The Children’s Amendment Bill: Needs and rights of the vulnerable trumped by political expediency

The Children’s Amendment Bill: Needs and rights of the vulnerable trumped by political expediency

After four years of debate and consultation around the Children’s Amendment Bill, it took only half an hour for the Social Development Portfolio Committee to decide on amendments. It was done without a clause-by-clause analysis, without reference to public contributions and with no input from opposition MPs who had walked out in protest.

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The Social Development Portfolio Committee’s agreement to the Children’s Amendment Bill clauses should have been a cause for celebration for those advocating for vulnerable children. 

A response to the North Gauteng High Court judgment ordering the Department of Social Development (DSD) to find a comprehensive legal solution to the country’s years-long foster care crisis, the amendments have been pending since 2011.

Eleven years and four court order extensions later, the DSD is only five months away from its latest deadline of November 2022.

But much of the process and content related to this bill has been flawed and dogged by controversy, and proceedings on 25 May 2022 reached a new low. 

On the cusp of Child Protection Week, observers watched in mute horror as the committee chose to reject 136 clauses in the admittedly bloated bill, and then unilaterally agreed to the wording of the remaining 12 clauses in the time it took for the parliamentary legal adviser to read them out.

Despite four years of public consultation, national and provincial hearings, and over 1,000 submissions from civil society, there was no reference to public comment, or the needs of the orphaned, abandoned and abused children who the comprehensive legal solution was designed to protect. 

There was no discussion about individual clauses, no proposed amendments or additions to wording, no questions about the new clause inserted by the parliamentary legal adviser and DSD on the morning of the meeting, and no debate, largely because the opposition had walked out in protest. 

How did it go so wrong?

So, how did the process go so wrong, and what are the implications for vulnerable children whose best interests seem to have been lost in the decision-making?

Although it’s been a decade in the making, civil society argues that the comprehensive legal solution to foster care is relatively simple to achieve. 

Orphaned and abandoned children in the care of family members need financial assistance without the largely unnecessary and unmanageable administrative burden of first placing them in foster care. The solution involves two key components:

  1. Amending the Social Assistance Act to include provisions for the minister to action a new grant tailored for orphans in the care of relatives, the Child Support Grant (CSG) Top-Up; and
  2. Amending key sections of the Children’s Act to specify which orphaned and abandoned children need care and protection, ensuring that the majority in the safe care of family members don’t need to be placed in the foster care system, and making it easier for relatives and unmarried fathers to legally care for them.

Although endorsed by Cabinet and experts in the department and civil society, the planned solution was initially implemented at glacial pace, necessitating multiple court extensions and forcing then-minister Bathabile Dlamini to admit, as part of the 2017 settlement order, that her failure to meet the court-imposed requirements was “unconstitutional, unlawful and invalid”.

The order of unconstitutionality was suspended along with the court order, on condition she prioritised achieving a comprehensive legal solution by the court-imposed deadline.

When Lindiwe Zulu took over as minister in 2019, she inherited the pending order of unconstitutionality against her as minister, a Social Assistance Amendment Bill that was gathering dust after being stalled by her predecessor, a Children’s Amendment Bill which had swollen to 148 clauses, and an ongoing crisis for hundreds of thousands of children made more vulnerable by the foster care system’s collapse.

But fortunately for the minister, the post-election Portfolio Committee for Social Development, under the guidance of then-chair Mondli Gungubele, took the problem seriously. 

It passed the Social Assistance Amendment Bill in 2020 enabling the CSG Top-Up. This allowed Zulu to announce in her 2022/2023 budget speech that Treasury had allocated “R687-million in 2023/24 and R871-million in 2024/25” to implement the new grant.

With a quantum of R720 per month, roll-out for the CSG Top-Up began on 1 June 2022.

The only remaining task to achieve the comprehensive legal solution is therefore amending the Children’s Act to define which orphaned and abandoned children need care and protection, and to make it easier for relatives to care for them.

Biggest obstacle

Ironically though, the minister’s own department has created the biggest obstacle to completing it. The DSD inexplicably used the bill to amend the whole Children’s Act, rather than only focusing on changes needed for the solution.

When questioned about the size of the bill and why DSD had ignored the advice of civil society and the state law adviser to concentrate exclusively on the comprehensive legal solution, the bill’s drafter argued that for the solution to be “comprehensive”, it needed to focus on ways to prevent children from ending up in the foster care system.

It’s a valid point. But the version of the bill gazetted for comment in October 2018 contained clauses related to everything from genital mutilation to privacy to early childhood development (ECD), which no amount of argument could link to the crisis in foster care.

Nor did the department seem sure about what the comprehensive legal solution comprised.

The result was an enormous and controversial bill that necessitated four years of post-gazetting public consultation. And even after the ECD clauses were jettisoned because the department had failed to consult with the SA Local Government Association, and, more importantly, because ECD was becoming part of the basic education department (which the DSD must have known was imminent), there was such extensive feedback from national and provincial hearings that the resulting matrix — containing public input and the DSD’s responses — was so large that the current committee chairperson, Nonkosi Mvana, was reluctant to travel with it.

The upshot is that on 1 April 2022, the committee found itself in a virtual meeting, being guided through the 148-clause bill by parliamentary law adviser Nathi Mjenxane, who confessed to being so busy with other committees that he was seemingly unfamiliar with the bill and the matrix.

While on Zoom, MPs were required to flip between the principal act, the bill and the matrix, which was neither indexed nor organised by clause. 

Significant errors

The complexity of the process resulted in significant errors, including Mjenxane missing 24 pages of public comment about the bill’s infamous privacy clause (clause 3, section 6(a) of the act) because, although the clause was at the beginning of the bill, public feedback was hidden on page 102 of the matrix.

As frustration built, the chairperson could have stopped the process and questioned if the committee would be able to get the bill approved, through the National Council of Provinces, passed, and regulations developed, by the November 2022 deadline. 

If she had, MPs would probably have agreed that it was impossible, and made a joint decision to focus only on the clauses related to the comprehensive legal solution.

But instead, the ANC contingent of the committee acted unilaterally.

After Mjenxane had read the first clause, ANC chief whip, Dikgang Stock, formally moved that the committee should only focus on the foster care clauses.

Stock then gave blanket endorsement for all the amendments proposed by the DSD. If accepted, it would have resulted in all clauses in the bill being approved with the DSD’s preferred wording — without any discussion by the committee.

His motion was supported by ANC colleague Anastasia Motaung, but it wasn’t put to the committee for approval or voting. Instead, the proposal, which effectively rejected 136 clauses in the bill, occurred without comment.

Bizarrely, the meeting then continued as if nothing had happened.

Mjenxane ploughed on through the bill, either oblivious to the motion or in the mistaken belief that all 148 clauses related to the crisis in foster care.

Proceedings were only suspended when the MPs gave up trying to navigate through the cumbersome matrix and called for it to be grouped per clause and for future meetings to be in-person.

MPs went into the Easter recess unaware that a decision had been “taken” to summarily dismiss 90% of the bill. The first that many of the MPs knew about it was when they received the new matrix and discovered that it had been pared down to 12 clauses.

Choosing to focus only on the clauses related to the comprehensive legal solution was wise and what government had been advised to do in 2011. But the way it was done was problematic.

Unilaterally curtailed

The decision to drastically curtail the bill was taken abnormally and unilaterally by two MPs, and only endorsed by the whole committee weeks later after a new matrix and bill had already been developed by the DSD drafter. 

Further, it appeared that there was political pressure on the committee to get the bill completed ahead of the DSD’s court deadline. 

In her 4 May address to the committee, the minister validated the decision before the committee had even approved it.

In addition, the ANC MPs apparently gave no thought to what would happen to the other 136 clauses excluded from the revised bill, or to the four years of public consultation around those clauses. It fell to the opposition to ensure that they weren’t lost.

Ultimately, the committee approved the “foster care bill” approach, with the proviso that the remaining clauses become a committee bill. But if it hadn’t, it risked the clauses needing to be reapproved by Cabinet and put before a new committee who hadn’t been present during the extensive public input, and who would be lacking institutional knowledge of the bill.

Moreover, it resulted in what the state law adviser Lisa Naidoo, who from the outset had cautioned about extending the bill from its intended focus, somewhat euphemistically referred to as an “irregular process”.

The irregularity was immediately evident. 

While all MPs eventually agreed that it was the right decision to only focus on the clauses related to the comprehensive legal solution, which of the 148 clauses comprised the solution remained unclear and contested. The DSD proposed 12 clauses, while the law advisers argued that only one clause was worth retaining.

Then, during lengthy debates on 18 May, opposition MPs requested the inclusion of the amended definition of an orphan, which had inexplicably been omitted despite orphans being the group most affected; exclusion of the revised definition of a caregiver which hadn’t been debated publicly but had significant consequences for orphans in the care of relatives; and the insertion of two clauses from the original bill that weren’t in the DSD’s version.

Missing clauses

The first missing clause was an amendment to section 21 aimed at strengthening unmarried fathers’ capacity to parent their children and thereby lessening the number of maternal orphans in need of alternative care. 

The second was a consequential amendment to section 24 which the drafters had missed, needed to give the Children’s Court jurisdiction over guardianship, making it easier for guardianship orders to be issued to relatives caring for orphans.

Both are essential for the legal solution because they make it easier for orphaned and abandoned children to be cared for by extended family and unmarried fathers.

It was section 21 — the rights of unmarried fathers — that proved strangely controversial with the parliamentary and DSD law advisers and the ANC MPs, who insisted that further consultation was necessary.

It fell to IFP member Liezl van der Merwe to point out that extensive consultation had already occurred, and that apart from some small amendments to wording which the DSD had approved, there hadn’t been any public objections to the clause in the tabled bill other than from one father’s rights group that wanted section 21 removed entirely from the Children’s Act, along with the distinction between married and unmarried fathers.

The DA’s Alexandra Abrahams asked the chairperson to put the inclusion of section 21 to the vote, but the proposal was categorically refused.

Sections 21 and 24

However, the committee finally agreed to include the amendments to sections 21 and 24 along with the revised definitions in the new bill, prompting Stock to remark that he was glad the committee had come to the decision “by consensus” and not a vote.

When the clause-by-clause process was again suspended, MPs expected to reconvene the following week to approve the wording of the 12 clauses included by the legal advisers, the new definition, and the amendments to sections 21 and 24 as agreed by the committee.

Instead, at the meeting on 25 May, MPs were confronted by a new version of the bill which hadn’t been distributed to them prior to the meeting, as procedurally required.

The definition of an orphan was included and that of a caregiver excluded, per their decision the week before. But amendments to sections 21 and 24 were inexplicably missing.

When opposition MPs protested, Stock and Mvana inexplicably denied that the committee had decided to include the amendments to sections 21 and 24. The DSD legal adviser stated that the process had broken down the previous week, so the legal team had reverted to the original clauses.

Cherry picking

Moreover, the legal team disclosed that they had already met and unilaterally updated the 12 remaining clauses “to reflect public comment”, unashamedly cherry picking which input they agreed with, and then including it into the wording of the bill. 

In so doing, they pre-empted the committee’s task of determining which amendments from the public and the DSD should be incorporated, excluding much of the public comment, and prioritising the version of the legal solution favoured by the DSD.

They had even inserted a previously unseen amendment to section 160 of the act under the guise of “public comment”, although there’s nothing in the matrix to justify it being a response to public input.

When Van der Merwe pointed out that the change to the definitions showed that the legal team had understood the committee’s decision to amend the bill, and questioned why the team had only implemented some of the agreed changes, opposition MPs called for a halt to proceedings while they consulted last week’s minutes for clarity (most had already seen the Parliamentary Monitoring Group (PMG) minutes which stated that there had been consensus to include amendments to sections 21 and 24).

The chairperson demurred that the committee secretary was off studying for exams and that the acting secretary wouldn’t be able to locate them. However, the chair instructed the acting secretary to find them after the meeting, because the committee would be “rescinding whatever we agreed in the first meeting”.

EFF MP Letitia Arries, who was attending virtually, then asked for a caucus, but was muted while proceedings continued.

Eventually, all opposition MPs walked out in protest.

Cameras were turned off in the meeting room, so virtual observers, including the PMG monitor, were unaware of their departure. 

They only knew that Abrahams had left because she responded to the chair’s question about why members weren’t excusing themselves, saying she couldn’t continue until the verbatim minutes of the last meeting were presented before the committee.

If the ANC committee members had orchestrated things, they could not have done it better. 

Someone contacted Motaung, the missing 11th committee member. She suddenly appeared on Zoom and, with the quorum secured, those remaining listened to Mjenxane read the legal team’s version of the bill.

Once he had finished, all ANC members agreed that they had debated the clauses enough, with the chair stating that they had begun debating the clauses when she was “two years old, and now she was six years old”.

No one remembered that only clause one, the definition section, had ever been debated in committee meetings. No one considered it noteworthy that the legal team had unilaterally changed the wording of the bill without a committee instruction. No one referred to the matrix to check if the public comments had been interrogated.

No one objected to the previously unseen amendment to section 160 or suggested that the committee reject the insertion because it hadn’t been for public consultation. Ironically, Stock even affirmed that “the proposed amendments… were not new amendments”.

Anxious about the quorum, Mjenxane contacted the committee secretary, Lindiwe Ntshabo (deemed uncontactable by the chair), to check on the number of committee members. He could be clearly heard by observers directing her that the minutes from the previous meeting must reflect that the process had broken down and no decisions had been taken.

In the absence of the opposition, the committee then rejected section 21 and the legal team’s version of the bill was approved.

Blanket approval

The committee’s blanket approval of the version of the bill presented by the legal team means that the minister will meet her court deadline. But what are the implications for vulnerable children, who weren’t mentioned once during the meeting?

According to Paula Proudlock from the Children’s Institute, the biggest problems with the revised bill are the last-minute amendment to section 160; the omission of changes to sections 21 and 24, and amendments to sections 150(1)(a) and 159.

Proudlock explains that if passed, the amendment to section 160 could force relatives caring for approximately 700,000 orphans to be assessed by a social worker before they can apply for the CSG Top-Up. 

Not only would this hinder the comprehensive legal solution to the foster care crisis, but because of the lack of social workers, it could also make the CSG Top-Up impossible to implement.

The omission of amendments to section 21 is also problematic and, oddly, those who chose to exclude it seemed to know little about it. 

They incorrectly argued that section 21 is about adoption (it’s about unmarried fathers), that the amendment is controversial (it was approved by Cabinet and widely accepted by children’s rights organisations), that it was proposed by Fathers for Justice (this group actually wanted it removed from the Act), and that it needed further consultation especially with the House of Traditional Leaders (there had been broad consultation and the DSD had agreed to the House of Traditional Leaders’ amendments).

Focusing on damages (which are already in section 21 of the Act), members missed the importance of providing legal recognition and certification for unmarried fathers living with maternal orphans, enabling them to protect and care for their children, and act as their legal guardian.

Guardianship cases

Equally concerning was the omission of the amendment to section 24. 

Like the amendment to section 45, it enables jurisdiction for the Children’s Court to hear guardianship cases. This crucial part of the comprehensive legal solution allows relatives caring for orphaned and abandoned children to obtain guardianship without having to incur high court fees.

Oddly, the new bill includes the change to section 45, but not to section 24. Without this important consequential amendment, the bill contradicts itself.

Despite opposition MPs raising this concern, section 24 wasn’t discussed because the chairperson confused it with clause 24, which is part of the bill.

At the heart of the legal solution is section 150(1)(a). According to Proudlock, civil society has long advocated for a change to s150(1)(a) to ensure that orphans in the care of relatives aren’t automatically considered in need of state care and protection and are rather assisted with an accessible grant and supportive services.

But, despite numerous submissions from child rights organisations, the wording of 150(1)(a) contradicts the department’s own Child Care and Protection Policy, and CSG Top-Up policy. However, neither policy was discussed by the committee.

‘Band-Aid’ approach

Proudlock also cautions against the “Band-Aid” approach to the comprehensive legal solution evident in changes to section 159. 

“This amendment will enable social workers to ask magistrates to extend foster care court orders that have already expired. This protects the social workers who cannot keep up with the extension backlog, but isn’t in children’s best interests. 

“It removes the accountability that ensures children’s alternative care placements are regularly reviewed by social workers and the courts.”

She’s particularly concerned that this amendment will result in children in child and youth care centres languishing in residential care for many years without their placement orders being regularly appraised or family reunification services provided.

Furthermore, the amendment doesn’t protect children in foster care from losing their Foster Care Grants for the time that their court order is expired. 

“While the grant can be paid retrospectively once the expired order is extended, many orphans will be without their grants for months or years while they await a social worker to process their extension,” she explains.

Events of 25 May show that the DSD, parliamentary law adviser and ANC MPs have lost sight of the goal of the bill. 

It isn’t to technically comply with a court order or prevent further embarrassment for the minister — it’s to provide secure and sustainable financial support for orphans, and legal status for their related caregivers, without having to use the over-burdened foster care system.

The needs and rights of vulnerable children were subsumed by political expediency in the committee’s rush to approve the CAB clauses.

And in contrast to the indecent haste of 25th May, formal approval of the A-list of the bill has taken a month, once again delaying the process.

If the decisions made without due consideration are not revisited when the A-list is evaluated on the 22nd June, it will be hard for the committee to argue that it has acted in children’s best interests.DM

First published in the Daily Maverick: 21.06.2022

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Child Abuse

Child and Youth Care Centres

Child Homicide

Child Protection Legislation & Child Rights

Covid and Children

Early Childhood Development

Foster Care

Health and Hunger

Missing and Trafficked Children

Undocumented Children



In this two-part article, the focus is on how we as adoptive parents, can best parent our adoptees.  Part 1 contained tips 1-4.  This article explores the last three.

5. Your child should not remember the first time they heard their adoption story

Years ago, I watched an episode of the sitcom “Friends” where Chandler inadvertently told a little boy that he was adopted.  They made it funny, but it was a particularly uncomfortable story line for me because I vividly remember my brother and I accidentally revealing to a friend that he was adopted when we were small children.  We had no idea that it was a secret, and to this day, I wonder why his parents told family and friends (we weren’t even close friends), before telling him. It was admittedly a different time, where all adoptions were same race, so easily hidden, and for some, there was an odd stigma and sometimes even shame associated with having an adopted child.  Those reasons should no longer be valid today.  But there are still children that go years without their parents telling them that they are adopted.  Nor does this only apply to same race adoptions.  I recently met a five-year-old at a local school who does not know he is adopted, despite his mother being Indian while he is black.  Part of him undoubtedly knows, he came to the school when anger issues forced him to leave his previous one, and children in the park tell him that he is lying when points out his mother to them (his adoption is being “outed” all the time).  The school is in the process of helping his mom to tell him his story, and while it is very late at five, it will hopefully help him deal with whatever part of his identity has been wounded by this secret.

It is easy to judge this mom.  However, she is doting, guilty of ignorance, not malice.  And, she isn’t alone.  I have even heard stories about children discovering that they were adopted when a parent died, sometimes when they were left out of the will.  The bottom line is that regardless of your reason, not telling your child reinforces the notion that adoption is something to be ashamed about (especially for the child).  It also forces a child to build their identity around a lie or half-truth.

So, please tell your child their adoption story from when they are tiny.  Tell them during cuddles, when they feel safe and nurtured, tell them when they ask questions about pregnant women, and skin colour. Tell them because you love them and because you want to affirm their place in your heart and your family, and above all, tell them before anyone else does.

If you haven’t already done so, and your child is little, start today.  But if your child is older, please seek expert help about how to broach the subject in a way that does not compound their sense of loss and rejection.

6. Birth parents matter

Love is not a competition. As a mom of two step-daughters and an adoptive child, I can’t stress this enough.  Your child will always have two families and her need to connect with her birth parents is natural and healthy.  It shouldn’t be seen as a threat. Interestingly, although adoptive parents often seem concerned that they will “lose” their children if the child meets their birth mother, anecdotal evidence seems to suggest the opposite.  The parents who do “lose” (relationship) with their children are more typically the ones that oppose their children’s efforts to find birth parents, or to explore their identity.  One of the most important pieces of feedback coming from adult adoptees is that they wished that they could have met their birth parents earlier.  The result is a drive towards opening adoptions that were previously closed (in other words, providing your child with access to their birth family before they reach the age of 18).  Although some social workers are not in favour of opening adoptions, children seem to show a remarkable ability to manage the ambiguity of having more than one set of parents, and to fold their love for multiple parents into their lives.  So, if you have details about your child’s birth mother (or family), it is worth exploring. However, please consider the following before you do so:

  • You don’t want your child to risk secondary rejection, so ensure that your child’s birth family are receptive to a relationship with him.
  • The relationship needs to be safe. Most South African adoptees are placed in adoptive families due to their birth parent’s circumstances, and not because of abuse or substance abuse (which is more common in foster care arrangements).  Nonetheless, if the birth family could potentially harm your child, it may be better to consult your social worker or keep the adoption closed.

Finally, if you are fortunate enough to have an open adoption or an agreement with your child’s birth mother to share updates (I say fortunate because it is a huge gift to your child to have an involved birth mother), please honour that agreement.  Where the relationship is through a social worker, be sure to follow up with them to find out if they have received anything from your child’s birth parent/s (especially at significant times, like your child’s birthday).

Unfortunately, since most of the adoptive children on the national register are abandoned, not consented, assisting your child to find out about their first family may be particularly difficult (if not impossible).  These strategies may be helpful if you are in this situation:

  • Put on your detective hat and find out everything you can about your child’s birth story: where they were abandoned, how, who found them, who named them. Meet everyone you can who participated in the story.  Sadly, it will not assist with a medical history or to help your child connect with their first identity, but it gives your child valuable clues.  For example, although abandoning mothers often travel to unfamiliar places to abandon, where a child was found may telegraph their cultural identity (especially if it was in a rural area, but even urban areas often cluster in communities based on ethnicity, such as Tswana or Pedi).  Also try to find the origin of your child’s name.  Although some names are used in several languages, social workers and public service employees usually try to name a child in language that is used in the area where he was found.
  • Regardless of how your child was placed for adoption, but particularly for abandoned children where there is no information about birth families, try to find wonderful things about your child and attribute them to their birth parents. The obvious example is the way that your child looks, but please try to go deeper.  For example, my daughter has incredible posture and long legs, along with amazing musicality, so even at six she dances beautifully.  I always think about her birth parents when she does ballet, and it is a significant association for her.  No matter how little (or how much) you know about your child’s birth parents, identifying characteristics like intelligence, humour, musical and sporting ability in your child and attributing them to their birth parents is hugely affirming for your child.

Conversely (and again, this should go without saying, but probably doesn’t), criticising your child’s birth parents causes your child shame and pain. Whether he has met them or not, he will always be linked to them. So, no matter how bad his birth parent’s choices were, and how much they have affected him, do you best to use affirming language when speaking about them.  Again, this does not need to be dishonest.  If you struggle to cope with your child’s foetal alcohol syndrome and the impact on her health, or feel angry that your child’s birth mother chose to abort her causing her to be born prematurely (with all of the physical and psychological problems this may bring), rather choose to vent to a therapist instead of inadvertently shaming your child, or making her choose between you and her birth mother.

7. Remember that adoption is about loss and joy, not always in equal measure

Adoption cannot take place without the participation, active or passive of all three parties in the adoption triad: birth parents, the adoptee and adoptive parents.  And for a long time, adoption has mostly been viewed from the perspective of adoptive parents, for whom adoption is characterised by delight and wonder (an entirely valid response to the amazing gift of a child).  But in recent times, there has been a welcome movement in adoption circles to also consider the devastating loss that predicates all adoptions, a loss for both the birth family and for the adoptee.  Understanding that loss doesn’t diminish our joy as adoptive parents (adopting our daughter is still the best thing that happened to our family), nor is our child’s pain a negation of adoption, or of us as her adoptive parents.  But it should bring nuance to way that we understand and talk about adoption.  Our adoption narrative must acknowledge pain and loss, and adoptees should never be required to be grateful for their adoption, or to forget their first family, nor should we allow others to tell them they are “lucky”.

It should also guide our celebrations and rituals.  It is very common for adoptees to be sorrowful on their birthday, a day when many feel most connected to their birth mother.   It is also common for adoptees to feel sad on their adoption day.  Some adoptive parents find this challenging, even a negation of the adoption that makes them so happy.  But it isn’t necessarily true, it is just that adoption emotion is multi-faceted for adoptees, and on days of “celebration”, they are often more aware of the missing member of the triad.  My suggestion is therefore that you take your cue from your child about how and if to celebrate.

Please also think carefully about how you speak about adoption rituals.  Some parents in South Africa still call their child’s adoption day, “Gotcha Day” despite a strong backlash from adult adoptees, offended at the acquisitive nature of the term.  If your child likes to celebrate their adoption day, allow them and other adoptees to guide terminology.  For example, you could call it “family day”, a day to celebrate the formation of your family, or name the day after your child.  We use the latter approach, and our daughter decides if she wants to celebrate or not.  At five she didn’t feel up to it, but a year later she embraced it and planned her celebration.

A final note: some adoptees feel deep abiding sadness at the loss of their first family, or rejection that does not diminish over time.  I have heard teachers and professionals (and even adoptive parents) saying that adoptees just need to “get over it”.  But this is a very unhelpful approach.  The level of trauma and rejection that some adoptees experience at birth and through the loss of their first family does not necessarily lessen over time.  It is noteworthy that a disproportionate number of adoptees exhibit psychological problems and suicidal tendencies because of early loss, attachment and identity issues.  That is not something to fear, but awareness is essential.  If in doubt, be sure to get professional help.

In conclusion, be a learner and to listen more than you speak A lot of the current voices in adoption are those of adult adoptees in the US.  While their context is very different to ours and therefore our experiences likely to be different (the US works on a supply and demand model where children are sourced for families, whereas South Africa, which is highly regulated, works on need, where families are found for children), we ignore them at our peril.  As adoptive parents, we should always choose to learn from the mistakes of others, so we don’t have to make them too.  My counsel is be a learner, listen more than you speak, don’t speak over those whose messages is different to yours, and be willing to change when you are wrong.   Accepting nuance won’t affect your love for your child or your belief in adoption, quite the contrary it can help make it even more life-affirming, and the joyous gift that we would all like it to be.

First published on Becoming a Mom: 10.11.2018

To cite please use the authors’ names, the year of publication, the title of the article, name of publication, date of publication



As adoptive parents, we should constantly be learning how to parent our adoptees better, which led me to documenting these seven top tips for adoptive parents, along with some related dos and don’ts.  But first a disclaimer.   I am a step-mother, a biological mother, an adoptive mom and even a grandmother.  It makes me a veteran parent, not an expert.  I am also only six years into being an adoptive mom.  I am however trying to learn all the time.  This article is the product of that learning (and the expertise and experience of adult adoptees, social workers, psychologists and other adoptive parents).  But the content is not exhaustive, I’m sure as my daughter grows to adulthood, I will be able to add many more relevant points.

  1. Your child should be the first person to hear their story

Stated differently, your child’s story is their own so don’t share it with others before your child is old enough to consent to the story being told.

In the adoption process, there are three separate stories, one for each member of the adoption triad (adoptee, birth parents and adoptive parents).  The only one of those stories that is ours to tell is our own.  It may sound simple, but it isn’t because people ask for details all the time. “How much do you know about him?” “Have you met her birth mother?”  “What ethnicity is he?”  Most of these are perfectly innocent and generally well-meaning questions but they all telegraph something about your child. For example, answering “no” to the birth mother question or “I don’t know” to the ethnicity question can cause people to deduce that you child was abandoned.

Interestingly, adoptive parents and social workers appear to have slightly different boundaries in this regard, usually based on how a child was placed for adoption. For example, while it is considered an “overshare” to say that your child was abandoned, saying that they were consented isn’t.  Other families are willing to share that their child was abandoned, but not how.  Our family’s work as adoption advocates and educators mean that we regularly talk about our family, so we have been forced to set our boundary very firmly.  Our choice is to share no information, including how our daughter became adoptable. But, regardless of where you have drawn the line previously, please be aware that sharing information that is personal to your child before they are able to decide if they want that information shared (and to whom), should be avoided.

It may be helpful to role play some responses to these questions before you adopt.  Answers could include: “That is part of insert child’s name’s story, so I am unable to share it”.  Or if you feel that you would like to answer the question in some way, you can even say “I know everything that my social worker knows about insert child’s name and his story.”

The only exception to the no sharing rule is when professionals (social workers, counsellors or therapists such as Play Therapists or Occupational Therapists) need the information to treat your child (for example, if your child was born prematurely as a result of a late term abortion or if your child’s birth mother drank or took drugs during the pregnancy, or if your child was oxygen deprived during the abandonment process).  In these instances, information needs to be shared on the basis of professional confidentiality.

Be particularly careful of the “support group exception”.  Many adoptive parents share too much about their child’s story in online support group settings to obtain help from other adoptive parents.  While it is understandable, it can easily overstep the line.  If in doubt, rather share it with a professional or, if you really need to share with other adoptive parents, asking the group admin to post your question anonymously is probably the lesser of two evils.

The flipside of guarding your child’s story from other people is ensuring that you tell your child their story, often, and in an age appropriate way.  When questioned about how to tell an adoption story, Nomzamo Botha, a South African adult adoptee said that when she asked her parents about her story, they would always talk to her in private, telling her whatever they knew in a way that she could understand.  When they were unsure about details, their response was, “let’s try and find out together.”

  1. Race, ethnicity and culture matter, especially if your child is transracially adopted

It has been a while since I have heard an adoptive parent say, “I can’t raise my child to be Zulu or Sesotho, so I will raise them to be like me, Afrikaans, or Greek (insert a relevant culture)”.  But, some parents still live as if this was true.  If you are in this camp, ask yourself these questions: what percentage of your child’s life will they spend in your home?  What identity will your child have when he or she is out in the world? Most parents wouldn’t want their child to walk around wearing a sign that says, “I can’t relate to you, I’m adopted”, or “I can’t speak your language, I’m adopted”.  But, that is often the outcome of our choices.

It is one of the biggest areas of pain for adult adoptees in South Africa, but in recent years, there has been far more effort amongst parents to address these issues.  The first step is learning to care for your child’s skin and hair, something that adoptive parents are increasingly embracing (and thank goodness, because in the past, badly cared for, knotty or matted hair, receding hairlines and flaky grey skin were ways that black people identified transracially adopted children).  But our efforts can’t end there, because our child’s identity is more than skin deep and struggling to fit in may cause anxiety and even depression in adopted children and adults.

So, how do you avoid raising a child who is likely to be labelled a “coconut” (for those who aren’t familiar with the term, a derogatory term used to describe people who are black on the outside but “white” on the inside)?  The answer is that you can’t on your own, it takes a village.  Racial mirrors are essential for your child and this doesn’t just mean having a black nanny or au pair, or your child spending time with other transracially adopted children.  Your child needs significant black role models and same race friends who can decode culture and behaviour and language and nuance for them.  You will also need to address your demographics.  Is your environment (your suburb, your child’s school, where your worship, your places of leisure) predominantly white or same race?  What is your child’s experience of living in those demographics?  Notably, many families take the path of least resistance and expect their children’s friends to instil culture.  But this can be problematic.  My daughter’s two best friends at school are black.  One is from an upper middle-class family.  Her mother is Zulu and her father Tswana, but she speaks English, at home and with her nanny, and the family are more likely to go on holiday to Disneyland then to stay with their extended families where cultural practices are more evident.  Her other friend is from a traditional family, but she hails from Zimbabwe so also struggles with cultural relevance in South Africa.   If you depend on friends to decode culture for your child, the version of growing up as a young black woman or man will vary depending on who your children befriends. This is why input from adults whose values and understanding of culture can be directive is so critical.

And, you need to prioritise language and cultural awareness for your child.  While it is true that South Africa is increasingly cosmopolitan and not all black people living here can speak a local language, not being able to speak a black language immediately isolates your child from other black people.  So, make an effort, as a family if possible.  This means exposing your child to their culturally relevant language if possible.  But at a minimum, your child should be able to speak one of the widely spoken languages, for example isiXhosa in the Western Cape or isiZulu in KwaZulu Natal or Gauteng.

You also need to watch your language.  Saying, “I don’t see race” is not helpful to your child and can be disingenuous or even unintentionally belittling.  One of the most bemusing questions we have been asked is: “do you still see her as black?” Or, rephrased as a statement: I’m sure that you don’t even see that she is black anymore”.  Our answer is “of course we see her race, and we honour it, the fact that our daughter is black is an integral and beautiful part of her identity and who God made her to be”. And no, children are not colour blind.  Seeing race is not the problem because we are not “all the same”.  Praising a child for not seeing race may inadvertently imply that race is a bad thing.  Stated bluntly, denying race can be as problematic as overemphasising it.  Instead, we need to recognise that the problem is not race itself, but the value people ascribe to it, either positive, as in valuing one race more than another, or negative, deeming one or some races to be “bad”.

It is still rife in our country which is why we need to acknowledge and talk to our children about racism.  To quote a fellow adoptive parent, Thandi Nkomo, “being ‘colour blind’ will lead to being blind to what your child’s colour means to that racist shop owner, to the racist neighbour. It will mean being blind to the differences between you and your child that make it blindingly obvious that your child did not come from your womb”. It means, “being blind to racial bullying, name calling, racist teachers giving your child bad marks for perfect essays…being blind to your child’s pain”.  Ultimately, it means, “ignoring the lived experiences of black people warning you about what your black children will face.”  Her caution is therefore against “ignoring systemic and institutionalised racism”, and not just because, as she goes on to explain, “a white surname wouldn’t save transracially adoptive children from the apartheid mindset still entrenched in people’s minds today”, but also because advocating for our transracially adopted children at the expense of the remainder of South Africa’s children is self-serving and ultimately, self-defeating.

Finally, please don’t use pet names for your child that are racially offensive to black people just because you would use them with another (white) child.  In particular, calling your black child a monkey should always be a no-no (think Penny Sparrow if you are wondering why).

As a postscript: this article contains a tiny overview of a huge topic.  There are many books and articles on the subject so if you are a transracially adoptive parent, learn as much as you can, especially before your child becomes a tween / teen and is increasingly busy with the work of identity formation.  Secondly, sociology teaches us that culture is fluid which makes this a moving target.  Learning about culture, race and ethnicity should therefore be continuous, rather than a once off event.

  1. Names and identity matter

Naming a child is a vital part of attachment, so it is natural for adoptive parents to want to name their child when they adopt.  But, it is also important to recognise that 99% of adoptive children already have a name when they are adopted.  In addition, it’s critical to recognise that name changes are one of the biggest sources of distress expressed by adult adoptees.  So here are some things to consider when naming your child.

  • Who gave your child their birth name? If it was a biological parent, your child has a profound association between their name and their first family.  Statistically however, there are more abandoned children than consented children on our adoption register so adoptive parents often choose not to keep a child’s name because it wasn’t given by a birth parent.  While this may be valid, it is worth considering that if your child is a foundling, the person who named them (usually a nurse, policeman or woman, or social worker) is also a significant part of their story.  So, regardless of how a child was placed for adoption, it may be worth keeping their birth name, even as a second or third name.
  • How old was your child when she or he was adopted? The older your child, the more their name is part of their identity, and changing it could be psychologically damaging.  The caveat here is that your child may be old enough to request a new name as part of their new identity.  In these instances, please talk to your child about keeping the old one as a second or third name in case they feel differently as an adult.
  • Is your adoption trans-racial? If so, and if your child’s birth name is part of their first culture, please again consider keeping it.  It may be a significant part of their identity formation to be able to revert to their birth name.  And if their first name isn’t a reflection of their cultural identity, please consider adding a name that is culturally relevant to their current name.  It is a huge gift to your child to have the option of using it when they are older.  I named my daughter 20 years before we adopted her, and her name, which means “hope, life and blessed” in different languages, is an integral part of her story.  But, we have retained her birth name too.  We use them both and if one day she chooses to revert to her birth name, we will support her in her decision.

As a note for those parents who didn’t keep their child’s birth name or whose transracially adopted child doesn’t have a culturally appropriate name, it isn’t too late to do something about it.  Changing a child’s name at Home Affairs is a relatively easy process (don’t be put off by the first, usually epic, name change process which also involved the changing of a surname and identity number), so please consider restoring their birth name, even if only as a second or third name.  Equally imperative is that you support your child if their need to identify with their culture or birth family (or any other reason) compels them to use that name rather than the one you gave them.

4. Terminology matters

As adoptive parents we are generally sensitive to language.  Few things are as uncomfortable as someone asking where your child’s “real parents” are, or if you “bought” your child.  Terminology matters, and not just for adoptive parents, but for every member of the triad. For example, if your child is consented, your child’s birth mother “placed her child for adoption”, she didn’t “give her away” or “get rid of him”.  How you refer to your child’s birth family is also crucial.  When your child is older, you should allow your children decide what they want to call their birth family.  But while they are little, please choose something that is personal and affirming.  When I write, I usually use the term “biological mother”, but I don’t with my daughter.  We refer to her first family or her birth mom and dad. If you are fortunate enough to have details about your child’s first family, you could also use their names and a descriptor.  Some social workers suggest “tummy mommy” for toddlers, and adult adoptees sometimes use “natural family” to describe their birth parents.  Either way, please make sure that your language honours your child’s other family and where possible, take your lead from your adoptee.      

Language related to abandoned children is particularly problematic.  Many parents struggle to be truthful, but not hurtful.  Still, it should go without saying (but sadly doesn’t), that you should never tell your child that they were “thrown away” or “discarded”.  Parents often feel justified in using this catastrophic language when their child has been abandoned unsafely.  But it’s worth remembering that adoptive parents usually have no idea what circumstances drove their child’s birth mother to abandonment, so even if you feel angry about it, please try to empathise with her.  In addition, a child’s sense of worth is tied up in the act.  Reinforcing it emphasises the child’s feelings of rejection.  My preference is therefore to refer to abandoned children as foundlings, thus highlighting the (more) positive part of their story rather than focusing on the desperate act of abandonment.

As a caveat, I recently heard of a social worker speaking about “good abandonment” (versus bad, I guess).  According to experts, this is a misnomer. Although it is essential to honour women who, when forced to abandon, don’t put their children in danger, no abandonment is “good”.  There is always loss of identity, relationship, and a feeling of rejection that comes with abandonment, and using that term may inadvertently downplay your child’s loss.  A more helpful distinction is between safe (where the child’s life is not placed in danger and there is some form of handover, often through a baby safe or a mother dropping a child off at a Place of Safety), and unsafe abandonment (which is itself on a spectrum, but where the child’s life is endangered by the act).

Please see part two of this article for the remaining three top tips.

First published on Becoming a Mom: 09.11.2018

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