He was two years old and had an intestinal illness that his biological parents could not —nor wanted to— afford. Mario Balotelli Barwuah, the son of Ghanaian immigrants born in Palermo, Italy, was handed over to social services while his blood family moved on with their lives. Francesco and Silvia Balotelli adopted him, gave him their surname and, with it, a second chance.
Mario grew up, and it turned out he was a genius with the ball. At 17, he made his debut for Inter Milan with contracts that catapulted him to worldwide fame. It was exactly at that moment —not before, nor during the years of misery— that his biological parents reappeared. They did it on public television, crying in front of the cameras, saying they missed him and demanding to return to his life.
Balotelli held nothing back: “If I weren’t a famous footballer, if I were a simple laborer, would they still want to be my parents? The answer is no. I only have one family: the one that took care of me. The others are only after my money”. A sentence that needs no explanation — and that forces you to ask yourself how many people silently carry this same burden.