” I used to collect Omar’s toys and the Ramadan lantern that I bought, and I would imagine him sitting and playing with it. I would break my fast alone, tears falling down my face, imagining that he was next to me” I started thinking of kafala when I was young, and when I grew up a little, I volunteered in a nursing home, and this experience made me know more about what’s happening in orphanages, how children think of their lives and circumstances. When I grew older, got married, and separated childless, the loneliness increased. That’s until I saw a post for a kafala mother whose circumstances were completely similar to mine, until she sponsored a child just like my own. Within two days, I submitted all my papers, and in the same month I submitted it, my son was born. The journey was difficult and took a long time, but despite everything, it worked, thanks to God. My file was rejected more than once on the pretext that I chose in my application to have a child and I am the mother of a single child, and some people found it inappropriate, but I insisted on my choice to the point that when my file was approved, it got approved for a girl. I went and submitted a request to the ministry to change the sex of the child from a girl toa boy, and it was approved for me, thanks to God. I saw my son in another governorate, and we set a date for him to come home to me, but I was tired of Corona. The date was postponed several times because of my illness & then Ramadan till the Eid. I finally got Omar on my birthday, but when I woke up, I felt severe pain in my stomach, and it was a long way to travel, and the pain increased that we had to postpone again for the third time. I finally received Omar and my friend took him off because I was still very tired. As soon as we arrived safely, I was very thankful, and my friend supported me and lifted me up so I could rest on the bed; it was like I gave birth to him and returned home with the same exact pain and feeling. It was a long day, but the house was filled with joy and the sound of a baby crying. Finally, I became a mother, thank God. “I knew it was difficult to find someone to have kafala of him because he is 4 years old and most people choose infants.” I am Laila Fathi, I work as a pharmacist. I was married and left behind two daughters, and the eldest was in medical school, but unfortunately my marriage was ended. God compensated me with my current husband, he understood me and encouraged me, and I asked him to help me ensure that I achieve my dream. The first time I heard about kafala was when I saw the story of Rasha Makki and her son Mustafa. I communicated with her and she answered my questions and encouraged me to take this step. I couldn’t believe it when I told her that I have my son Omar. I chose to have Omar despite the difficulty of the situation. From the first sight, my heart was attached to him and I knew that he my son, Omar, is one of the missing children and spent a year and a half on the street. This means that he was abandoned either because of an inheritance or was kidnapped and thrown away. This reminded me of the hard circumstances that I had been through in my life, and I felt that he was like me. I knew Omar long time ago. I used to go and see children at the orphanage. I would check on them, get them gifts, and play with them. The first time I saw him, I felt that he was radiant with light, and he resembles me and my children. He had a loud laugh that stole my heart. Many people used to say, “No, he can’t be an orphan. His mother could come back at any time and demand him,” but my thoughts that he is alone and he needs our help and God will reward us for our goodness. On one side, there were those who accepted the idea and encouraged me, such as my sister and my uncle, who embraced me and many of my colleagues at work who supported me in my decision. On the other side, there were those who rejected it and were against it and said that it was enough to visit him at the orphanage, but I was determined to get him to my home because I saw that he needed a home, safety, good education, and people to take care of him. His life also changed. He entered kindergarten and now he loves swimming. I cannot forget his joy and the sparkle in his eye when he saw the sea of Alexandria. The big streets are a strange thing to him, and he is not used to them yet. He doesn't tell me about his difficult life at the orphanage. He doesn't want to go back there again, and he is happy with his new family. Omar is God's compensation for me. He compensated me for everything that happened in my life. May God not take him away from me.

“She was the first child I saw, and I knew from the first time I laid my eyes on her that she was my daughter. She enlightened our lives and filled them with joy, love, and true happiness.” I am Basma, 37 years old, English teacher, married since 2009. I didn't think for a moment that I wouldn't have children, but after the marriage, and after spending more than 10 years on doctors and operations that drained almost all of our psychological and physical energy, I decided that enough was enough. Although our son Ibrahim was taken care of by my husband and I for a long time in one of the orphanages, I have never thought about kafala. Until one of my neighbors approached me about her desire for kafala, even though she had children. She introduced me to the kafala pages, and here I entered this beautiful world of kafala and felt that it was a message from God to me. I started reading stories and communicating with some of the families until we were finally able to make the decision. It was a hard decision. We went though it despite how those around us tried to intimidate us. Sponsorship is an energy of light and life for anyone, a light in the midst of darkness, a life you give to a child and a life that he gives to you. A beautiful child who enlightened our lives and our hearts after years of patience. There was no life before Habiba at all. My daughter deserves all the good things in the world. My family and I will provide her with the best life we can. Ghalia now has her own family forever. You have enlightened our lives, Ghalia.

I can’t remember how old I was when I knew about it, but it was roughly between the first and third years of primary school. My mother told me that we are not your real mother and father. Your father's name is such-and-such, and your mother’s name is such-and-such, and they died in an accident. Since that moment, my heart was racing and felt like I am drowned in a sea of thoughts. I kept asking myself the real question, which was: If they died in an accident, how did I stay alive? I was shocked to my very core. The shock was brutal and difficult. I don’t remember how many days I cried before sleep because it must have been years and I am not exaggerating if I said this because I could not imagine that I could lose my mother and my father who I am with now. The issue has affected me psychologically, physically and socially, and I feel that at this time I have become silent and do not talk much, and I have not been able to form relationships with those around me. I also stopped eating and threw away food. I barely ate and I wasn't even hungry. These are things I noticed when I grew up a little, but when I was young, I didn't understand why or I wasn't even interested in understanding why. All I could think about was, "We get punished when we do something wrong. Surely I'm a bad person, so this happened to me." And sometimes I feel that I seriously don't deserve anything. I don't deserve what they do to me. I don't deserve their love because as I said, I'm a monster. I wasn’t much popular because of my appearance, my weight, and my way of doing things. There are many things that made me unable to determine whether my childhood was good or not. My problem is that they never helped me with this matter. I don’t know if they thought that this was normal or that I would forget or what the truth was. I don’t know. I wanted them to tell me the whole truth and I would have accepted it as I accepted what they said before because I certainly had no other choice, but at least I needed someone to tell me the truth. This may be difficult, but it is not my fault, and I am not as bad as I thought, and there are many people like me. What I denounced the most is that every time I come to ask what exactly happened, they yelled at me for asking. For them, my questions mean for that they are not enough. I just want to know, and this is my right to know. I live in the hope that I will meet them when I die, and I will meet my mother in heaven, and I keep imagining what we would look like when we meet, and that thought and dream comfort me because at the moment when this happens, I will not be afraid again. I will not be sad again. I will not lose anyone else. If I decided to tell them that now, they will be upset. I just want them to understand that just as any father and mother love their children with the same love as each other, I can also love two families with the same amount of love, and that they both represent many things to me, because in the end, this is what made me the person I am now. If I go for kafala of a real child, I would feel that I am the happiest person in the world, because I am sure that I would give him all the love that I have. I am sure that I will read books or learn what is the right way for him to be raised well so that he can become a good person. He won’t feel inferior in any way, and of course he has complete freedom to miss his biological family, and I will respect that very much, and I will be happy to answer all his questions and discuss them and make him understand that his being like this does not mean anything other than that he is a special person to me, and that my love for him is unconditional. I love him because he is the person he is, regardless of anything else. This will surely make him love himself, and this will give him confidence not only in himself but in those around him as well. I know that the whole matter will be a traumatic experience at first but I will take him to a psychological counselor if I felt that he has dark thoughts. The most important thing for me is that he is able to share all his feelings about anything freely and without fear or such. Kafala in general is a beautiful thing, but it also has negative effects, and any child, no matter how big he is, deserves to know his truth, love it, accept it, and feel love from those around him. Also, the name of the author of the story was changed based on her desire.