Elephant boy

Originally published in Himal Southasian, August '09

Pious Hindus have been trekking in their thousands to a remote village in the Nepali Himalaya, to catch sight of a baby with a rare malformation – a headless ‘parasitic twin’ fused to its abdomen. But they don’t come merely to ogle; they are on a pilgrimage to pay homage to an incarnation of Ganesh. The baby boy’s four arms and four legs chime with common representations of the elephant god with multiple arms; this ‘miracle’ is considered no coincidence. Word has got about: Since Risab was born in January, his family has had to welcome some 5, 000 visitors, many from far away districts, a few having walked the entire way. The village can be inundated by as much as a hundred in a day. The father, Rikhi Ghimire, is frequently addressed by pilgrims as the father of god.

But the attitude towards Risab has been somewhat cooler in the village itself. The mother, Januk, fears that many villagers believe the birth to be witchcraft; such superstitions are resilient in rural Nepal, and have been know to give way to violence. What is more, a village priest, Sher Bahadur Bodathorki, has openly accused to baby of being a curse on the village – the fruit of a sin from a past life – and the cause of the delayed monsoon. The late and lacklustre rains have been disastrous for agriculturally-dependent families – the majority of Nepal – and the subsequent anger could prove dangerous when coupled with delusions such as this.

Despite the fanfare, Ghimire family want nothing more than for their boy to have a ‘normal body’. Risab suffers from a condition that afflicts from one in 50,000 to one in 200,000 births. There is little awareness of such conditions in rural Nepal; hence the reaction, both positive and negative. Rikhi has already taken a trip to Kathmandu in search of a medical solution – a lengthy and costly measure from a village a full day’s walk from the nearest town. But, after examination, doctors said they would need to monitor Risab for six months. Rikhi could not afford to be out of work and live in Kathmandu that long. And the necessary surgery would in any case cost upwards of USD 50, 000. There was nothing for it but to return home with Risab.

The needs of the infant are barely met by the impoverished family; he is difficult to bathe, oil and put to sleep. A family of five living in a one-room house they share with goats and chickens, both mother and father toil in the fields through the day, leaving Risab to the care of his maternal grandmother. Yet, despite the burden, Januk is adamant that Risab will not be put up for adoption. A cynic may put this down to the material benefit the child generates for the family; the thousands of pilgrims invariably leave offerings of rupees, and sometimes food and clothes. But this is belied by the great efforts already taken by the father to seek medical help. And perseverance in the face of borderline social ostracism, in a society where the community is paramount, speaks of genuine commitment.