Veenu Naik walked through the doors of Sethu for the first time in 2010, concerned that her son Abdullah, 2, couldn’t focus, talk or stand. The doctor she’d taken him to referred her to Dr Nandita de Souza, the developmental paediatrician who’d treated his own son. “Dr Nandita told me what to do based on what he needed. I did everything she said, like labelling things around the house. Abdullah began speaking after 3—4 therapy sessions. Today he does all his things himself,” explains Veenu.
Meanwhile at home, Abdullah’s father struggled to come to terms with the fact that his son had autism, a developmental disorder characterised by difficulties with social behaviour and communication. The friction drove the couple apart. “I was financially dependent but I also didn’t want my children growing up in a stressful environment,” says Veenu. Her father and brother were completely supportive. Her maternal aunt, who’d raised her as her own since her mother passed away, moved in to help with the children. Then Abdullah’s older sister Ayesha became convinced her mother loved her brother more. “I brought her for counselling with Dr Nandita,” Veenu explains. “Their relationship changed after that. They still fight and tease each other but can’t stay without each other either. Ayesha takes a lot of care of Abdullah”.
Abdullah attended mainstream school until Class 4 despite hating every moment of it. “The students, parents and teachers complained that he got hyper and flung his bag and books around. It was stressful for him,” Veenu recalls. At age 11, he met with an accident that left him bedridden for an extended period with a shattered femur. A life-changing decision seemed made for both mother and son. “Abdullah can read a little. He loves history but finds math, English and Konkani boring and refuses to learn. I didn’t think that kind of education was necessary for him. Nor did I want anyone to hurt my son or treat him as abnormal. I stopped sending him to school after the accident”.
At home, Abdullah discovered a gift for art and has since painted a few hundred works, from portraits to landscapes and still life in different media. “I like painting all sorts of things, especially from Indian history,” he says. “I love museums because they have beautiful paintings that give me ideas for my paintings. Here’s a painting I saw at a museum in Hyderabad,” he says, holding up a sketch of a medieval battle scene. A portrait of his favourite artist “Leo” finds pride of place in the collection, alongside The Last Supper and the Mona Lisa.
His more recent passion for cooking and baking has cast him as his mother’s favourite apprentice at the thriving catering business she runs from home. “I need money for Abdullah’s treatment so I started cooking small things. I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone. He said he wanted a job, that I should pay him. Now he makes 60 burgers a day and gets paid Rs 200 by evening. I’ve also taught him to make chocolates”.
Veenu attributes Abdullah’s progress to early intervention and intensive therapy. “Here in Goa, people hide their children if they have problems. They say the child is fine but the child gets worse without treatment. I know my son has problems but in many ways he’s better than a ‘normal’ child. For example, he never lies, ever. My advice to other parents who find their babies acting differently, if he can’t talk or read, is to act immediately, like I did with Abdullah. It makes a huge difference to their future. Today I’m happy with my job, my business, my children. I have no worries”.