken away: To no longer feel overwhelmed by her physical, spiritual, and emotional needs. Can you imagine the freedom of knowing her children are safe and provided for? Or the dignity she would experience if she worked a respectable job? How wonderful it would be for this mother to have hope and peace through the assurance that her and her children’s eternal destiny and life is with Jesus. But also, to have confidence that right now the heart of Christ reaches out to her in the depths of her suffering and sin, that He loves her in the muck and mire.

Please pray with me that God’s Kingdom will come in Sara’s life and, indeed, in the lives of the hundreds of other mothers in similar situation across Antananarivo and beyond.

*name changed to protect her identity