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18 NEWS SUNDAY, MAY 4, 2014 HERALDSUN.COM.AU BYE BYE ... · while CFF formed plans to get him...

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18 NEWS SUNDAY, MAY 4, 2014 HERALDSUN.COM.AU MHSE01Z01MA - V1 ACCORDING to his passport he is Thiery Henri, 17, from Madagascar. But like everything about “Thiery”, the truth is much more mysterious. While his past may be shrouded in darkness, the fu- ture is full of hope for the boy being pieced back together by the Children First Foundation, a Melbourne surgeon and the Victorian couple who found him in the African bush. With the bones in his legs bent at horrifying 90 degree angles, some of Austra- lia’s best paediatric surgeons put Thiery’s case in the too- hard basket, believing only an amputation could help. But radical surgery by Prof Leo Donnan — in which sec- tions of Thiery’s legs were re- moved and rebuilt shorter and straighter around a rod — has given the Madagascan mystery boy a chance to walk into a life he never dared dream of. The surgery also answered some of the more alarming questions about Thiery, show- ing physical rebuilding was just part of the healing needed. First Thiery’s bones told the surgeon that he was probably only about 13. More horrifying, they also showed he had not been de- formed at birth — instead, Thi- ery’s legs were agonisingly bent through years of neglect, malnourishment, abuse and a series of untreated fractures. “His legs are one issue, but what he has gone through psychologically and emotion- ally is even worse, I think,” Prof Donnan said. IN MAY 2011 Thiery and Rox- anne Le Blanc were on an ad- venture trip across Mada- gascar when they were bogged near the remote village of Am- panarena: a dot with about 30 mud huts and home to about 200 villagers in the country’s west. Mobbed by children, the Wonga Park couple noticed a disabled boy in rags dragging himself behind the others. “We only looked at him for a few seconds, but in that mo- ment we knew we had to do something,” Ms Le Blanc said. “It was meant to be as we knew nobody would ever stop and see him again, so if we didn’t do something nobody else ever would.” The Le Blancs contacted the CFF on returning to Australia to see what could be done. Their tour guide returned to the village repeatedly to track down the mystery boy, collect- ing as many details as he could while CFF formed plans to get him surgery in Australia. There were no records for the boy and though his name was believed to be Tere, he still refuses to say what the people in his village call him. WITH a birth certificate and passport needed to get to Aus- tralia, the few pieces of known facts were supplemented by made-up information. In a brutal twist of irony whoever was left to fill out the paperwork recorded his name as Thiery Henri — a soccer star (albeit a different spelling) with two of the most gifted legs in the world. The documents also list Thiery’s mother as Miliene, 32, a lady he describes as a friend who helps him fish, but who his Australian carers believe to be his biological mother. Thiery nominates another woman as his mother, though he refuses to state who she is. Unable to afford school, Thiery worked using a shovel and his balancing stick to re- move mud in the wet season, or farming vegetables and rice at other times. When Thiery’s guard comes down he can be the life of the party, full of humour in his sto- ries of fishing and hunting. Other times he sheds a light on a frightening past. He talks of starving and having to fight children and adults for food; seeing people’s heads bashed in with a ham- mer; or watching his mother defend herself with an axe. Night-time attacks from rival tribes running though his village, burning houses and as- saulting people have left him terrified of the dark. Other times the dangers came from those much closer to home. “When I feel scared I just hide in the bush,” Thiery says. “I was nearly killed when somebody was drinking and I was next to him ... I ran away but he chased me. He took a big, big, big stick and he hit me. It was very scary. There was nobody to protect me.” THIERY arrived in Melbourne on January 24, 2013, to live at the CFF’s Kilmore farm. In keeping with his passport Thiery Henry was treated to a birthday party on March 3 — though at just 22kg and wear- ing size 7 it was decided to con- sider him as 12 and ignore his official age. But carrying so much bag- gage from his past made it im- possible for Thiery to conform, and after violent meltdowns farm manager Pat Weldon said it was difficult for Thiery to remain. “It was very obvious he had had a hard time because he had no social skills, no idea what was acceptable, but it wasn’t his fault,” he said. “It was obvious he had been mistreated because even if your shadow crossed him he would get a fright. With any sort of confrontations he does what he is used to and hits out. That is all he has ever known.” Thiery was moved to live with the Le Blancs, where he could gain one-on-one care and treatment with a psychol- ogist — and the little boy in- side gradually emerged. Thiery taught himself to speak English by living with his carers and watching tele- vision, learned to ride a bike and tie his shoelaces in a day, and advanced so far he was able to go to the local school and socialise with friends. “It has all panned out even though we have had our hic- cups along the way,” Mr Le Blanc said. The biggest turning point came at Christmas when Thiery joined the family on a camping trip to Point Leo. “He was a tiny little shrink- ing violent, but now he is a confident young man. He loves school, he loves socialising and is just a different person,” Ms Le Blanc said. “He understands now that there are good things about him.” DESPITE several hospitals giving away any hope of re- pairing Thiery’s bent legs, Prof Donnan had undertaken simi- lar work on other children for CFF and agreed to donate the work at St Vincent’s Private as soon as he saw photos of him. “It was as clear as day that we could make a significant impact to him for the rest of his life,” Prof Donnan said. “He was getting around on the bumps on the front of his shins, or on his feet which were BYE BYE, MELBOURNE Thiery flies home today with new legs, new plans and the chance of a new start. Thanks to a generous Wonga Park couple and a Melbourne paediatric surgeon, this shy, troubled boy has blossomed into ... well, some days he’s now the life of the party. GRANT McARTHUR reports How a poor kid from Africa — with no name and legs that wouldn’t
Transcript
Page 1: 18 NEWS SUNDAY, MAY 4, 2014 HERALDSUN.COM.AU BYE BYE ... · while CFF formed plans to get him surgery in Australia. There were no records for the boy and though his name was believed

18 NEWS SUNDAY, MAY 4, 2014 HERALDSUN.COM.AU

MHSE01Z01MA - V1

ACCORDING to his passporthe is Thiery Henri, 17, fromMadagascar.

But like everything about“Thiery”, the truth is muchmore mysterious.

While his past may beshrouded in darkness, the fu-ture is full of hope for the boybeing pieced back together bythe Children First Foundation,a Melbourne surgeon and theVictorian couple who foundhim in the African bush.

With the bones in hislegs  bent at horrifying 90degree angles, some of Austra-lia’s best paediatric surgeonsput Thiery’s case in the too-hard basket, believing only anamputation could help.

But radical surgery by ProfLeo Donnan — in which sec-tions of Thiery’s legs were re-moved and rebuilt shorter andstraighter around a rod — hasgiven the Madagascan mysteryboy a chance to walk into a lifehe never dared dream of.

The surgery also answeredsome of the more alarmingquestions about Thiery, show-ing physical rebuilding was justpart of the healing needed.

First Thiery’s bones told thesurgeon that he was probablyonly about 13.

More horrifying, they alsoshowed he had not been de-formed at birth — instead, Thi-ery’s legs were agonisinglybent through years of neglect,malnourishment, abuse and aseries of untreated fractures.

“His legs are one issue, butwhat he has gone throughpsychologically and emotion-ally is even worse, I think,”Prof Donnan said.

IN MAY 2011 Thiery and Rox-anne Le Blanc were on an ad-venture trip across Mada-gascar when they were boggednear the remote village of Am-panarena: a dot with about30  mud huts and home toabout 200 villagers in thecountry’s west.

Mobbed by children, theWonga Park couple noticed adisabled boy in rags dragginghimself behind the others.

“We only looked at him fora few seconds, but in that mo-ment we knew we had to dosomething,” Ms Le Blanc said.

“It was meant to be as weknew nobody would ever stopand see him again, so if wedidn’t do something nobodyelse ever would.”

The Le Blancs contacted theCFF on returning to Australiato see what could be done.

Their tour guide returned tothe village repeatedly to trackdown the mystery boy, collect-ing as many details as he couldwhile CFF formed plans to gethim surgery in Australia.

There were no records forthe boy and though his namewas believed to be Tere, he stillrefuses to say what the peoplein his village call him.

WITH a birth certificate andpassport needed to get to Aus-tralia, the few pieces of knownfacts were supplemented bymade-up information.

In a brutal twist of ironywhoever was left to fill out thepaperwork recorded his nameas Thiery Henri — a soccerstar (albeit a different spelling)with two of the most gifted legsin the world.

The documents also listThiery’s mother as Miliene, 32,a lady he describes as a friendwho helps him fish, but who hisAustralian carers believe to behis biological mother.

Thiery nominates anotherwoman as his mother, thoughhe refuses to state who she is.

Unable to afford school,Thiery worked using a shoveland his balancing stick to re-move mud in the wet season,or farming vegetables and riceat other times.

When Thiery’s guard comesdown he can be the life of theparty, full of humour in his sto-ries of fishing and hunting.

Other times he sheds a lighton a frightening past.

He talks of starving andhaving to fight children andadults for food; seeing people’sheads bashed in with a ham-mer; or watching his motherdefend herself with an axe.

Night-time attacks fromrival tribes running though hisvillage, burning houses and as-saulting people have left himterrified of the dark. Othertimes the dangers came fromthose much closer to home.

“When I feel scared I just

hide in the bush,” Thiery says.“I was nearly killed when

somebody was drinking and Iwas next to him ... I ran awaybut he chased me. He took abig, big, big stick and he hit me.It was very scary. There wasnobody to protect me.”

THIERY arrived in Melbourneon January 24, 2013, to live atthe CFF’s Kilmore farm.

In keeping with his passportThiery Henry was treated to abirthday party on March 3 —though at just 22kg and wear-ing size 7 it was decided to con-sider him as 12 and ignore hisofficial age.

But carrying so much bag-gage from his past made it im-possible for Thiery to conform,and after violent meltdownsfarm manager Pat Weldonsaid it was difficult for Thieryto remain.

“It was very obvious he hadhad a hard time because hehad no social skills, no ideawhat was acceptable, but itwasn’t his fault,” he said.

“It was obvious he had beenmistreated because even ifyour shadow crossed him hewould get a fright. With anysort of confrontations he doeswhat he is used to and hits out.That is all he has ever known.”

Thiery was moved to live

with the Le Blancs, where hecould gain one-on-one careand treatment with a psychol-ogist — and the little boy in-side gradually emerged.

Thiery taught himself tospeak English by living withhis carers and watching tele-vision, learned to ride a bikeand tie his shoelaces in a day,and advanced so far he wasable to go to the local schooland socialise with friends.

“It has all panned out eventhough we have had our hic-cups along the way,” Mr LeBlanc said. The biggest turningpoint came at Christmas whenThiery joined the family on acamping trip to Point Leo.

“He was a tiny little shrink-ing violent, but now he is aconfident young man. He lovesschool, he loves socialising andis just a different person,” MsLe Blanc said. “He understands

now that there are good thingsabout him.”

DESPITE several hospitalsgiving away any hope of re-pairing Thiery’s bent legs, ProfDonnan had undertaken simi-lar work on other children forCFF and agreed to donate thework at St Vincent’s Private assoon as he saw photos of him.

“It was as clear as day thatwe could make a significantimpact to him for the rest of hislife,” Prof Donnan said.

“He was getting around onthe bumps on the front of hisshins, or on his feet which were

BYE BYE, MELBOURNEThiery flies home today with new legs, new plans and the chance of a new start. Thanks to a generous Wonga Park couple and a Melbourne paediatric surgeon, this shy, troubled boy has blossomed into ... well, some days he’s now the life of the party. GRANT McARTHUR reports

How a poor kid from Africa — with no name and legs that wouldn’t work — came here and was saved by a group of inspiring Victorians

Page 2: 18 NEWS SUNDAY, MAY 4, 2014 HERALDSUN.COM.AU BYE BYE ... · while CFF formed plans to get him surgery in Australia. There were no records for the boy and though his name was believed

HERALDSUN.COM.AU SUNDAY, MAY 4, 2014 NEWS 19

V1 - MHSE01Z01MA

How a poor kid from Africa — with no name and legs that wouldn’t work — came here and was saved by a group of inspiring Victorians

de-functioned because of thesevere bend. They bent so farhis feet were actually pointingup in the air.”

In June 2013, Prof Donnanremoved several sections ofbone in Thiery’s legs between2.5cm and 3.5cm.

The orthopedic surgeonthen created a channel in Thi-ery’s remaining shins and in-serted metal rods as internalsplints to hold them straightand prevent new breaks.

With no sign of bone dis-ease, it became apparent thatmalnourishment had weak-ened Thiery’s bones and trau-

ma caused fractures. Thediagnosis was reinforced whena medical examination re-vealed evidence of an attackwith glass near his eye that waslucky not to blind him.

The medical evidence alsobacks up Thiery’s own storiesof constant trauma.

Thiery, who remembers hislegs being straight when hewas younger, recalls a time hegot lost in the bush.

“I ran back and there was athing following me, like an ani-mal that was big and hairy,then I jumped and I was sore inmy leg and I became sleepy.”

Another time he describesplaying at a beach when hissiblings repeatedly jumped ontop of him, snapping his legs.

TODAY Thiery is flying out ofMelbourne to return home adifferent person. He has legs tomatch his new famous nameand take him anywhere hewants, and has grown to ahealthy 40kg.

Thiery can also speak En-glish, unlike most in his village.

Most importantly, though,he has a new sense of worth.

But with so much ahead ofhim, Thiery’s Australian

friends hope he will not returnpermanently to a life of abuseand begging in Ampanarena.

Instead the Le Blancs andtheir tour guide are organisinga school, lodgings and privatetutor for Thiery. The unknownelement is Thiery himself, whoone moment talks of his dreamto become a mechanic, and thenext appears resigned to hisfate in the village.

The Le Blancs will accom-pany Thiery on his journey butwill stop two days’ drive fromAmpanarena for fear of seeinghim back in his squalid setting.

“He is going to have to rein-

vent himself when he goesback — they are not evengoing to recognise him whenhe walks back into that vil-lage,” Ms Le Blanc said.

Thiery will have to return toMelbourne in coming years forProf Donnan to re-examinehis legs, and the surgeon hopesto see a well-adjusted teenager.

“He is a tough kid to lookafter, but he has come a longway since he arrived,” ProfDonnan said.

TO SUPPORT THE CHILDREN FIRST FOUNDATION TO HELP THOSE SUCH AS THIERY, VISIT CHILDRENFIRSTFOUNDATION.ORG.AU OR CALL 9329 4822

Thiery Henri was discovered in his Madagascan village by Thiery and Roxanne Le Blanc (below left) with legs cruelly deformed by malnourishment and trauma (right). Boasting a passport (left) with echoes of a soccer great, Thiery came to Melbourne, where orthopedic surgeon Prof Leo Donnan (below right) fixed his legs using a system of rods. Pictures: TONY GOUGH, JAY TOWN


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