Lifestyle

The Unsung Resilience: Siblings’ Haven in a Pigpen

The night rain pounded relentlessly on the old, dilapidated house, each droplet feeling like a hammer blow, threatening to bring the fragile structure down. The mud walls, already sodden from the outdoor deluge, could not withstand the onslaught, and the interior soon matched the outdoors in its saturation. Fearing the worst, concerned neighbors rushed to the aid of three half-orphaned children, cowering together in a corner, their young eyes wide with terror.

Administrator

3 July, 2024

Nguyen Thanh Long, a sixth-grade student at Lang Quan Middle School in Yen Son District, Tuyen Quang Province, northern Vietnam, shuddered as he recalled the previous night’s storm. The rain had been relentless, and the wind howled like a beast. Long and his two siblings, who lived with their father in a modest home, had often felt safe and protected within its walls. But that night was different.

The neighbors rushed to help, and the sense of community was strong. They knew that Long’s aunt, who lived nearby, had a dilapidated pigpen that could provide temporary refuge for the children. With their own hands, they worked to mend the broken structure, knowing that it would offer some shelter from the elements.

Long’s younger sister, Ngoc Hoa, a third grader, stood by silently as the adults worked. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of fear and uncertainty, darted towards the remnants of their old home. It was now little more than a pile of broken dreams, its foundation cracked and battered by the forces of nature. “Dad’s gone,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know where Mom is.”

The three siblings now called their aunt’s makeshift pigsty home. It was a humble structure, patched together with leaves and tarpaulin, offering scant protection from the weather. One corner, suspended by bamboo poles, served as their bedroom, while another area was designated for cooking. It was a far cry from the comfort and security of their old home, but it was all they had.

“We had no other option but to repair this pigpen,” Ly Thi Lien, the children’s aunt, said with a heavy heart. “The thatched roof leaks, but the columns are strong enough to withstand the wind. We want to make sure they have a place to stay and continue their education.”

In the village, Long’s family had been known as the poorest. With their father’s passing and their house collapsing, the aunt’s family, who lived next door, inherited the title of the most impoverished in the community. Despite their own struggles, they opened their hearts and meager resources to care for the children.

Lien’s house, built with a government loan of VND20 million ($800) five years ago, still required essential repairs. The wooden doors were tightly secured with ropes to prevent them from swinging open in the wind. The family had once tended a small pig herd, providing a modest income, but a disease outbreak had taken the pigs’ lives, and they could not afford to replace them.

The three siblings, emaciated and bewildered by the sudden turn of events, found themselves in uncharted territory. Despite their poverty, their old home had been a sanctuary, shielding them from the harsh realities of life. Long, mature beyond his years due to financial struggles, had always found comfort in his parents’ presence. Now, he felt the weight of responsibility on his young shoulders.

Despite the challenges, Long excelled in school, earning certificates of merit annually. During parent-teacher meetings, his father’s proud smile and encouraging words had been a source of motivation. But those evenings, filled with warmth and love, now felt like distant memories.

Tensions had escalated over the past year, with arguments between the parents becoming more frequent. The children often sought refuge behind the house, where Lien and her husband welcomed them with open arms and a hot meal. They would quietly return home the next morning to retrieve their schoolbooks before heading off to school.

One day, returning from school, the siblings found their mother gone and their father drinking alone. Long, wise beyond his years, understood that their mother had left. The younger children, yearning for their mother’s embrace, sought comfort in their blankets, their tears a silent testament to their pain.

Towards the end of last year, the family received a charitable donation of VN8 million ($320). It was a substantial amount, and hopes were high. They planned to repair the roof, buy new clothes for the children, and celebrate the Lunar New Year in style. But then, their mother returned, and the family dynamic changed once more.

Thanh Long, Ngoc Hoa, and Minh Tan with their father before his passing. Photo: Supplied

Tragedy struck again as their parents’ arguments escalated, leading to their separation. The children’s father took his own life, leaving them confused and adrift. Lien’s family stepped up once more, arranging funeral services for their brother-in-law and providing meals for the children during the 49-day mourning period.

After the mourning period, the children’s uncles and aunts visited, but they eventually left, returning the children to their lonely existence in their old, dilapidated home. Each day, they attended school in the morning, shared meals at Lien’s residence, and returned to their aging dwelling in the evening to huddle together for comfort.

Hoang Dinh Thu, the head of Village 21 in Lang Quan Commune, explained that the local government had previously included Thanh Long’s family in a program aimed at assisting households with the construction of new, temporary homes. Unfortunately, the program required families to contribute financially, which Long’s father, due to financial difficulties, had been unable to do.

The village community, understanding the children’s plight, came together to offer support. Donations of rice, money, vegetables, and bamboo shoots poured in. However, the children’s old house was beyond repair, posing a safety risk. After much deliberation, it was decided that the children would move in with their aunt.

Long, aware of their fragile situation, feared that his education might be at stake. “I’m worried I won’t be able to continue my studies or even have enough rice to eat,” he confessed. The rice his father had bought was long gone, and he now relied on his aunt’s generosity for his meals.

The children’s clothing, like their home, showed signs of wear and tear. Long’s pants had a hole in the center, not from a mishap but from prolonged use. Hoa and Tan’s trousers bore similar tears. Hoa’s gaze remained distant, lost in her own thoughts, while Tan cherished two photos of his mother, one of which was now unprotected by its plastic covering.

Lien, witnessing their pain, found solace in their education. Long, despite his circumstances, excelled in school, earning academic honors every year. Since their father’s passing and their mother’s departure, teachers had encouraged Lien’s family to prioritize the children’s schooling. In Lang Quan Commune, where resources were scarce, students like Long were a rare treasure.

Hoa and Tan, too, had once been praised by their teachers, but their academic performance had suffered since their family’s separation. Long, determined to help his siblings, tutored them each evening, hoping to secure a better future for them all.

He didn’t dream of grand ambitions; he simply wanted enough food, clothing, and education for himself and his siblings. It was a humble desire, but one that seemed daunting in their current situation.

If you would like to help these children, please consider making a donation to the following account:

Recipient: Tuoi Tre Newspaper

Account Number: 113000006100

Bank: Vietnam Joint Stock Commercial Bank for Industry and Trade (Vietinbank)

Branch: Branch 3, Ho Chi Minh City

Please include the following reference in your transfer: “Assistance for the children in the April 12, 2024 print issue.” Your support will directly benefit these children and help secure their future.