Mother of 30

Mama Jamale is a surrogate mother to more than 30 children. She has helped two generations of SOS Village children and looks forward to supporting many more.

Translated from its original Arabic.

How many children have you raised to date?

30 [laughs]

Wow, do you remember every one of them?

Are you kidding? Of course! They’re still in my life and I still follow theirs. Some are married, one in particular got married in the SOS Village. One got married in my parents’ house.

What about your current children?

Now I have seven children. The eldest is 16 and the youngest is seven; two boys and five girls. This is just your average family, I often forget that we’re part of an organization. There’s a large group of people behind the upbringing, it’s not just me. In my house it’s my job but we let the experts do their jobs.

What’s the youngest child you’ve ever had?

I had a 5-day old girl. She’s 18 now and no longer lives with us but is in the studio with the other teens. She still sleeps over sometimes on the weekends and we’re in touch all the time. She’s my daughter you know. My seven year-old was brought in when she was three months old, my 14 year-old came in when she was ten months old and my eldest was a year and a half old when she was brought in.

Why are they brought in at such a young age?

Social issues. Typically the mother is not there or not available. Most of these kids have families outside and we interfere on the behalf of the children only if the need arises. The families sometimes see their kids once a month and we try to keep some level of communication between them all.

Are you getting more children in these days? And does this reflect a social problem?

Once upon a time families were tightly knit units. It’s not like that anymore. Women marry young, men leave their wives, parents have children before they’re ready. The family unit is breaking apart. Sometimes there’s just no money, no home or no job. You never know what’ll happen, having a child is not an easy decision.

Do any of the kids ever reunite with their families?

Some, but it’s a tricky business. We study each case independently, and when we think that the chances of a child returning to his family are good, we have a halfway system for that. But many children are here to stay, and once a child’s been here for a while you can’t thrust him back into another family. You can’t just reprogram him. We try to predict these things.

What brought you here?

Wow, well I’ve been here since ’82. I love kids and I knew that I could never bring any into this world myself, with the country the way it is. People were dying and disappearing and I knew about the SOS in Bhersaf. I had read an article about them, loved the idea and wanted to try it out. I joined up for my two month trial and before I knew it a few decades had passed.

What’s your favorite place in the country?

Here in the south. I love the SOS village but the area here is beautiful. I love living here.

I don’t have a lot of faith in charity organizations, no doubt a reflection of my overall lack of faith in decision makers, but I know first-hand that the children in SOS receive excellent treatment and education. I know this because they were happy, confident and open to conversation. If you want to help the Lebanese SOS Village you can make a donation on their website here. And while you’re at it, if you’re lucky to have any of your parents alive, give them a call and say hi.
Written for Time Out Beirut

Article by Karl

I'm Karl, and I'm an acquired taste. I've been an editor for 4 years, a writer for 5 more, and a geek ever since I wrote Pong on my first Atari. I'm married to the perfect woman and we live in the desert.
Karl tagged this post with: , , Read 88 articles by

Facebook comments:

2 Comments

  1. Agénor says:

    Outstanding! Both the style and content. You asked questions and didn’t comment at the start of any like you usually do. Is this how you mark respect, by not allowing yourself to get to close? Anyhow, I got captivated and my interest for the subject discussed developped.

  2. Karl says:

    No fun in just asking questions, is there? It was different with Jamale though, you feel like you’re talking to your mother when you’re with her; she has a really gentle but firm presence.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

Notify me of replies via e-mail. You can also subscribe without commenting.

Random posts

  • Bless the rains: The 30-year-old Lebanese-Canadian singer, producer and songwriter Karl Wolf has had a couple of successful visits to Beirut, and promises more.
  • Brush aside: Tony el Mendelek is a hairdresser, one of the best hairdressers in the country. But ask him if his work can change society and he'll laugh in your face. Which is rather refreshing.
  • The gypsy emperor: Michel Elefteriades – guerilla fighter, artist, musician –doesn't even consider himself Lebanese, rather the Emperor of Nowhereistan, a state with no land and where everyone is welcome. Provided they pass the test. Where do we sign up?
  • Venus attacks: He stops and sniffs his drink. Their eyes lock for half a minute – but men are ill-equipped for these games.
  • Love me Dutch: ‘Well, if all else fails, we can always get married.’
  • Ex and bacon: All the crying has made that part a bit fuzzy, what is crystal clear though is picking up the 5 kilogram, metal-cast xylophone I was playing with and smashing it on his skull. Turns out he didn't like surprises either.
  • Damn the stage: Rabih Mroue believes that Lebanese theater is a thankless, sadistic mistress; and success takes time and plenty of passion. Not to mention an aversion to money.
  • Love is blind: Who loves you baby? Friends? Family? Professional matchmakers? We set two guinea pigs, Karl Baz and Nayla Aramouni, on three blind dates apiece to figure it out.
  • Run: Founder of the Beirut Marathon, May el Khalil is an advocate of the simple life and of sporting spirit. We'd be lucky to have half her spirit
  • Whither thou goest: They stared at each other for a long time, him through the mask and her through a wispy cloud of existential angst. Whatever magic they shared was absolutely lost on me.
  • Runway comfort: Rabih Kayrouz lets Beirut speak through his designs. He believes that good clothes, like good homes, should be as comfortable to live in as they are beautiful to look at.

Recent comments

  • Hani Bathish on Burned breakfast: Great article, there are a few ‘alleged chefs’ and restaurateurs I...
  • GASS on We’re married!: you’re so cute guys !
  • nicolien on Love me Dutch: Dutch people definitely rock… and we also know how to pick us some nice Lebanese...
  • yasmine on Google hates Arabs, and housekeepers?: This is the most entertaining thing yet – I can’t stop...
  • Abbie on Monkey seeds revolution: Sometimes it’s simply hard to understand how “stupid” ppl can be....
  • Mack trucks on Drob frem: It is great that from a war toned country a super car designer is evolved. There is no...
  • Hani Bathish on Monkey seeds revolution: Oh man, I can’t tell you how many times I have slammed into human...
  • Jad Aoun on Monkey seeds revolution: I’m still here juggling a thousand and one things. Just shared your post...
  • Jad Aoun on Monkey seeds revolution: Absolutely hilarious! Not only did you eventually get the green light to run the...
  • tasteofbeirut on Bearded bells: I have been enjoying your pieces.
  • Sonia on We’re married!: I am amazed to see all these came true. You are a beautiful couple and very nice...
  • Georgia on We’re married!: And here was me thinking you’d fallen off the edge of the planet…....