Written by Celine Louie
As we journey through life, our paths can take us in any number of directions. At each fork in the road, we make new choices. On rare occasions, the less-beaten track may call to us, and we feel the lure to venture down the road less travelled—despite the obstacles we know we’ll ultimately face. Debbie Crouch is one such woman who decided that, despite the challenges, travelling that path was to be her lifelong mission.
To this day, Debbie literally travels this path daily—not only metaphorically, but also physically. Meeting the needs of her eight orphaned children, she trudges the muddy roads of Tanzania on foot, buying food and basic necessities from the small local shops and village markets, ensuring that her family of orphans is cared for in the best possible way.
You may wonder how Debbie found herself in such a remote location, and for that, we must travel back to 2012. A person of devout Christian faith, Debbie had asked God for a life purpose. At the time, she was living in Hervey Bay, single, with her two children now grown and living on their own—a fork in the road had presented itself. She felt the call to help others and make a difference in the world.
The answer came later that year, while enjoying a Safari holiday in Tanzania.
“I visited a really poor orphanage. It was in a very old house, concrete was falling off the walls and there were holes in the floor. They had 40 children and three bedrooms.”
She continues, “They had a piece of foam about three inches high in the middle of each room. It was about two meters by two and a half meters. At night the kids just squashed on the foam mattress to sleep.”
Surviving on a diet of ugali -a bland porridge made from over-processed corn flour and water—these orphans lived in horrendous poverty. With torn clothes, sores on their faces, and scabs in their hair, what touched Debbie the most was their desperate need for love.
“They live just like a pack of goats. They’ve got a roof. They’ve got ugali in their stomachs. They go to an overcrowded government school where the ratio is 99 kids to one teacher, but they don’t have love, and they don’t have family. So, I was praying that night, and I felt God say, ‘Okay, you want to do something for the world? Come and care for orphans.’”
With the answers she needed, Debbie bravely set foot down the beaten track, her faith in God serving as a much-needed guiding light.
While still on her safari holiday, Debbie befriended Moses, a traditional Maasai man who had adopted a more Westernized way of life and spoke fluent English. Intrigued by his culture they developed a friendship, and continued to stay in contact after Debbie returned home to Australia.
Over time, her friendship with Moses had deepened, and they decided to marry. A visit to his parents’ tribal village and the gift of a small goat sealed their engagement, and a year later, they enjoyed a lovely little wedding in Dar Es Salaam.
Six months later, Debbie had finalised her affairs in Hervey Bay and returned to Tanzania to start her orphanage. With no way to earn an income in Tanzania, she had given up her job as a dental nurse in Australia and cashed in her superannuation.
She bought land in Dar Es Salaam, laying the foundation for her orphanage. It was decided that Moses should use some of the leftover money to generate income to help.
Looking back, Debbie recalls how things took a turn for the worse. “He said there’s good money in selling Maasai sandals in Mozambique, so I gave him a whole lot of money, and he went over there for about two months. Once he’d sold them all, he came back. But on his return trip, the bus was robbed at the border at night. Men stopped the bus with guns and robbed everyone of everything. When he came home, I said it doesn’t matter—you’re safe.”
Moses then tried his luck with two more businesses, but tragedy continued to hinder his success. On his final trip away he became so sick with food poisoning that he ended up in hospital.
Debbie’s pastor’s wife worked at the same hospital, but Moses was nowhere to be found—the sickening truth about her marriage was suddenly revealed. After a lot of investigation, she discovered that her marriage had been a lie. Over the years, Moses had used her money to build a brick house for his other wife and four children.
“I used to be so materialistic, but when I found out, I said, ‘Okay, God, now it’s just me and You. I’ve got nothing.’ Moses and I had adopted a little boy, Elijah, and I’ve had him since he was two. I thought, well, I came here for the kids. So I asked around and found a little girl whose parents had died and whose grandparents were so old and so poor. I took her in, and then later found another one, and then another one. It’s like God’s helping me because this is what I decided to do.”
These days Debbie has become Mama to four boys and four girls, ranging in age from 3 to 12 years old.
Eight kids is the magic number, she has come to realise, as a three bedroom house comfortably fits two sets of bunks in each room for the girls and boys, and the third room is for herself and her ‘house girl’, and with ten mouths to feed, the workload and food bill each week is large but manageable.
Her home is incredibly basic by Western standards, yet it functions well for her family. Always grateful to have power and running hot water, her other priorities include a safe yard with high walls for the kids to play—under the watchful protection of their three dogs. No longer having the funds to build her own home on her land, she has struggled to find homes to rent where even the basic amenities work, such as power and hot water. Nothing is taken for granted here.
“I walk miles and miles. I am saving up for a little car. Here you can put 20 kids in a little five-seater car, there’s no problem, and so that’s one upside to it all.” Debbie tells me with a laugh.
The future is looking much brighter for these eight orphans and their new-found family. They go to a good school and with Mama Debbie at the helm, they feel a sense of security they’ve never known. They may not have toy boxes filled with all the things our Aussie kids have, but they are filled with appreciation for being loved and cared for. Their smiles and joyful demeanour say it all.
“They really, really appreciate their life, and they appreciate being loved. At night, if I go sit on the sofa with them, one will sit on one knee, one will sit on the other knee, one will sit right beside me, and another will try and push one off my knee so they can get on. Kids need love, and they just love it—they’re all over me. There are times I’m thinking, ‘Oh, it’s so hard,’ and then you hear them laugh and think, ‘Oh, it’s all worth it,’” Debbie says, her voice full of love.
Despite being in her late 60s, Debbie is determined to continue making a difference. Her mission doesn’t stop with just these eight orphans, and regardless of her age, she swears the love she gets from her kids helps keep her young.
“My dream is to sell the block of land I bought when I first arrived and get two acres here in Arusha. I want to build a house for me and my kids, and then build another house to fill with two widows, four boys, and four girls, which will make their family. Then, I want to build another house, get two widows to be the mamas, and get another four boys and four girls—that’ll be another family. Then, I’ll grow vegetables and fruit trees, have chickens, and a little play area with swings for the kids,” she tells me.
Unable to access her Australian pension, and with no way to generate an income, Debbie survives on the generosity of a few people back home—and her faith in God. Fortunately, a little goes a long way here, but Debbie struggles with the lack of financial security. She receives no funding and often lives week to week.
Setting up a registered orphanage has proved much harder than she’d hoped, but is something she aims to achieve down the track. For now, as a still-married Maasai woman, she is permitted to care for a few children.
Not one to ask for money, Debbie does have a vision, though: “I have a couple of friends who have set up automatic transfers each week. If I could get 20 more people to buy me ‘a cup of coffee’ each week, that would make such a difference to our lives here. It doesn’t have to be much—even $5 a week.”
If Debbie’s heartfelt story has touched you, and you would like to help, contact us for Debbie’s bank details.
