Late

Serious crimes have been committed in international adoptions, an investigation published on June 2nd concludes. The Adoption Commission proposes that international adoptions be stopped and that adoptees receive an apology and a sum of money. But for Susanna Johansson, it is too late, she writes in a post in poetic form.

Susanna Johansson, adoptee, sociologist, poet and author of the poetry collection Heliumballoon

Share

This is an argumentative debate article with the aim of influencing. The opinions expressed are the writer's own and not those of the newspaper. Do you also want to debate? We accept replies of a maximum of 2000 characters including spaces and debate articles on new topics of a maximum of 3500 characters. Send your text to debatt@tidningensyre.se

Many of us want an apology and a confirmation.
Many of us want a public apology
as a reparation for all that we have endured.

But for me
it doesn't really matter.

I am already aware of
what is true. No matter what they say. 
Or don't say.

My lived experience 
is proof enough. I know what happened 
because it was, and is , my life.
I carry the truth in my soul, 
and in my body, 
like a memory that never fades, 
the memory of an echoing farewell.

Even if they acknowledge the decades-long mistakes, 
and the still ongoing practice,
nothing can deny the grim statistics of our lives. 

Even if 
the Prime Minister,
with his sly fake smile,
would apologize
just to please the public, even though
EVERYONE already knows.

It's no secret 
that he has contributed to many ruined lives.
But it doesn't matter. Not to me.
Because, for me, it's already too late.

Nothing can change what I
've already lived through
Nothing and no one can turn back
the time that has passed between then and now
Or rewind all the years, or
heal all our wounds

It was already too late the day the Portuguese took their first steps onto the island of Sri Lanka, my country.
It was already too late when the Portuguese exported the island's spices in lucrative trade.
It was already too late when the Dutch landed on the island, and took over colonial power, 
exporting and trading cinnamon.
It was already too late when my ancestors' genes mixed with a European.
It was already too late when we instead became burghers and Sinhalese.
It was already too late when the British took over not just parts, but the entire island
and fundamentally changed the country's social structure. 
It was already too late when they cleared the forest, cultivated and exported Ceylon tea to the world.
It was already too late, even though my country regained independence, 
after 133 years as a British crown colony. 
It was already too late when my grandmother was born nine years after independence. 
It was already too late when the country took the name Sri Lanka in 1972 to anchor the name in 
pre-colonial history and culture.
It was already too late when my grandmother met Tatta as a young woman.
It was already too late late when the sun rose over the village that morning, the next day 
It was already too late when shame heated her cheeks when it became known 
that their meeting had borne fruit
It was already too late when it was decided that I would be abandoned
It was already too late when amma gave me my name Menaka, which was later corrupted to Mega in my first and only Sri Lankan passport
It was already too late when ruljangs of children were organized for the purpose of adoption from baby farms to the West
It was already too late when nuns who were supposed to represent Christians had a hand in this inhuman practice
It was already too late when Sri Lankan children began to spread throughout the world, like export goods from the former colony
It was already far too late when I was lifted from amma's arms and my heart froze to ice
It was already too late then, and it is still too late now
because I and my Sinhalese burgher amma, have lived parallel lives in different parts of the world, 
most of our time
And there are no apologies, no confirmations or validation from the state 
that can give back all that was stolen 
It's too late because the damage was done long ago
The only thing we can do now is try to heal and repair our severed ties
Ties that should never have been broken. 

All the time that has passed is like sand
, sand that runs through your fingers,
sand in an hourglass that runs out.

Maybe we'll have more time together
in the next life?