Best interest of the child: When international adoption is right

International adoption cases often turn into a fiercely bitter custody battle, with each ‘parent’ accusing the other of the worst faith. The poorer country of origin resents the horde of white folks who whisk off its babies to distant shores, while the wannabe adopters are furious at being criticised for their liberal desire to raise unwanted brown babies. There is a whole lot of shouting about the ‘best interests’ of the child – which is invariably the one issue that never receives serious consideration in all this cultural tu-tu, mein-mein.

But as some cases remind us, international adoptions are not just about cultural one upmanship. On the outcome of each such battle hangs the life of a flesh-and-blood child dragged into a selfish tug-of-war between adults.

Take, for instance, the nasty court battle underway in Bangalore highlighted in the latest issue of Open magazine . Two boys, aged 3 and 1, were left orphaned in 2008 after their mother was raped and murdered by upper caste men, and their father soon after committed suicide. The children were placed in Bapuji Children’s Home in Mysore at the request of their relatives who were not able to financially provide for them.  [Read the rest of the details here >

The extended family did not maintain except for one maternal aunt and her husband who visited infrequently, and ceased to do so entirely for a year.  The boys were then put up for adoption in 2010, matched with an Italian couple, and sent to a foster home to prepare for life outside the orphanage. Enter the distraught periamma and periappa who on discovering this new development have sued to block the adoption in a Bangalore court.

“We are family,” argues Neelamma. “I named both the boys when they were born. It is just circumstances. We are basically scavengers and we don’t want the boys to grow up to be the same. But we definitely don’t want them to be given up for adoption because we know that over a period of time, we will cease to exist for them. The new family will become their family. That is not okay.”

At first blush, their arguments are moving, even persuasive. The reasons for their prolonged absences from the children’s lives – financial need, illness – are convincing. Are they to be penalised for their poverty? Is it so wrong for them to want to keep their nephews close even if they cannot afford to raise them? And doesn’t this prove once again that the happiness of the wealthy is built on the backs of the poor?

Likely yes, except for one little problem: The boys lives cannot be ruled by the emotional needs of their relatives. Nor can they be ruled by their aunt’s determination that a good-enough life in an orphanage is preferable to a far better life in Italy. More importantly, the children want to be adopted – as do most abandoned children yearning for parents and a real home. But even this is not good enough for Neelama who tells Open, “But they are just children… I understand that they have been cared for by someone else, but I am still their periamma (aunt) and I want them to call me that. We want them to come home for festivals and spend time with us. Family ties cannot be broken so easily.”

But they can and should be when it is in the best interests of a child. Even parents lose rights to their own children when they abuse or exploit them.

There is a sound argument to be made for favouring in-country over international adoptions – hence the need to strengthen the new 70-30 rule . But to argue that children should be kept in orphanages merely to satisfy the whims of their relatives is a travesty. Blood is a bond not a brand of ownership.

You can read the Open article, “Between Periamma and a home in Italy” in its entirety here .