“The day I saw her, I and her father were so confused. We did not feel anything. We were confused and did not know what feeling we were supposed to feel, but after we walked from there, we felt that we missed her greatly and our hearts got attached to her.” I am Marwa Hafez, and I went for kafala after 21 years of marriage without children. I presented it to my husband and he initially refused, but when he learned about the issue of breastfeeding and that the presence of a girl would no longer be forbidden or haram, he agreed that we would go for kafala. We made this decision in June 2021, and we began the journey of preparing the papers and submitted them on the 4th of July, 2021. The day of submitting the papers coincided with the day of Misk’s birth, and the procedures and approvals took about nine months. I swear it was like a pregnancy period. I was suffering during these nine months because I saw my daughter when she was 3 months old. Security check took a long time. I wanted to have her right away because she was sick in the hospital. I used to travel to Minya every 15 days for nine months until I received her on the 17th of March. It was only 4 days before Mother’s Day. It was as if God was comforting my heart and her father’s with her beautiful presence. It was as if my life started again. On that day, Misk came to our place, and we were preparing a party to welcome her. My sisters and my family were all happy. A week after we received her, we held a big party for her in a large hall. We invited all our beloved friends, friends of our friends, relatives and neighbors. All of them were happy and it was a day that we still talk about to this day. Praise be to God, it has been a year since Misk got in my life, and this is the year in which I was born. Every Mother's Day, I hold you in my arms, and every day I hold you in my arms is a Mother’s Day for me. May God not deprive me of her or her presence in our lives, me and her father’s.

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.

I was afraid to go to any baby shower and bless any child born in the family, for the fear of people’s looks at me or their fear of envy, because I am sterile and have been married for 10 years without children. I was dreaming of having a child to fill my life with joy and warmth. One time, I saw a woman sitting with her young son, feeding and playing with him. I was distracted by them and imagined that one day I might have this same feeling. I made many proposals to my husband that he would get married and leave and have children, but he always refused. One day, my husband’s relative went for a kafala of a beautiful daughter, God bless her. The first time I saw her, my heart ached, and the tears fell down my face. Since then, I stopped eating, and I spent an entire week, thinking of kafala, until one day I submitted an application without having any expectations. Unexpectedly in the same week, the Ministry of Social Solidarity called me and asked me to prepare my papers. I was extremely thrilled, but unfortunately my husband refused the idea. I kept nagging about it until he agreed and told me to ask for the family’s opinion. I presented the idea to my mother-in-law, but she also refused and told me that it was a huge responsibility. I convinced her and she agreed. I believe that this is my destiny and God’s will. Thanks to God, the process was very easy and I received my son, Mustafa when he was 10 months old, and now, God bless him, he is 3 years old, and all those who refused were the people who were most attached and loved him very much.