We’re telling this story on behalf of the real heroes. I’ve always wanted to make a positive impact on the world. To provide goodness, peace, and healing to a world that’s often beset by loss, hardship, and a slew of other challenges is that make life difficult for so many, adoption felt like a no brainer when it came to the decision. This seemed like a good way to make a difference, if only for one child. My husband, Adam, and I would welcome a child in need into our house and hearts.
What I didn’t realize when I started this process was that adoption was about so much more than these things. I didn’t expect it to be all rainbows and Sunshine. But I also didn’t anticipate the amount of heartbreak and sorrow that adoption can bring not only to adoptive parents, but also to adopted children like the one we were about to meet and welcome into our lives.

At each stage of the process, Adam and I conducted extensive study in the hopes of securing a legal and ethical adoption. We had had four biological children, so this wasn’t about having another child or simply expanding our family.
Adopting was for us, about sharing what we had, our family love, and home with a child who didn’t have these things. There was no simple portion of this process, including the decision to adopt overseas. We knew there were children in the United States, as well as children all across the world who needed what we had to offer.
We gradually came to the conclusion, based on what we now view as misinformation, that many of the poorest countries had the greatest need. I recall reading that Uganda has about 3 million orphans, and with that statistic in mind and a little more study, we began the process of adopting from Uganda in October of 2013.
We filled out a mountain of paperwork, took dozens of fingerprints, and spent tens of thousands of dollars. Took me a little more than a year to complete all the procedures, but I was determined to get to the most important aspect of the process addressing the needs of a kid. We eventually arrived at that spot. Namata, a lovely, strong, and brave six year old girl, joined our family in 2015. When it comes to adoption, there’s no one size fits all approach.
But I did my homework as well as any adoptive parent could, and nothing could have prepared me for what happened next. It took us about a year and a half to understand that the things our child was telling us didn’t match the stories presented in the papers provided to us by our adoption agency, European Adoption Consultants Incorporated.
The US State Department prevented the organization from placing children and families for three years in December. Evidence of a pattern of egregious deliberate or grossly negligent failure to comply with the requirements, as well as aggravating circumstances suggest that continued accreditation of EAC would not be in the best interest of the children and families concerned, the State Department said. At first I wondered if Namada’s contradictory information was a result of her attempts to cope with the pain of being surrendered and abused.
But I soon realized she was telling me something entirely different and far more crucial. Throughout that year and a half, I had to fight the urge to interpret what she was saying through my own lens, which is all too often distorted by one’s own privilege and experiences. I recognized what she was trying so hard to get me to comprehend when I started listening with this openness.
We had tried for years to adopt a child who was not an orphan at all, and practically everything written in her documents and provided to us about her background was inaccurate. More than that, we finally discovered that she had a very loving family from whom she’d been unjustly abducted.
In order to offer an orphan to meet our adoption application. We believe and are persuaded, devastated is an understatement when it comes to how we felt when we understood what had happened to bring Namana into our family, Namana’s mother was merely assured that Adam and I would look after her child when we provided her with an education, which in Uganda is a critical path to empowerment and opportunity.
So when she was offered the possibility to be sponsored by a rich American couple, she felt as if she and her kids have been given a gift. She never intentionally renounced her rights as Namada’s mother. But once we verbally agreed to adopt Namada officials on the grounds in Uganda fake documents and placed Mata in an orphanage, Mata’s mother was powerless to stop the wheels from rolling.
By the time she knew what was going on that she would never see her kid again. After months of digging into the circumstances of our case, I’ve learned that Mata’s mother’s experience isn’t unusual in international adoption. Mothers, dads, siblings, and grandparents in Uganda and around the world are desperate to reunite with their children who were illegally taken from them through international adoption. It has broken my heart to think that such a beautiful and innocent gesture can be contaminated by such evil. But like so many other lovely things in the world, corruption and greed are a fact of life that we can’t ignore.

Adoption on a global scale needs to be modified. Adoptive parents and governments involved in the process may no longer claim ignorance. I’ve encountered a lot of resistance along the way to reuniting the motto of their family a lot of entitlement and privilege. Why don’t you just keep her? I’ve been asked several times.
These are the words I used to describe something I bought at the supermarket. Namato is never my property. She’s a human being who deserves better than such narrow minded and self serving mindset. Someone once advised that I just keep quiet about what she had said to us.
I was advised that it’s my Christian responsibility to keep her and raise her in the appropriate religion at other times, even after all the evidence showed that Namana’s mother had never relinquished her kid, US government officials told me that I had the last say on whether or not to reconnect her.
Her mother, whose rights had been illegally taken away from her, didn’t appear to be a factor at all. This injustice is beyond words in its heinousness. In the following sentence, I must be clear. None of my privileges entitle me to the children of the poor voiceless and underprivileged my race, country of origin, wealth, though modest access to things, religion. None of these entitled me to the children of poor voiceless and impoverished people.
Instead, I believe that these advantages should be accompanied by a responsibility to do more to speak out against injustices. We can’t let other families be torn apart in order to expand our own. I’m confident that the majority of families considering international adoption have the greatest of intentions, but good intentions are no justification for ignorance.
After uncovering the modest true tale and conducting substantial research, I believe I have gained a better understanding of the realities of corruption in international adoption. Greed and saviorism have greatly perverted the complicated, debt beautiful act of opening one’s home and heart to a child in need.
My family’s adoption adventure has turned into a crusade for families, families ripped apart by ignorance and a lack of empathy for those who have no voice to speak out against the injustices they suffer. On a daily basis, I’m unable to turn away. I’ll keep fighting until I see a shift in the system. I can also claim that I’ve witnessed the restoration of a family’s beauty, which is unlike anything else. While Adam and Namada traveled together to her isolated Hamlet in Uganda, I stayed at home with the biological children.
We couldn’t afford to send both of us, and my husband was worried about my safety after I exposed the corruption. He was just as worried about Namada’s safety as she was, and he wanted to be by her side until she was safe in her mother’s arms. So here in America, I sadly said my goodbyes to her. Even though we were all overcome with sadness. That morning, Adam, the kids and I attempted to keep a smile on our faces because it was a wonderful day for Namana.
She was ecstatic to see her family again, and we tried not to spoil her happiness. Through video chats and images, I was able to see this part of the journey, and it was breathtaking, beautifully painful. Namana’s mother welcomed her child with pleasure and laughter in September of 2016, and the two haven’t spent a day apart since. Nemata has thrived since returning home, which I’m grateful for. Throughout this journey, I’ve also discovered what it means to sincerely help and love orphans, a phrase often used when discussing adoption.

That love is far greater than anything I could have imagined before. It all seems so simple now. Hundreds of adult adoptees voices that I’ve heard since I started this journey now ring loudly in my ears. The great majority of children in orphanages, as well as numerous children adopted worldwide, are not orphans in the traditional sense. According to Catholic Relief Services, the majority of people have a parent or parents.
Many people have siblings, grandparents, aunts, and uncles that are concerned about them. My Noble intentions had been misdirected all along. If I sincerely wanted to support or assist an orphan, I had to ensure that every attempt had been done to keep the child with her biological family. I may not have missed as many red flags if that had been my focus from the beginning. Too many of us consider overseas adoptions to be a means of saving children.
But what if we took a different approach? What if we determined to do everything that we could to ensure that those children could grow up in the families that God intended for them in the first place? I’m not referring to children who were forcibly removed from abusive or neglectful homes, but rather those whose loving relatives were convinced to abandon them families who believed the decision was out of their hands due to illness, poverty, a lack of educational opportunities, intimidation, pressure, or a misunderstanding of what the American Dream means for their child. So am I advocating against adoption? No.