Father Rob Marrevee about foreign adoption: 'Had I known all this, I would never have done it'

Rob Marrevee (60), adoptive father of sons Zenebe (25) and Jarra (22), in his book Vaderland puts an end to the 'fairytale' that a child from a poor country can be 'saved' with enough love. His sons support him. "My mission is to break something open."

"And where are you originally from?"

"From Ethiopia."

'Oh, you speak Dutch very well.'

'Yes, that's right, I grew up here. I've been adopted.'

"Well, then you've been really lucky, man."

It doesn't feel that way for Zenebe at all. And why was he more fortunate than someone who was born in the Netherlands? He didn't decide that himself, did he? 'But if you hear comments like that often enough,' says Zenebe, 'you automatically start thinking: I shouldn't be whining.'

According to Zenebe's father Rob Marrevee, this feeling of not being allowed to whine, of being grateful, is a result of the 'adoption fairytale': the idea that foreign parents save a child from a poor country through adoption and that all possible problems can be solved with a dash of love.

His book Vaderland will be published this week, in which Rob Marrevee (60) deals with that fairy tale. The book and an accompanying play give a very personal look at the difficulties his family has experienced since the brothers Zenebe and Jarra, when 4 and 1, were adopted from Ethiopia in 2001.

Passport of Jarra when he came to the Netherlands. Image Private archive Rob Marrevee

Passport of Jarra when he came to the Netherlands.

Image Private archive Rob Marrevee

Foreign adoption has come under considerable fire in recent years. There were countless scandals in the news, from 'orphans' who turned out to be just parents to 'baby farms' in Sri Lanka where children were given birth purely to later be traded in an adoption procedure.

Last year, after an extremely critical report by the Joustra Commission, the Dutch government announced a temporary stop to all foreign adoptions. Meanwhile, Minister Franc Weerwind (Legal Protection) is once again working on a new, stricter system, in which adoption remains possible as the last choice for children who have no future in their own country.

In the social discussion, the focus is mainly on institutional abuses: tampering with documents and potential child trafficking. But in Vaderland , Rob Marrevee raises a more fundamental question: is it a good idea at all to pluck a small child from its environment and let it grow up in a foreign country?

His sons are completely behind that he shares the toughest moments of their youth with the world, they say in their parents' newly built house in Lent, near Nijmegen. Zenebe is sitting at the dining table opposite his father. Jarra (22) is present online, a screen between them.

He joins the conversation via Facetime, because he works temporarily in Malta. In September he will start a media training in Utrecht. Zenebe has just finished his higher vocational education in social work and wants to make another attempt in that direction after the summer, but at MBO level.

The fact that studying is difficult has partly to do with the trauma of adoption, says Zenebe. “I have always believed that at some point I would be rid of my anger and sadness. But that's not really the case.'

Rob Marrevee has thought a lot about his own part in the problems his sons are experiencing in writing this book. He comes to a hard, painful conclusion about the adoption: "Had I known all this, I would never have done it at the time."

That is a strong message to express publicly as an adoptive parent.

Rob: 'It is my mission to break something open with this. I sent my book to a group of adoptive parents of Ethiopian children with whom we used to meet annually. I thought: I'm sure I'll get a lot of responses. But not beautiful. While our situation is really not unique. There are plenty of adoptive families where it is all much more difficult.'

Why is that such a taboo?

Rob: 'The loyalty to your child, and vice versa, is apparently so great that we prefer to keep it all covered.'

Zenebe: 'Some people don't feel like all that hassle. Then you choose to smile and wave. I understand that, but I can't keep it up for the rest of my life myself.'

It is not a happy book.

Zenebe: 'No. Others are shocked when they read that we had so much arguing. But it's normal for me, it doesn't surprise me.'

Rob: 'Perhaps it is a pity that I did not describe more beautiful moments, because there were. But I'm afraid that people will only continue to mention the positive side of adoption. While it's just really intense.'

His voice shoots up on that last sentence.

Zenebe: "Calm down."

Rob: 'What bothers us is that others keep downplaying the problem. When I told what kind of collisions we had, people would say: that's just puberty, so and so suffers from that too. Well-intentioned, but it does make you lonely.'

Zenebe: 'I have tried to explain to my family in Ethiopia that there are things about which I am sad and angry, even though I live in a country where I have everything materially. They see that as luxury problems. It was painful for me that I didn't find understanding there, but not here either.'

Why are the problems in adoptive families different?

Zenebe: 'The unconditional bond that parents and children normally have is not feasible for us. That which is super normal for everyone, which others take for granted, we do not have. We walk on tiptoe. There is so much distance, nothing is taken for granted. There is a big cultural difference, so it is difficult to really understand each other. Friends say: I also argue a lot with my parents. Yes, but I think the unconditional makes it easier for you to forgive your parents, and vice versa. In me, quarrels immediately create fear of being abandoned.'

Rob: 'It's hard to imagine what that means if you don't experience it yourself. My wife and I started adoption because we wanted children. And we project all our love onto them. We have all kinds of expectations and they cannot meet them, even if they want to. In that body there is so much information from the past, they have already been very disappointed once. So the more love we want to give, the more exciting it gets for them. That's frustrating as a parent, because you want so badly.'

The idea to adopt arose during the period when Rob Marrevee and his wife Irma were working on artificial insemination and IVF. The more often those fertility treatments failed, the more serious the plan became. At the time, they both worked in youth care and were therefore not naive, he says. 'In the home where Irma worked, she met enough adopted children. We knew it was going to be difficult. And yet I thought: with a lot of attention, love and assistance everything will be fine.'

In 2001, after six years on a waiting list, they traveled to Ethiopia to pick up two brothers from a children's home. On the first meeting, Zenebe gave his adoptive parents a kiss, as the nuns had apparently instructed, and said, "I love you very much."

Zenebe was 4 at the time, it was said. Later it turned out that he is probably a year older. His brother Jarra was 1 when they came to the Netherlands.

From the family album: Rob and Irma Marrevee collect the brothers Zenebe and Jarra from Ethiopia in 2001. Image Lin Woldendorp

From the family album: Rob and Irma Marrevee collect the brothers Zenebe and Jarra from Ethiopia in 2001.

Image Lin Woldendorp

The first years it took some getting used to and there were difficult episodes, but they had counted on that. At primary school, the boys were doing relatively well. Rob to Zenebe: 'You seemed quite happy.'

Zenebe: 'Yes, that was true, I was quite carefree at the time. I always wanted to be as Dutch as possible, just like my friends. So I did my best to speak Dutch very well and to behave as neatly as possible.'

Remarkably, as a little boy Zenebe sometimes says that his Ethiopian father is still alive, while his adoptive parents were told that the brothers are orphans. But six years after their departure from their native country, a letter falls on the mat in Nijmegen with a message from someone who claims to be their father. He was stationed as a soldier in Eritrea, he writes. 'When I came back, my wife had died and my children had been given away to people in the Netherlands.' In one effort the father asks if it is possible to transfer some money.

Zenebe: 'And with that you immediately learn as a child that you cannot trust people. Because the nuns in the orphanage had told me that my father was dead. That's quite something to say to a child, if it isn't true. I believed my father's story that he was in Eritrea. But it is of course not at all certain that this is really true. Because people also lied about my age. If things are going very badly in a country and you know you can give your children a better future by telling a lie, I understand that you do that. But I'd rather know now. It's a bit of a pity that you doubt everything.'

What was it like as a parent to read that letter from their biological father?

Rob: 'Irma was especially upset, because it was very clear to her that she only wanted to adopt children whose parents had died. We felt pretty screwed up. But yes, what should you do? We were glad he didn't say: I want my children back.'

Shortly afterwards you met him. How did it go?

Rob: 'He was a quiet man. I got the impression that his sister arranged the adoption and kept him out of it a bit. And if it is true that he was in that war, then of course it is very sad for him that it happened that way. But he always stays very in the background.'

Jarra was 11 and Zenebe 15 when you first returned to Ethiopia together. Why did you want that then?

Jarra: 'I was less conscious about it at the time. I just wanted to go that way, to meet him and meet the family, but I didn't have any special thoughts behind it.'

Rob: 'Zenebe didn't really want to come. During puberty he had become increasingly uncomfortable in his own skin, he started to eat more, became fat. We thought then: maybe it would be good if he sees that there is an African family who also loves him. We took a risk with that. It could fall either way. And unfortunately it fell the wrong way, because from that moment everything became more difficult for him. That he thought: oh dear, that African family, what am I supposed to do with that?'

Zenebe: 'I was not really at ease during that trip, you can see that in the photos. What's difficult: I can hardly let your love in, but I also have that with my family there. I didn't really see them as family anymore, I didn't feel it. The other way around they did, I was the prodigal son who came back. So I felt a kind of responsibility that I had to give that back. While I couldn't or didn't want to do that at all.'

In Vaderland , Rob Marrevee describes how things go wrong after that time. The quarrels, in which the eldest son literally flies at his father and the youngest contributes: 'You are not his real father!' The truant, the weed. It is around the age of 18 that Zenebe says out loud for the first time that it might have been better if he hadn't been adopted.

Zenebe: 'Then I might live in poverty, but I would live with my family and without this hassle in my head all the time. †

Rob: 'The tear you make by taking someone out of their culture is so final. And that causes the soul to wander. Our boys can't ground. And I hear that from many adoptees. On the outside everything seems to be going well, but they always feel an emptiness.'

Zenebe: 'The big shock when I read the book was that Rob felt guilty about that and that he might not even have adopted us if he had known all this. I didn't like to read that, no. That's all you don't want to give your parents. But yes, I also want to be able to speak out freely.'

Does that also apply to you Jarra, that sometimes you think it would have been better if you hadn't been adopted?

Jarra: 'No, not really. Because Zenebe said that, I did think about what that would be like. But I'm less concerned with the adoption anyway compared to my brother. I was much younger when I came to the Netherlands, that also makes a difference.'

Zenebe: 'Jarra always understands what I'm talking about, but we have the idea that it weighs less for him. That it penetrates my body more for me.'

Jarra: 'I can see what he means, but it matters less to me. Lately I've wanted to be a little less Dutch, a bit more looking for my roots. I have a lot of Dutch friends and that's okay, but sometimes I think it would be nice to have more other cultures around me.'

Zenebe: 'I noticed it again at a party recently. Then African dance music comes along and my Dutch friends drop out. That's okay, but for us that's another...'

Jarra: '...confirmation.'

Zenebe: 'Then you have to make such a choice: do I go really hard to this music or do I go to another stage with my friends? That's always a two-way street. It would be nice if you weren't always special.'

Photos from the family album: the first photos that the Marrevee couple received from the brothers. Statue Lin Woldendorp

Photos from the family album: the first photos that the Marrevee couple received from the brothers.

Statue Lin Woldendorp

There is now debate as to whether foreign adoption should be banned altogether. That seemed to happen for a while, but now the new minister wants to keep the option open. What do you think about that?

Rob: 'Let me put it this way: it was now very easy to go for adoption. I sometimes feel guilty about that, that I was born in the rich West where things are fixed and arranged. You could also have thought: this is our fate, we will not have children together. In Ethiopia it was also too easy to bring children to a home. While when I look at that family now: they are sweet and there is quite good contact. It may be a bit poorer, but they weren't that bad after all. With some support, our boys could have grown up with their own families. It's a shame they didn't get that chance.'

Jarra: 'Yes, with a little more guidance it could have been just as well there, I think that too.'

Zenebe: 'I'd rather not think too much about it. I've kind of closed that scenario out now. I would not necessarily say: adoption is not allowed at all. Because children who grow up in foreign homes usually do not benefit either. And when I look at my own situation, I am now a little further in learning to deal with it and I already feel a bit better about it. I believe that eventually I can also be happy here.'

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