New! Pikin Treasures Lilie & Junior
There I am in the Hope Centre hounded by a group of triumphant casted legs ortho children who had thought it a great achievement to throw down their crutches, scramble over before hanging off my clothes to balance whilst pleading to be picked up. This inevitably ends up in a few scoobydoo scrappydoo fights along the way and Me shouting ‘Oi!’ every time I see a punch flying out the corner of my eye. With a few cheeky diverts I managed to wriggle free to go and find Bassey.
As I approached the terrace Bassey appeared hand-in-hand with a beautiful little girl: “Look who I found Clara.” She stood motionless with her arms straight by her sides like a soldier. Nothing registered in her expressions. She just stood and stared ahead. As I talked softly to her Bassey took her hand to put it in mine. Her hand rapidly withdrew in horror and fear of touching the white man.
“Here we go again” I thought. Sometimes overcoming the white skin intolerance is a hurdle almost impossible to overcome. I turned away weary from the severity of my rejection. Then, in one last attempt I turned round, held my arms out towards her saying, “Come, come”.
To my complete surprise she fell forward in her soldier stance right into my arms. From the moment I caught her she wrapped herself around me in a deep cuddle; even tucking her head into my neck. Needless to say, I stood bewildered by the sequence of her reactions.
Upon finding her mama I discovered that this was four year old Lilie Konteh. She had suffered severe burns a year ago after falling into a pot of boiling water. Her entire arm and torso on the right side of her body was scarred and the skin on the upper arm and torso had fused leaving her with only her hand functioning.
Whilst in my arms Lilie relaxed into a close cuddle which, considering we were strangers, I found immensely trusting. Her mama was astonished by the drastic change in Lilie. She was usually extrovert and cheeky. This began to concern me. Later on I discovered that Lilie was so ashamed of her skin, in colour and condition, that she gave me the only thing she could; her love. This revelation was choking in its tragic sadness.
Soon after the cuddling episode I became aware of a great twist in Lilie’s story. She had a brother friend called Junior Lamboy who also had an appointment with Mercy Ships. Junior is a sweet little five year old boy. He also has a burnt hand from falling into a frying pan on the fire. The mamas had met in a supermarket at home a year ago and united in the strongest of friendships.
New! Pikin Treasure Hawanatu
Just as I strolled up the dock to the Gangway I caught a sight that captured my heart with a smile. A Mama was lifting her tiny daughter up in the air whilst her daughter squealed with delight. There was such joy and banter between them. Hawanatu Jalloh is two years old. She burnt her feet walking over hot charcoals in the ground. Often the cooking is done on a fire in the ground. When the cooking is finished the burning charcoals are covered with dirt to keep the heat until the fire is needed again. There is nothing visible to indicate the fire burning under the ground. Church Leaders Conference
There is nothing like an early start in Freetown before the humid trash smog sets in. Within a few minutes we had jumped into a taxi with no other hanger on passengers, which incidentally is highly unusual.
Upon arrival I was a little disappointed with a notably shabby hotel although this is a realistic environment in Freetown I had a flicker of hope of somewhere with a little more hygieneJ. It’s the sort of place you hold your nose and pray, regardless of faith or religion, that you will survive the one minute ‘to go and relief yourself’ whilst doing an incredible contortionist act to avoid touching literally ANYTHING! Followed by showering in antibacterial gel with crazed lunatic gestures from the mere thought of entering such an environment, (in case you’re not on top form I’m referring to the toilet).
Settling into the conference I sat at the back ready to yawn or doze at the first opportunity. Well, honestly, a church leaders conference is not the most motivating of topics to cover (Texas requested an article). As I listened I became drawn into the content. This was no ordinary church talk. The expectation was a crazed bible bashing yet the approach and tones of the speaker was engaging; in fact astoundingly sane and with a profound meaning.
After absorbing the content I found myself respecting their approach with great hope. The speaker was Chris Ampadu, an African man with a successful business background. He taught the Samaritan Strategy. (Readers at this point, please, stop your wave of complacency). The message is simple. The church needs to learn to offer unconditional love to local communities. Unconditional love translates to helping and doing things to support the communities e.g. children’s crèches, filling potholes in the road, picking up litter. These are basic infrastructures, facilities and services in developed countries that are provided as a requirement.
In Sierra Leone, barely any basic facilities are present. The reason the teaching is profound is because it is a new concept against the grain of the current African mindset. It teaches the benefits of time management, work and development trough love. If all the churches initiated small basic projects to help their communities the nation would be on the brink of transformation. Change needs to start somewhere so instead of people praying in church on Sunday and doing nothing. The people of the church can lead the way through example. The most crucial point was that it was highlighted that no preaching should occur when doing work to help the communities. The communities will be free to investigate the reason the church is helping them if they choose to. Now that’s really quite remarkable!
Namina Returns Home
‘The’ day arrived. There was no warning. A phone call. Just a phone call to advise she was being discharged. My mind was racing. This was not meant to happen at this time. There had been no planning or preparation. This was one of the challenging moments that you’ve received hundred warnings about yet when it happens you have no idea it’s happening.
The world was flashing by as I rushed to Outpatients. Gasping for breath and reeling in this sudden departure I noted immediately that Namina was in fine form. She was creating usual havoc by spinning around on the nurses stools with legs flailing kicking everything and everyone in sight. The room was filled with noisy chatter and the somewhat constant 'Namina!' in various tones and accents.
Then Dan the Nurse appeared. The disco music flared up and he gestured to Namina to take to the dancefloor in the crowded waiting area. She performed to the crowd with confidence and relished every moment of the attention. Her now chunkier body with an eyeraising big belly rocked and writhed with admirable rhythm, especially for a recently traumatised little girl.
This was the moment the final dressing was removed to reveal her healed face in all its glory. The minimal scarring was impressive despite her drooping eye. Namina was also suitably impressed, holding up the mirror to admire her enhanced face. "Namina, you look fine", "oh yes! So fine!", "Aha! Beautiful girl"....and so the adoring compliments came flooding in whilst Namina sat grumpily pouting in secret appreciation on the chair. Sometimes she really is impossible!
It was time for her departure back to the Hope Centre for a night before going home. Retrieving media footage only increased the pressure and stress of this situation. As we reached the dockside Namina began to run across the dock. So I yelled and yelled and insisted she came back to join us.
This was far from the calm loving departures of other treasured pikins.
After a successful photo shoot involving Namina climbing into a Mercy Ships truck I was made aware I had seconds to bide my farewells. Panic hung heavily in the air. Wara gripped my hands, stared deep into eyes and whispered "Clara! I go home?" She was overcome by anxiety and struggled to say more but the words clung to her throat. I focused on those deeply fearful eyes. All the life challenges to survive at home were hauntingly clear. There was nothing more to do than a brief hug. Then I walked, waved and continued walking without looking back.
Imagine an ice cold bucket of water thrown over your head. Out of nowhere the tidal wave of sadness drenched my heart and so the sobbing began. Hopelessness prevailed.
Rains
This is the first week the rains have started. Only at night but the trash problem is now at an excruciating level. Divers go down twice daily into the heavily polluted water to remove rubbish getting caught in the inlets for the cooling system. The undercurrents are extremely powerful. If any of the divers let go of the safety rope they would be pounded against the barnacled rusting dock wall. Visibility is very low so each and every journey is is a life risking venture.
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