Hope amidst adversity: My day at a Turkana medical camp
Successful and sobering. Those are the words I used to describe what I saw on a recent one-day trip to the remote Turkana County. It was successful because that day the AMREF staff and volunteers at the medical camp were able to help many people affected by the drought. But, it was the harsh realities of the effects of the drought that made it sobering, and ultimately, depressing.
When we arrived at the Loitanik Primary School,the venue of the camp, we found hundreds of people, most of them sitting on the ground, close to each other, as if for support. The Turkana are a tall, proud and energetic people, but the crowd that waited for us was anything but energetic. In my mind is ingrained the image of old men sitting quite still, looking at us with expressionless faces, the contours of their ribs clearly outlined against the skin of their bare torsos. Men who are in normal times the breadwinners and decision makers in their families and communities were now at the mercy of others for the most basic of needs – food. Men who owned large herds of animals had lost their source of livelihood and pride. Faces that usually reflected dignity now carried vacant looks.
In the background, women lined up to get into the classrooms where consultation and treatment were going on. Nasistae Ejore brought in her son, Ejen. He was so emaciated that his legs were unable to support his tiny frame. At two years old, Ejen weighed less than 20 pounds. He occasionally coughed, weakly. When Ejore set him on the floor, a pool of watery diarrhea spread slowly around him. The DG gave Ejore a pack of bottles containing a nutrient-rich therapeutic drink for herself, and some ready-made baby food for Ejen. Then Kiragu, AMREF’s driver in Turkana, gently led Ejore out. He would drive her to the nearby Kaikor health center, so that Ejen could receive inpatient treatment.
A TV crew from NTV in Nairobi was also in Turkana that day, reporting about the current situation. |
Ejore walked out, an old woman, thin and bent over, was brought in, supported on either side by relatives. They sat her down on the floor with her back against the wall, next to other elderly women. Kenya Country Director. Dr Lennie Bazira gave her a bottle of the therapeutic drink. She took a sip and then put the lid back on. She was clearly famished, but refused to take any more. Asked why she wouldn’t drink it, she said she was saving the rest for later. It was only when she was assured that she would get a whole pack that she agreed to drink some more.
The camp was very busy. The health personnel immunized babies, gave out medication, showed mothers how to give their babies the therapeutic foods, and taught them how to use the water purifying tablets. Corn was also distributed, and as the day wore on, the mood slowly began to change. There was more conversation among the women, sometimes even, a brief smile.
When we got back to Nairobi that evening, I felt guilty – guilty when I served up my dinner, and guilty when I got into my warm bed. When I thought of the old Turkana men and women, my mind started asking: Why should they go hungry? Why should a two-year-old like Ejen suffer so much, or his mother be forced to carry so heavy a burden?
The following morning, I felt that I should go right back to Turkana to do something, anything, to ease the anguish of the people there. But what could I do – buy five sacks of corn and board the next bus up north? Reason slowly dawned: The hard-working AMREF team in Turkana has the medical camps under control. My role is to tell stories, the stories of the people suffering from the drought and the people helping them, so that the public not in the region can understand what is happening during this crisis and that their support can make a difference. I may not be the one that examines the mothers or vaccinates the babies, but what I am doing is for them too.
>> Hear from Dr. Lennia Bazira, Country Director of AMREF Kenya about our work in Turkana
