My Life and Times

January 26, 2005For Tsunami Orphan, No Name but Many ParentsBy SOMINI SENGUPTA KALMUNAI, Sri Lanka, Jan. 25 - In the pediatric ward of the town hospital here, Sri Lanka's most celebrated tsunami orphan dozes, drools and, when he is in a foul mood, wails at the many visitors who crowd around his crib. His identity is unknown. His age, according to hospital staff, is somewhere between 4 and 5 months. He is simply and famously known as Baby No. 81, the 81st admission to the ward this year.Baby No. 81's awful burden is not in being unwanted, but in being wanted too much. So far, nine couples have claimed him as their own son. Some among them have threatened suicide if the baby is not delivered into their arms. Countless other parents who lost their babies to the tsunami have also rushed in to see if Baby No. 81 is theirs. The national newspapers have carried almost daily narratives about his fate. The hospital has been so mobbed that for a while, the staff hid the baby in the operating theater every night for his own protection. In the storied obscurity of Baby No. 81 lies a hint of the raw and peculiar distress of Sri Lanka's bereaved parents. Of the 30,000 dead in Sri Lanka, Unicef estimates that 4 of 10 were children, a great many of them babies. Could it possibly be that nine couples honestly believe Baby No. 81 to be their flesh and blood? Could it be that childless parents are looking for a boon amid the disaster? Could it be that a photogenic baby boy has inspired a craving that a girl would not have? All these theories circulate on the streets of Kalmunai. Dr. K. Muhunthan, the hospital gynecologist who has taken on Baby No. 81's case, finds himself puzzled. The couples he has met seem so utterly traumatized that it is hard to know what they think. "Most of them believe this is their baby," Dr. Muhunthan said. "Maybe all children they look at, they think it's their baby. I'm not angry at them really."In the end, only a DNA test will offer proof of biological claim. Judge M. P. Moahaidein, the Kalmunai magistrate handling the claim filed by one of the nine would-be parents, intends to order a test when the case next comes before him on Feb. 2. "All the people of this community are affected, physically and psychologically," the judge said, offering an explanation on Tuesday as he handed out death certificates in his packed small-town courtroom. "They don't know what they are doing. In the meantime, the court has to do the right thing." For all the worldwide attention on tsunami orphans, they are in fact rare. Only a handful of stranded babies in Sri Lanka did not have relatives to care for them. According to Unicef, of the 981 children who were left with no parents, 945 have been taken in by extended family. Anxious about trafficking, Sri Lanka has instituted a temporary ban on the adoption of tsunami orphans.Baby No. 81's journey began on Dec. 26, when, amid the rush of dead and injured streaming into the hospital, someone brought in a baby. He had been found wailing amid the wreckage. In the pandemonium of that afternoon, no one recorded who brought in the child - some on the staff think it was an elderly man - nor exactly where he was found. The baby seemed to be in good health. There were a few bruises on his head. Some of the nurses started calling him Little Brother, in Tamil.Within days, word spread of the baby found in the wreckage. Hysterical, hopeful mothers and fathers streamed in. A few came and saw and walked away, heads hung in dismay. Nine couples came and saw and were convinced the boy was theirs. Jeyaraja Junitha, 25, and her husband, M. Jeyaraja, 30, were among them. "He has a birthmark here," Mrs. Junitha said, and touched the back of her head. "I know the shape of his ear," she went on. "I can recognize my son." She has threatened to kill herself if she doesn't get custody of Baby No. 81 - to her, Jeyaraja Abhilas, her first born. She points out that she and her husband are the only ones among the nine couples who have bothered to file for custody in a court of law. Her son, she explained, was right next to her in her sister's arms when the waves hit her house, just steps from the sea. Mrs. Junitha was found in the wreckage later that day. Her sister was found safe, tangled up in a tree. The baby was not. Relatives counseled her to accept his death. She and her husband refused. Three days later, they felt vindicated when a family friend came to say the baby was in the hospital. Since then, armed with a court order, the couple visits Baby No. 81 twice a week. Whatever tests the court orders, they say, they will gladly submit. "If they want to cut us into two pieces and test us, they can," Mr. Jeyaraja said. At the hospital, Dr. Muhunthan has advised them to consent to a DNA test. But there is something else that he cannot bring himself to suggest to any of the families who claim the baby: to look at the pictures of the dead. In the days immediately after the tsunami, he photographed hundreds of bodies that were brought into the hospital and copied them onto a compact disc for the police. Among the bodies were many, many babies. Some were about the same age as Baby No. 81