Dynasty’s Quest for Destiny


She calls herself Dynasty and has the wits of a woman who is sure of what she wants in life.

“All I want is my baby,” she assures me.

I took notice of Dynasty the day I entered a local internet cafe located on Broad Street last month. She was the only customer crying.

All eyes were on her. No one could understand why such a seemly, composed woman would be crying.

“Che my people, what happened to her? Ma, you’re disturbing the other customers,” someone shouted.

There she sat, her features deranged from grief and misery. I watched her, anxious to give her a hug and tell her that everything would be okay.

As I drew closer, I noticed that her right fingers frantically clicked on the mouse that was in front of her. On the flat Dell screen that brightly shone flashing lights over her tears were the faces of little girls, children who all appeared to be 11 years old.

“Why are you crying?” I asked.

Dynasty leaned closer towards the screen as though I didn’t matter and with a sniff, she stopped crying.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help crying when I think about Destiny, my daughter,” she struggled to say.

Her statement took me aback and with a swift motion I turned to see what was causing her pain.

As I stared into the computer screen, I felt depressed. Right at that moment, it dawned on me what had happened to Dynasty. She had lost her child. And she was in search of her.

“I was pregnant with Destiny when INS in America decided that I needed to leave their country. Sadly enough, they detained me for two years while I waited to be deported. I gave birth to my little girl in jail,” she confessed.

More over, Dynasty remembers trying to beg the INS to allow her to voluntarily depart before Destiny was born, but to no avail.

“I was counseled and forced into signing adoption papers before giving birth to Destiny. My lawyer told me that it would help me stay in America,” she added.

It didn’t.

Baby Destiny spent three days in the hospital with her mother the week she was born. On the third day, after Destiny’s last night of sleeping with Dynasty in her hospital bed, the infant was taken away.

“I was shackled throughout my hospital stay in Westminster, Maryland but I didn’t care. What mattered the most was those three days with my baby. Oh, how I miss her so much after all these years,” she wailed.

Dynasty still holds on close to her infant’s hospital picture that was taken the day Destiny was born.

On October 2004, two years after she last saw Destiny, Dynasty boarded a plane in handcuffs to return to Liberia.

“I have no clue where Destiny is or how she may look now, but what’s for certain is, one of these days I will have a chance to tell my side of the story to her,” Dynasty added sadly.

Meanwhile, Dynasty uses every dime she earns to browse the net in hopes of finding her child.

As I stood near Dynasty and watched her filter through hundreds of little girls that day, all bearing the name Destiny, I understood.

I slid next to her and helped her search.


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