“Will we finally move now?” The smile on Rania’s face was unmistakable. A combination of elation, joy, and anticipation was reflected in her expression as she entered the room and, with great skill, maneuvered her wheelchair into place to get ready for the day’s activities. Rania has been part of the project for a few years, and it has been exciting to see how she has developed—not only in physical and cognitive abilities, but above all, in her awareness of who she is, her value as a human being, and a self-confidence that is no longer hindered by the negative view of disabilities that still lingers in the village society where we work. She is one of the roughly 30 children who come each week to the simple activity center we started with our local partners in the middle of one of the villages.
Rania’s question was prompted by overhearing our local staff discussing the best time to move out of the rented building we’ve been using since the beginning. From the start, the vision has been to build a permanent space that would support long-term work. Fortunately, a piece of inherited land was made available early on to begin construction. However, raising enough local funds to build proved to be a significant challenge.
Then, about 18 months ago, something unexpected happened: a local cement factory offered to donate several tons of cement; a brick manufacturer contributed a few thousand bricks; and an excavator owner volunteered to dig and prepare the land. Now, the building is finally ready enough to move into, even though the surrounding area—where the playground and vegetable garden will be—is still under development. Nevertheless, everyone involved agrees: we can’t wait any longer. Yallah! Let’s move!
Rania’s best friend, Khawla, joins the cheerful group and tries to high-five Rania with her right hand while swinging her wheelchair around with her left. It was a bit too much at once, and their hands completely missed each other—prompting giggles from both of them that revealed a deep joy and a friendship not taken for granted. From their own experiences before joining us, both Khawla and Rania know what it feels like to be alone, overlooked, devalued, and isolated. That isolation is one of the most important issues we have worked to change, together with our local partners. Operation Mercy’s commitment to long-term, ongoing work has yielded results—step by step. Meaningful change, rooted in local ownership, rarely happens quickly.
As I left the center to return to town and handle some paperwork with the local authorities, I happened to overhear a bit of Rania and Khawla’s conversation. These bubbly 10-year-old girls were busy planning all the fun activities they would do at the new location—including the mischief they would get up to!
“Will we finally move now?” The smile on Rania’s face was unmistakable. A combination of elation, joy, and anticipation was reflected in her expression as she entered the room and,
Adnan loves school. His mother smiles with pride and says to the Operation Mercy team, “Every day he wants to go to school.” Naturally gifted with a friendly and bold personality,
So these women continue on, persevering on behalf of the children and their community, sharing a love and passion that grows warmer with time and over many more cups of hot tea.
The view of the horizon from the CBR window is changing. As new life sprouts up and lurches forward around the CBR Center and throughout the villages,
“Fahid, it is your turn to sing!” Our volunteers encourage and then, with a little bit of prompting, Fahid begins to sing for us.
“I’ve learnt from you that each child is created by God and valuable, and I want to do my best to love and raise her like you would” she said