May - Weekly Journal 2nd - 8th

Clean Hands Hope Centre Training

After receiving an order from Texas to cover Health Education for patients I rushed to meet the off ship co-ordinator. Timing was not of the essence because I discovered that the co-ordinator had other projects to attend to for the next few weeks. So I valiantly volunteered to perform the training myself. Besides this would give me hands on practice which is a perfect base to write from.

The topic recommended was ‘Cleaning Hands’ and maybe to use ‘flour’ as a prop for demonstrating transferring germs. I decided to prepare some laminated picture cards to show germs and how they can transfer from anything you touch into your food before showing how to clean hands.  Bassey, my loyal ally, was very excited about this new venture where he would need to teach the patients when translating into Krio language.

Upon arriving at the Hope Centre we spent a good fifteen collecting patients from various locations in the compound before training started. In front of me there was a massive plastic bowl filled with flour and an empty bowl with a few 2 litres bottle of water at the ready.  As I launched into each step Bassey wet his hands, dipped them in flour before walking amongst the patients shaking their hands, touching their arms and chairs leaving bright white flour fingerprints everywhere.  The patient crowd were delighted!  Things looked like they might get messy which the pikins found tremendously exciting.

As the teaching came to a close Bassey and I demonstrated the hand actions to wash hands and, of course, sung a verse of the Tenki song.  All the patients joined in without hesitation. This is one of the great strengths of the African people. If they hear anything remotely like a melody the African clapping rhythms kick in and suddenly there’s a chorus of joyful voices singing (although not always in tune!).

Now it was time for practical activity which, in itself, brought a healthy dose of fun into the mix. The patients were invited to come and splash their hands in water, dip them in a bowl of flour, follow a trail of coloured paper around the grounds to place their handprints on until they reached the garden tap.  Here is where Bassey was exuberantly singing whilst he helped them soap their hands and rub the now sticky dough mixture from their hands.

This was all wonderful except only the pikins with their caregivers joined in.  I encouraged all the adult patients to at least go and wash their hands with soap. They sat in silence. So, I used my best Krio and urged them to go and join in. They continued to ignore me despite my eventual pleas and the shouting and prodding from the day workers. The issue was that many had never washed their hands properly before so with such poor healthcare facilities and few medicines available the germs kill children usually through diarrhoea. This education, if applied, will save lives.

Suddenly I had a lightbulb flash idea. “Anyone who washes their hands can have a photo!” I boomed across the terrace.  The commotion was unbelievable! Thirty adults ran towards me and the bowl of flour. I will never forget the dread as I watched the crowd descend upon me.

Needless to say there was an impressive amount of white floured hands waving in the air before the adults huddled around the tap.  As they were washing their hands I then had the task of informing the Mercy Ships photographer that I had bribed the entire patient group with a photo. After aa raised eyebrow glare she turned and beamed “let’s have a group shot”, so she gathered all the patients again for a ‘snap snap’.  By now the fun had become infectious and all the team also wanted photos with floured white hands. So the fun continued. Good job done with the satisfaction that for the first time these vulnerable people were given knowledge to help protect their lives. 

Spiderman is Fictional: Spider Boy is Real

Spiderman climbs to places no-one else can and always investigates the goings-on in town. He is an awesome fictional hero. Now, I would like to introduce Spider Boy. He literally tip-toes around like a spider and is always on a path of discovery. He is a remarkable new pikin because he is real.  Here is a summary of his story:

Seven years ago beautiful baby Abdul was born into the world. The joy of his birth ended abruptly when his mother abandoned him.

Abdul was born with severely deformed legs. In most African societies this is understood to be an evil curse on the child. Without a mother to feed and nourish him his future survival looked bleak and hopeless.

In this tragic situation Abdul was left at the mercy of his father to fend for their lives. Despite the heart-break suffered and the tough challenges ahead, his father, Simeon, bravely poured his love on his baby son. He would determinedly fight against the odds.

Abdul flourished into a fine boy supported by his father’s relentless love. His father had great hopes for his future. After school, Abdul spent many hours chatting with his father to satisfy his inquisitive mind. It was during these times that Simeon strengthened his son’s hope. Abdul had dreams to become a doctor. These were precious moments uniting their love together.

One day they heard about Mercy Ships and Abdul was offered treatment to straighten his crippled legs. It has been a long painful treatment. Courageously, Simeon gave up everything to be constantly by Abdul’s side. His dedicated focus has raised his son’s confidence and brought shared laughter as Abdul learns to walk with straight legs for the first time in his life. “His faith has grown stronger and stronger forever” beams Abdul’s proud father. This journey has united their abundant love as they walk towards a bright future together.

He has been with Mercy Ships for a few weeks. It is only now I noticed this extraordinary character who displayed strong determination with a charismatic mischievousness. For those of you who know me….spiders are never tolerated anywhere in the vicinity of ‘me’. So when this incredible boy constantly scuttled across my path walking with 90 degree casted legs and crutches like a spider; there was a precious bond from his smile to mine otherwise I would have run a million miles in the opposite direction.

Cheshire Home Visit

Despite my hectic work schedule I had been drawn to join a Mercy Ministry. It would be a welcome change to help people with a prime focus to give everything in my heart; with no business writing. So I jumped at the opportunity to work with the Cheshire Home. They are a UK organisation who is sponsoring a school for children with polio. There are boarding quarters and for a handful of orphans this is also home.

Tiffany, (a clever, chic, mum), leads the ministry so we set off for a 15 minute walk to the school just beyond the dock. After half an hour of dodging container trucks skidding up mini dust tornados we were only just reaching the end of the dock. The sunshine is refreshingly wonderful with the exception of grimy dust sticking to every pore on your skin in the fierce humidity. The fun of the venture was rapidly fading.  “It’ll be safe and quiet when we leave the dock” Tiffany reassured me.

Upon leaving the dock there was a wide tree-lined road. It greeted us with satisfactory relief. Suddenly with a wild tooting we jumped onto the tree banks as two mega- lorries hurtled towards each other.  On reflection this was a dual of testosterone (I can find no other reason for the insanity of the driving). Shortly afterwards we were back on track and arriving at the school which was accessed through a bedraggled car mechanic yard.

As the gate creaked open there were a few squeals of delight. A couple of the children excitedly hobbled down the path to greet us. The landscape reminded me of Little House on the Prairie. It resembled a pretty farm yard with rustic buildings. There was a herd of goats including a month old kid which I found fascinating to follow in its random skips and leaps around the garden until the ram decided to angrily stomp the ground. The challenge wasn’t worth the risk; goats do have elements of unpredictability and silliness in their nature.  Of course there were an impressive amount of chickens and cockerels which cock-a-doodle-dood at regular intervals. In fact all the chickens really looked like healthy, well-fed, normal chickens.

We found the school leaders under the main school building weaving fabric. This was truly impressive. They had made primitive yarning machines and had threads stretched over at least fifteen metres. The fabric produced was black and white striped woollen weave from goat’s wool. The wooden weaving invention made a hollow clicking in a rhythmic beat that was therapeutically relaxing. After recovering from the stress of our journey it was time to visit the children.

  

First task was to help wash clothes at the well. The scrubbing board was missing so we were left to scrub by hand instead. After we started Tiffany was called to help a child so I continued to try and hand wash. It was more active than I had anticipated. To pump the water required the strength from both arms to force down the lever. Never-the-less I have to say that it was a fulfilling task. Eventually a young girl peeped out from behind a nearby van and after a few giggles approached me in a veil of shyness.

She decided to take photos of me washing whilst chattering away about the school and her friends there. She touched me with her shy sweetness despite falling with my camera in her hand! After hanging the washing, under her instruction, we met with some more of the children who lay on the terraced walkways to play a card memory game.

The most prevalent part of the experience was the revelation that these orphaned children valued all your efforts to spend time with them (of course they try to hide this at the time). To me it was a lovely time. To them it was a treasured time. When reflecting on this time I realised how special they felt for someone to sit and play their favourite game and just let them ‘be’. Suddenly it hit home how fulfilling these ministries are for everyone involved.