Lihithan’s case is further complicated by the fact that his father is
also slightly mentally disabled, so his Mum with two daughters to take care of as
well, has had a tough life supporting her family. But things began to change
for Lihithan and his family when a community engagement officer who knew the
family came to talk to them about coming out from the shadows of shame and
guilt and meeting with the local hospital psychologist and thereby accessing
the psychosocial program that is running in their region.
Dad was the first to find himself in a men’s support group where he
discovered that he is not alone; he found a group of men who like him are
suffering some form of mental distress, but he also discovered that he doesn't
need to hide away – and today when I visited the home his wife apologised for
his absence because he had gone to the market, on his bike, by himself – her
face was lit with toothless grin as she apologised – a smile that spoke simultaneously
of pride and relief.
The sun was intense and the air was painfully dry as I stood under the
only shelter on the families small property, it was the cow shed which had been
swept clean and the cow, which they had received from our project, had been
relocated for my visit. Standing just
behind Mum, never more than a few inches away from her, was Lihithan, now 27
years old. We had been talking for a while when I asked what difference having
received the cow had made to her and the family. She pointed to Lihithan and with
that same toothless grin, told us that he was the difference.
When the cow arrived Lihithan came out of the house, literally, for the
first time of his own accord. He had decided that the cow was his to care for
and since that day he has followed and cared for the cow. After 26 years of
hiding in the house, he is free. But, it was to get even better (or Mum says,
maybe worse) when Lihithan asked for a push bike: after all he needed to collect
feed for his cow, he needed to be able to access the market and the government
vet service.
This is exciting, isn't it? But then Mum asked if her son could tell me
something. Without lifting his eyes from the ground, almost in a whisper he
tells me (as if I should know, after all it should be obvious) that he needs a
bike because he has to collect nice grass for “my cow”. He stops, a small shy
smile crosses his face and a soft giggle escapes – his mother gives him a smile
and an encouraging nudge and coaxes him on – the rest of the story erupts, “because
I am going to have a calf – and it’s mine”! The vet had only days ago confirmed
the pregnancy and he and mum had decided to keep it a secret until the ‘man
from Australia came’ so that they could announce it to the world.
Building (and rebuilding) self-esteem in a broken, invisible life is an
amazing outcome. Lihithan’s is not the only story of success here – but it is
symbolic of our goal of re-imagining life in all its fullness for some of the
most vulnerable people in the Kilinochchi district. In an environment of
dormant fear, Lihithan is a symbol of innocent hope, happiness and
self-sufficiency for me – and all because of a cow.
