The World Does Change.

By Jo Teunissen – Director of the Durban North Baby Home

At The Durban North Baby Home, we are incredibly blessed to have Professor Thuli Madonsela as our patron. For those who’ve met her, you’ll know she carries a rare presence. She is gentle, grounding, calming and wise. I recently described her to my daughter as a human weighted blanket. Much like one, she brings warmth and calm amid chaos. She doesn’t speak loudly, but when she does speak, her words, like a weighted blanket, are comforting, reassurance, clarifying, and loving.

At one of our events, I shared a quote I’ve often used when talking about adoption: “Adopting a child won’t change the world, but for that child, the world will change.” It’s something I’ve believed for years. But Professor Madonsela gently challenged me. She said, “Jo, the world does change. We don’t know who that child will become—they could grow up to be the next great doctor, artist, peacemaker or president.”

That’s something that has never left me. It’s always in the back of my mind when making important decisions about children in our care.

Recently, we’ve had to make some difficult decisions regarding one of the children. Decisions that weigh heavily, because they are not just about placement or processes. They are about a little human. They’re about love, belonging, identity, and future. These are the moments where the lines are blurry and the outcome unknown. But her words have helped guide us; they remind us to look beyond the immediate and see each child not only as they are today, but as who they could become. To make the brave choice, even when it’s painful, because their impact may reach far beyond what we can see now.

We would be lying if we said the children in our care have had an easy start. Many come from broken homes, some are abandoned, and others removed from situations no child should ever face. But the moment they arrive at The Baby Home, a new chapter begins—a chapter of safety, love, and hope. There is no handbook with guaranteed outcomes. Yet we carry the responsibility to choose what we believe is in their best interest, knowing our choices will shift the course of their life forever.

These children remind us of diamonds, olive oil, and wine. At first glance, these may seem like simple things, but their creation tells a deeper story.

Diamonds are formed deep within the earth, under immense pressure and heat. Only through that process does carbon become something brilliant and unbreakable. Similarly, some of our children have endured deep hardship but with love and care, they emerge resilient and radiant, ready to shine.

Olive oil is made by crushing and pressing olives. What was once bitter becomes smooth, rich, and nourishing. Children may arrive carrying the weight of early trauma, but in a space filled with safety, routine, and compassion, their potential begins to pour out. What felt broken becomes purposeful and life-giving.

And then there is wine. Known for its depth and its ability to improve over time, the finest wines aren’t rushed. They’re aged, cared for, and matured under just the right conditions. Just like our children, who, with time and nurturing, grow in ways that surprise and inspire. Their journeys are not linear, but full of promise.

By the time they leave us for their forever families, they carry something truly special, not just survival, but strength. Not just recovery, but hope. No longer a sad story, but a promise of a bright future.

All of them, every single life, deserves thoughtful, loving, courageous decisions made on their behalf. And that’s the hardest part. Even deciding what to have for dinner can be a challenge, and now we are making decisions that will affect the rest of someone’s life. And if Thuli’s words are true, perhaps even the world.

Sometimes you’re choosing between two good options. Sometimes between the familiar and the unknown. There are days you sit with reports, timelines and pressure from systems that don’t understand the complexity of trauma or know the child you have loved their whole life. And still, you are asked to choose. To advocate. To decide.

As crisis parents and caregivers, we carry these choices with us long after the paperwork is filed and the kids have left. We think about them late at night. We wonder about the “what ifs,” and carry the weight of each child’s story in our hearts.

I often go back to Thuli’s words. The world does change. That child whose life hangs in the balance today might grow up to bring healing, innovation, or change into spaces that need it most. Our job is not just to keep them safe; it’s to give them every chance to become who they were created to be. And so, we hold the weight, we sit with the impossible and we carry the responsibility. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s important.

We do it for the diamonds.
We do it for the olive oil.
We do it for the wine.

About The Author

Joanne Teunissen is an advocate for vulnerable women and children and the director of the Durban North Baby Home, a place of safety for abandoned and vulnerable babies. With a deep belief in love, dignity, and second chances, Joanne and her team work to ensure that every child and every mother is seen, heard, and valued. To support or learn more, visit www.babyhome.org.za