Yesterday Morie came to me very disturbed and visibly upset. We have been waiting for his wife to go into labor for sometime now. You have to understand that an exact due date is not given here so we start waiting for the baby probably long before the baby is truly ready to be born and continue to wait if the baby is actually late, so to me it seems we have been waiting for this little one long enough.
It turns out Jenna had gone into labor the day before and was still in hard labor and the mid-wife said the baby had turned. Jenna would need to go to the hospital if she was going to deliver this baby and have both of them be alright. Well the problem here is for most people they are not able to even get to the hospital and if they do many don't have the money to pay for what they would need. Well once again we were thanking God for the red jeep. Morie and I jumped into the jeep- went to get Jenna, her mom, and a couple aunts and we headed to Gondama. This is the same hospital that my little Sallay spent time in and is a hospital staffed by doctors without borders as well as native Sierra Leonians. It is a distance from town, but they are well equipt and qualified as well as the amazing blessing that it is a free hospital.
I admit that the ride out was one filled with anxiety. Most were in tears or close to it and poor Jenna was crammed African style into the back of the jeep, deep in labor that was not going well, driving on our bumpy African roads. We went straight past the clinic to the hospital. My pumoi skin helped us drive right into the gate and to the maternity ward. Aunty Agatha happened to be working. She has been a good friend to JCC as well as to me and it was a welcome sight for me to see her and know we were not only in good hands but the hands of someone I trusted and who cared about us as her family. Jenna was taken into an area they use for delivery as well as where they could do C-sections. I was allowed- and asked by the family- to stay with Jenna while Morie and the women had to wait outside. Aunty Agatha tried to listen to the baby's heart beat and though it was hard to hear it was there and what a welcome relief that was. She felt around a bit and called for an ultra sound. I am sure this machine is a few models behind but it did the job. They could tell right away that the baby's heart rate was dropping. As we were watching and discussing this one of the foreign doctors came in. She was able to assess the situation quite quickly and said that we would give Jenna 10-15 minutes and then they would take the baby by C-section.
Just as the doctor came to prep Jenna for a C, Aunty Agatha was able to turn the baby enough so that Jenna could try pushing again. It was difficult and they had to help her quite a bit- but shortly after 2:45 this precious little girl joined us here. It was amazing to watch- and also a bit difficult to see Jenna struggle as she did. I had to turn away when Aunty Agatha had to cut Jenna to get the baby out faster- but was able to turn back in time to see the little one come out. However my breath did not come for awhile as she made no sound and was quite still. The foreign doctor took her and started working on her- suctioning, giving oxygen, rubbing her- after a short time (that felt like forever) I could see her move and see her breathing, but she was still very quiet. Finally she cried just a bit and they did what they needed to to get her cleaned up, weighed, examined and what not- and then they gave her to me. Poor Jenna was still being stitched up, but I was able to take her daughter over to her, hold her close to her and put her on her stomach. I knew enough Mende to tell her her daughter was beautiful, she did a good job, and now her work was finished. (well at least that part- right). Then I was so honored to be able to bring this little girl out to the rest of her family. Morie was scared to hold her- his first child- and a little girl on top of that, but he did. Of course grandma and the aunties happily took their turn.
As I went back in Aunty Agatha asked me if I was taking them home with me- WHAT?!?! Shouldn't they stay here? She said if they could find a bed she could stay for the night if that was what we wanted- um yes I think at least 12 hours would be good. We got them all settled in, Jenna, her mom, and the little girl- who for the time being they are calling Christie. Morie came back to get some more things and was able to go spend the rest of the evening with them. Come 10am this morning he was here on the compound again ready for us to go back and get them. They were waiting outside when we pulled up. Jenna was all smiles and walking around much better than I would have ever expected- she climbed up into the jeep- which is not easy on a good day- sat through the bumps once again and was still smiling when we pulled up to her house (after she directed me to drive down what is not even a bush road, but a bush path that I was not sure my little red jeep was cut out for- but she did just fine)
What a joy it was to be a part of this whole situation. It is not easy and to think that if we were not able to get Jenna and Little Christie to the hospital- the doctors say within another hour or so we would have lost the baby and who knows how much longer Jenna could have made it. If Jenna would have gone into labor a little over a week ago- the jeep would not have been around. To rent a car is not cheap and something Morie and his family did not have money for. It was such a simple thing for me- and look what I was able to be a part of. I was there the moment this little one came into the world and was the first "family member" to hold her.
I can tell you without a doubt the ride home was the complete opposite from the ride there. Smiles and laughter. Joy and peace.
Jenna lives next door to my friend Kaddie. As we pulled in to the house, Kaddie was there- with a big smile on her face. She was here to welcome her friend and her daughter home and she did it with joy.
Though I am thankful to have had this experience I will say that I would like to leave the midwife stuff to my friend Kayla- I will stick to what other odd jobs I have been doing around here.
On a side note- football (soccer) season has started again and my team has started with three GREAT wins. Yes I have heard all the football news from over there as well- and I would like to leave that one topic alone. I have been able to keep up a bit with my beloved Packers and look forward to a great season as well.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Friends or Enemies
I think right now we are friends but...
With the help of my new friends (also known as AAA) as well as some of my supporters I was able to fix up the red jeep that we have here at JH. We haven't had a working vehicle around for the past 5-6 weeks or so and especially with the rainy season it has been a bit difficult. So my buddies were able to get me a new engine for the jeep and fix it up for me. The even did a lot of little things to make it nicer for me- put in a new window in place of the broken passenger side window. Fixed the really hard to turn on windshield wiper button. Fixed the door handle so you no longer have to roll down the window to open the door to get out. They really took good care of me.
Even though this is a little 4 passenger jeep wrangler we have made good use of it African style in the last two days. Sunday we took some of the kids to their aunts, uncles, grandparents and what not to stay for a few days- good to see their families and spend time outside the orphanage. When drooping them off we took one load with 8 of us and one load with 7. Now we only had 2 adults and mostly the middle kids. Today we went to town with 9 of us and the youngest one being Jerry who is like a little American football player. We were packed in there. We hauled home 4 large bags of rice along with other food for the home and through it all the jeep has treated us well.
However if you remember from the last time I was here- the jeep and I have had a few rough times. First the jeep wanted to work when it did and just not work when it didn't- no real reason. Then the key switch liked to stick- so each time you turned the jeep off you were not sure you would be able to turn it one again. We couldn't find the horn and after being here you will understand how important it is for communicating while driving. With few traffic rules you need a way to make your presence known- for safety's sake. Aunty Mary and I had a few laughs yelling BEEP, BEEP while driving through Bo.
While my dad and sisters were here- Amy, Kari, Aunty Mary and I went to town one day. We were so proud of ourselves and how quickly we got in and out of the market and headed home. We made one more stop in New London to get some bread- at the same place we always do. I pulled over and parked between two other cars (with a few more cars in front and behind them) as we are there two Road Authority people on honda's pull up and block us in. (Road Authority is different than the police but...) They proceed to tell us we cannot park here- though others have so many times in the past and there are people all around us- we not only get a ticket- but they want to escort us to the Road Authority place. Aunty Mary is telling me to run away and Joe is on the phone saying the same thing- well I have a STRONG conscience and running from the police is just not something I am capable of- and it is not like it would be hard to find the one white girl driving the red jeep with Jonathan's House written on both sides. So I decide we will just go and pay the ticket and move on.
On the way there the escorts leave us so with Aunty Mary in the car and Joe still on the phone telling me to leave- I decide that I will go back to the home and let Joe deal with it- so we go to turn around outside the road authority and the jeep breaks down. We have trouble turning the key- then we get it turned but it won't start. No- many times over the previous week we had to push start the jeep- so here we are on a bit of a pot-hole filled road, going around a corner and up hill and we have Aunty Mary, Amy and Kari to push the jeep. (Mind you first I did what any American daughter in Africa would do- I called my dad. Good thing he was also in Africa and just like I knew he would- he said he was on his way)
So now here we are- 4 girls trying to outrun the cops by pushing our vehicle on foot- who comes to help us, but the same people who were escorting us there- they had come back. So now they do help us get the jeep running but then they continue to push it right through the Road Authority gate. So now we are just going to pay the ticket- however the jeep will not idle so to keep it running I need to stay in it- and Aunty Mary says there is no way she is paying that ticket- we shouldn't have gotten one and she is not going to be part of this. Kari can't go in by herself- she doesn't know enough Mende or Krio- finally we get Aunty Mary to go in but she doesn't talk to me the rest of the way home. Dad arrives and I make him drive home- I am done with this. But by the time we pull into the compound we are all laughing and taking photos with the ticket.
Not long after Joe had the jeep pulling a load of wood home and the switch finally gave out for the last time- he couldn't do anything to make it turn. So taking out the key switch completely and installing a wire you had to pull to turn the jeep on (yup that makes it pretty hard to steal the jeep) was done. Now we were in business again- until it started BURNING fuel- it took one gallon to get the 3 miles to town. I was not rich enough to drive the jeep anymore- so we finally parked it and that is where it sat for the past year.
This Saturday I got the jeep back again and so far she has treated me quite well. I do hope that we will remain on good terms for a while longer.
With the help of my new friends (also known as AAA) as well as some of my supporters I was able to fix up the red jeep that we have here at JH. We haven't had a working vehicle around for the past 5-6 weeks or so and especially with the rainy season it has been a bit difficult. So my buddies were able to get me a new engine for the jeep and fix it up for me. The even did a lot of little things to make it nicer for me- put in a new window in place of the broken passenger side window. Fixed the really hard to turn on windshield wiper button. Fixed the door handle so you no longer have to roll down the window to open the door to get out. They really took good care of me.
Even though this is a little 4 passenger jeep wrangler we have made good use of it African style in the last two days. Sunday we took some of the kids to their aunts, uncles, grandparents and what not to stay for a few days- good to see their families and spend time outside the orphanage. When drooping them off we took one load with 8 of us and one load with 7. Now we only had 2 adults and mostly the middle kids. Today we went to town with 9 of us and the youngest one being Jerry who is like a little American football player. We were packed in there. We hauled home 4 large bags of rice along with other food for the home and through it all the jeep has treated us well.
However if you remember from the last time I was here- the jeep and I have had a few rough times. First the jeep wanted to work when it did and just not work when it didn't- no real reason. Then the key switch liked to stick- so each time you turned the jeep off you were not sure you would be able to turn it one again. We couldn't find the horn and after being here you will understand how important it is for communicating while driving. With few traffic rules you need a way to make your presence known- for safety's sake. Aunty Mary and I had a few laughs yelling BEEP, BEEP while driving through Bo.
While my dad and sisters were here- Amy, Kari, Aunty Mary and I went to town one day. We were so proud of ourselves and how quickly we got in and out of the market and headed home. We made one more stop in New London to get some bread- at the same place we always do. I pulled over and parked between two other cars (with a few more cars in front and behind them) as we are there two Road Authority people on honda's pull up and block us in. (Road Authority is different than the police but...) They proceed to tell us we cannot park here- though others have so many times in the past and there are people all around us- we not only get a ticket- but they want to escort us to the Road Authority place. Aunty Mary is telling me to run away and Joe is on the phone saying the same thing- well I have a STRONG conscience and running from the police is just not something I am capable of- and it is not like it would be hard to find the one white girl driving the red jeep with Jonathan's House written on both sides. So I decide we will just go and pay the ticket and move on.
On the way there the escorts leave us so with Aunty Mary in the car and Joe still on the phone telling me to leave- I decide that I will go back to the home and let Joe deal with it- so we go to turn around outside the road authority and the jeep breaks down. We have trouble turning the key- then we get it turned but it won't start. No- many times over the previous week we had to push start the jeep- so here we are on a bit of a pot-hole filled road, going around a corner and up hill and we have Aunty Mary, Amy and Kari to push the jeep. (Mind you first I did what any American daughter in Africa would do- I called my dad. Good thing he was also in Africa and just like I knew he would- he said he was on his way)
So now here we are- 4 girls trying to outrun the cops by pushing our vehicle on foot- who comes to help us, but the same people who were escorting us there- they had come back. So now they do help us get the jeep running but then they continue to push it right through the Road Authority gate. So now we are just going to pay the ticket- however the jeep will not idle so to keep it running I need to stay in it- and Aunty Mary says there is no way she is paying that ticket- we shouldn't have gotten one and she is not going to be part of this. Kari can't go in by herself- she doesn't know enough Mende or Krio- finally we get Aunty Mary to go in but she doesn't talk to me the rest of the way home. Dad arrives and I make him drive home- I am done with this. But by the time we pull into the compound we are all laughing and taking photos with the ticket.
Not long after Joe had the jeep pulling a load of wood home and the switch finally gave out for the last time- he couldn't do anything to make it turn. So taking out the key switch completely and installing a wire you had to pull to turn the jeep on (yup that makes it pretty hard to steal the jeep) was done. Now we were in business again- until it started BURNING fuel- it took one gallon to get the 3 miles to town. I was not rich enough to drive the jeep anymore- so we finally parked it and that is where it sat for the past year.
This Saturday I got the jeep back again and so far she has treated me quite well. I do hope that we will remain on good terms for a while longer.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Becoming a little too African
So I am sitting her with my brown fleece on. I am not even sure what the temperature is outside, but last night I had to close all the windows to the hut and where my long sleeve shirt and pants and cuddle up in my blanket all night. I think it is in the lower 70s. Yup I might have adjusted a little too much. :)
It is a small (or large) blessing that I am very thankful for. I am sure there are going to be days where I am beastly hot and ready to be done with the sun- but for all the other things I have had to adjust to- I am glad that the weather has really not been difficult for me. I am sure when I come home it will be even harder to adjust but...
Thanks for all your prayers for Kaddie. She really is doing a lot better than I would be and yet I do believe that God gives you the strength you need when you need it. I have visited her each day but was not able to go on Saturday- well Sunday morning I found her outside my door- just checking ON ME. I do love her.
I will admit to having some stretching, difficult moments these past few weeks. I am so thankful that through it I have not questioned whether I should be here- I do feel I should, but I will admit to not feeling as strong as I could be- or feeling a bit drained at times. But then something will happen- some kids will come along and touch me where I need it, I will be listening to my gramp's tapes and hearing how he had difficult times and persevered through it, a friend will visit, family will call- I know God is meeting me in those times and that He never said it would be easy but that He will always be here with me.
I'll try to get back on here soon with more of an update- until then let me just share a quick moment this Saturday with our Street Kids. We had a quick event with the kids in the street kids program and when it was finished and the kids were free to go home they decided that they wanted to have a time of worship and prayer. All on their own they initiated it, led it, and meant it. I was honored and blessed to be a part of their group this weekend. They are growing into some fine young men and women. This was one of those moments that pulled me back and refocused me. God is good.
It is a small (or large) blessing that I am very thankful for. I am sure there are going to be days where I am beastly hot and ready to be done with the sun- but for all the other things I have had to adjust to- I am glad that the weather has really not been difficult for me. I am sure when I come home it will be even harder to adjust but...
Thanks for all your prayers for Kaddie. She really is doing a lot better than I would be and yet I do believe that God gives you the strength you need when you need it. I have visited her each day but was not able to go on Saturday- well Sunday morning I found her outside my door- just checking ON ME. I do love her.
I will admit to having some stretching, difficult moments these past few weeks. I am so thankful that through it I have not questioned whether I should be here- I do feel I should, but I will admit to not feeling as strong as I could be- or feeling a bit drained at times. But then something will happen- some kids will come along and touch me where I need it, I will be listening to my gramp's tapes and hearing how he had difficult times and persevered through it, a friend will visit, family will call- I know God is meeting me in those times and that He never said it would be easy but that He will always be here with me.
I'll try to get back on here soon with more of an update- until then let me just share a quick moment this Saturday with our Street Kids. We had a quick event with the kids in the street kids program and when it was finished and the kids were free to go home they decided that they wanted to have a time of worship and prayer. All on their own they initiated it, led it, and meant it. I was honored and blessed to be a part of their group this weekend. They are growing into some fine young men and women. This was one of those moments that pulled me back and refocused me. God is good.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
I am not sure where to start. I have been meaning to get on here and blog- and yet this is far from the post I had expected to write. So I will just start.
While here last time I met a girl named Kaddie. She came to my rescue one Sunday. Pst. Ibrahim, Aunty Mary, and I were walking to church when my sandal broke- now we walk a lot here and trying to drag my sandal along was not going to get me very far. I talked about just going back and having them go on without me when Kaddie (at this point just the girl on the road where we had stopped) offered to go into her house and borrow me a pair of her shoes. So even though they were a touch small- we were able to continue on our way to church. Later that day I brought back her sandals along with some of my Chrystal light juice packs- everyone here seems to love them. We introduced ourselves for real this time and the friendship just grew. Kaddie is probably 19-21 yrs old. At times she is very mature and others... She is still learning and growing. She has blessed me often- cooking food for me, bringing me jewelry and shoes. So often here people ask and ask of you, but Kaddie has always been quick to give to me as well. While my family was here she went for a long walk with us (not a favorite thing for people here to do- walk just for walking's sake) as well as cooked a meal for our whole team. I think it was the first African food that my dad and family ate and actually really liked. The next time he saw cassava he was quick to try it again. I will admit that she does not like sharing me so much, but we have been working on that and I think she has come a long way. When I left last year she came to see me as I was packing, but as Karen and Mark can tell you she spent most of her time pouting and not knowing how to deal with my leaving. But she loves me and I love her- showing it is just not always easy for everyone.
I was able to send Kaddie a couple letters while I was away but she has no phone and contact was very limited. I arrived back to find that Kaddie was pregnant. I admit that this was not easy for me to take in. Kaddie is not married, hasn't finished her education, and is young in so many ways. She and her mom stay in a mud hut that is just two rooms. In Kaddie's room the bed takes up all but two feet. The walls touch the bed on three sides and at the end there is just enough space to walk and keep a few items. They don't have much- but her mom does try.
I asked about the baby's father. Where was he? Was he still involved? How did she feel about it all? The dad was in the village but she felt that he would be involved. It turns out she was pregnant before I left (though she didn't know it at the time- could have contributed to her extreme moodiness before I left) the dad had been around now and then but not with any consistency. She like many women I think had a lot of hope for what could be, but I am not sure the man was ever on the same page. About one week after I arrived- Kaddie's older brother passed away. I did not see Kaddie for a couple weeks as there is much tradition involved in events like this. She stayed where he had been staying- then they have the burial, a three days after service, a 7 days service and eventually a 40 days. Not long after she came back she gave birth to a baby boy. I happened to be in Freetown when she delivered but I was able to get a cute little baby outfit there and visit her shortly after returning. Her son was just 2 days old and they all joked that he was my son- as his skin was still light. He had a full head of curly jet black hair and he was TINY. Kaddie was so pleased. I visited as often as possible over the next few weeks. I asked her what she thought about being a mom- without hesitation she would reply, "I love it." Does he sleep at night I asked- "not too often." Are you tired? "yes" So how do you feel? "I am fine, when he is awake at night we listen to the radio and I sing to him. I like being his mom."
It is part of custom here (not all follow it but many do) that the baby is not named right away and if the child is a boy then usually the father will give the child a name. I knew that naming did not happen right away but over the next few weeks as I would ask if he had a name yet Kaddie would reply that his father had not come yet. I eventually stopped asking too often. We were able to go to church together one Sunday- I held him all through service and then carried him the 1 1/2 mile home. He was so light I didn't even feel him. All the way people would smile and admire him- asking if he was my piken (child). "No he is my friend Kaddie's." and she would smile bright. Even after he was born Kaddie found time to cook my favorite African sauce and bring it to me. I missed seeing her that day, but I carried her basket back to her- on my head the whole way with no hands. This past Tuesday Kaddie sent word that she was going to be coming to spend the day with me but when she didn't show I went to see her Wednesday. She was staying at her aunt's house not too far away because her son had a cold. Everyone on the road knows of our friendship so I didn't even make it to her house before I knew she was in Kandeh Town. So we headed there. Fatmatah and Mabel had come with me and by the time we arrived he was doing much better and he and Kaddie were going to head back home. Over the next few days he was doing fine and Kaddie even thought he was eating more and growing more than he had been.
This morning as the cooks arrived on the compound they brought news to me that this morning Kaddie's pikien had passed away. Wait- that's not right. I saw her Saturday walking on the road with her child. He was awake and alert and she was happy as could be- are you sure? I gathered my things and walked with Fatamta to Kaddie's house. I met her at our friend Felix's and just walked up and put my arms around her. She cried and cried- and all I could say was I'm sorry, I'm so sorry and pray. She said he hadn't been ill- no fever, no cough. He just died. We headed back to her house- the two room mud hut. Outside were many neighbors and family members. Inside her mom and aunts were with the baby. Here it is different. The family prepares the body and the burial happens the same day- unless you have money. Well here that is not the case. So they washed him and wrapped him. They prayed over him and cried. Kaddie would go silent and drift away and then just break down crying. She would often come and sit near me. Many would come and say sorry- and the usual "Hush yeah" but they would always want to add- "don't cry Kaddie. This is God's plan." or "God works all things together for the good of those who love him." or "Don't cry Kaddie- God will bless you with more children." I held her and said it is okay to cry and be upset. Jesus cried and it is also written that there is a time to grieve. God knows your pain and it is perfectly alright to feel it and let it out. It is true that he is in this. He knew this would happen and he will be with you through it all, but you can also cry to him, you can miss your baby boy and even if you have more children- God chose you to be this precious boy's mom- he chose you to love him and you did just that. He is your son and always will be and you can cry all you want.
It was so painful to watch. When they were finally ready Kaddie went in with them and finally let go. She wailed and you could almost feel her pain physically. They told her it was time to go and tried to take him from her- she just couldn't let him go. When they did she just collapsed on the floor. She didn't want to go bury her son. She didn't want to go leave him there. Most of the men had gone ahead to the cemetery, the women stood watching- most of them crying with her, but no one going to her. I was so proud of my Fatty- she walked passed all these grown women right to Kaddie- no fear and no hesitation. She put her arms around Kaddie and held her for a moment. I walked in with them both and together we helped Kaddie up. Fatty got her clothes and helped dress her all the while gently encouraging her. I don't know what she was saying as she spoke in Mende- but you could see Kaddie responding and feel what Fatty was saying without even knowing the words. The three of us walked together- Fatty and I holding Kaddie- all with tears streaming down our faces. In front of us a girl walked with a bath on her head- it is a thick plastic bowl type thing that we launder in or sometimes use for cooking. This was a small bath and inside was Kaddie's boy. This is how we got to the cemetery. All walking together with Kaddie's "sister" carrying her piken on her head. It was not a short walk. We crossed 5 wooden tree bridges and walked two different gravel roads. We finally came to a place where the men were waiting. I learned here from Kaddie that the man in the yellow shirt was the father. He had arrived at the home just shortly before we left for the cemetery on his honda. He didn't say a whole lot and didn't even go near Kaddie but I had heard everyone calling her when he arrived. It was not at all who I thought it would be. He looked as though he was in his 30's and not early 30's. He son still did not have a name- and I wonder now if he will. But at the same time being known as Kaddie's piken is not a bad thing. We all know how much she loves him.
We all gathered together and turned and walked into the bush. Along the way I saw mounds of dirt and realized that we were already here and all of these were the burial plots. We walked to the back and they started digging. All around us were very small mounds- all little children. Some of the guys went back to get some large sticks while another started digging. After the small hole was about 3-4 ft deep he stopped. They cut the sticks and gathered a pile of branches. We gathered around while Kaddie's uncle began to pray. Her small boy was taken from the bath- wrapped in his white cloth and placed in the ground on top of a bed of leaves. They so carefully placed the branches over him so that he would be protected and then filled the place with more branches. Then Kaddie was called upon to push in the first dirt. She was to sit down and use her waist to push it in. Watching this mother- and friend so dear to me- have to go through this... After this- we the women walked out while the men finished. Kaddie collapsed as soon as we stepped out of the bush- her mother was having just as difficult of a time- and we still had to walk the couple miles home. All of this happened within hours of her son's death. As we walked she looked at me and said with such question in her eyes- "Christie, my body aches all over- why?" Oh Kaddie- you are going to feel it.
We brought her home to bed and then went back to JCC. I wanted to get her some things as well as give them the half bag of rice the One-by-One team had left. They had left this bag of rice and told me to give it to someone who needs it. I had been waiting for that time and I think this is the time. When someone dies- everyone comes to you and often you are expected to feed them. Even if this was not the case- Kaddie and her mom shouldn't have to worry about where their next meal is going to come from at this time. After a few hours- Aunty Mary, Fatmata, and I (along with little Sallay on my back) headed to Kaddie's with Jerry and the bag of rice on his head. We arrived to find Kaddie just sitting out front without her shirt on staring off as milk dripped from her. I do realize this is not what everyone wants to read and yet it is such a part of what she is going through. She had slept only to wake reaching for her boy and find him not there. Wanting to nurse both emotionally as well as physically NEEDING to nurse. Again I just sat with her. Praying. I had received some advice on how to help her in this area- and shared it with her mother as well as give her some advil- but...
I will continue to go to Kaddie and continue to ask God for wisdom for me and comfort for her. We will cry together and we will remember Kaddie's piken together. For all my hesitations about Kaddie being pregnant she was a wonderful mom who loved her boy with all that she was.
It is a stark reminder of how difficult things can be here. When I left Sierra Leone last time I had 6 friends who were pregnant. One died while I was gone. Another girl who lives near Kaddie gave birth to a baby boy who is now 4 months old. My friend Christiana's baby was still born. Emmanuel's baby is now 3 months. And another friend gave birth to twins- but she and one baby died. 6 mothers- 7 babies. 4 mothers are still alive and only 2 babies. Our driver Willie had a boy who was 5 months old when I left- he passed away 3 months before I returned I read that Sierra Leone was the worse place on Earth to give birth as well as having one of the highest child mortality rates- but to actually experience it...
My young friend Marion is pregnant now- my prayers have increased.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/17/opinion/17kristof.html?_r=1
While here last time I met a girl named Kaddie. She came to my rescue one Sunday. Pst. Ibrahim, Aunty Mary, and I were walking to church when my sandal broke- now we walk a lot here and trying to drag my sandal along was not going to get me very far. I talked about just going back and having them go on without me when Kaddie (at this point just the girl on the road where we had stopped) offered to go into her house and borrow me a pair of her shoes. So even though they were a touch small- we were able to continue on our way to church. Later that day I brought back her sandals along with some of my Chrystal light juice packs- everyone here seems to love them. We introduced ourselves for real this time and the friendship just grew. Kaddie is probably 19-21 yrs old. At times she is very mature and others... She is still learning and growing. She has blessed me often- cooking food for me, bringing me jewelry and shoes. So often here people ask and ask of you, but Kaddie has always been quick to give to me as well. While my family was here she went for a long walk with us (not a favorite thing for people here to do- walk just for walking's sake) as well as cooked a meal for our whole team. I think it was the first African food that my dad and family ate and actually really liked. The next time he saw cassava he was quick to try it again. I will admit that she does not like sharing me so much, but we have been working on that and I think she has come a long way. When I left last year she came to see me as I was packing, but as Karen and Mark can tell you she spent most of her time pouting and not knowing how to deal with my leaving. But she loves me and I love her- showing it is just not always easy for everyone.
I was able to send Kaddie a couple letters while I was away but she has no phone and contact was very limited. I arrived back to find that Kaddie was pregnant. I admit that this was not easy for me to take in. Kaddie is not married, hasn't finished her education, and is young in so many ways. She and her mom stay in a mud hut that is just two rooms. In Kaddie's room the bed takes up all but two feet. The walls touch the bed on three sides and at the end there is just enough space to walk and keep a few items. They don't have much- but her mom does try.
I asked about the baby's father. Where was he? Was he still involved? How did she feel about it all? The dad was in the village but she felt that he would be involved. It turns out she was pregnant before I left (though she didn't know it at the time- could have contributed to her extreme moodiness before I left) the dad had been around now and then but not with any consistency. She like many women I think had a lot of hope for what could be, but I am not sure the man was ever on the same page. About one week after I arrived- Kaddie's older brother passed away. I did not see Kaddie for a couple weeks as there is much tradition involved in events like this. She stayed where he had been staying- then they have the burial, a three days after service, a 7 days service and eventually a 40 days. Not long after she came back she gave birth to a baby boy. I happened to be in Freetown when she delivered but I was able to get a cute little baby outfit there and visit her shortly after returning. Her son was just 2 days old and they all joked that he was my son- as his skin was still light. He had a full head of curly jet black hair and he was TINY. Kaddie was so pleased. I visited as often as possible over the next few weeks. I asked her what she thought about being a mom- without hesitation she would reply, "I love it." Does he sleep at night I asked- "not too often." Are you tired? "yes" So how do you feel? "I am fine, when he is awake at night we listen to the radio and I sing to him. I like being his mom."
It is part of custom here (not all follow it but many do) that the baby is not named right away and if the child is a boy then usually the father will give the child a name. I knew that naming did not happen right away but over the next few weeks as I would ask if he had a name yet Kaddie would reply that his father had not come yet. I eventually stopped asking too often. We were able to go to church together one Sunday- I held him all through service and then carried him the 1 1/2 mile home. He was so light I didn't even feel him. All the way people would smile and admire him- asking if he was my piken (child). "No he is my friend Kaddie's." and she would smile bright. Even after he was born Kaddie found time to cook my favorite African sauce and bring it to me. I missed seeing her that day, but I carried her basket back to her- on my head the whole way with no hands. This past Tuesday Kaddie sent word that she was going to be coming to spend the day with me but when she didn't show I went to see her Wednesday. She was staying at her aunt's house not too far away because her son had a cold. Everyone on the road knows of our friendship so I didn't even make it to her house before I knew she was in Kandeh Town. So we headed there. Fatmatah and Mabel had come with me and by the time we arrived he was doing much better and he and Kaddie were going to head back home. Over the next few days he was doing fine and Kaddie even thought he was eating more and growing more than he had been.
This morning as the cooks arrived on the compound they brought news to me that this morning Kaddie's pikien had passed away. Wait- that's not right. I saw her Saturday walking on the road with her child. He was awake and alert and she was happy as could be- are you sure? I gathered my things and walked with Fatamta to Kaddie's house. I met her at our friend Felix's and just walked up and put my arms around her. She cried and cried- and all I could say was I'm sorry, I'm so sorry and pray. She said he hadn't been ill- no fever, no cough. He just died. We headed back to her house- the two room mud hut. Outside were many neighbors and family members. Inside her mom and aunts were with the baby. Here it is different. The family prepares the body and the burial happens the same day- unless you have money. Well here that is not the case. So they washed him and wrapped him. They prayed over him and cried. Kaddie would go silent and drift away and then just break down crying. She would often come and sit near me. Many would come and say sorry- and the usual "Hush yeah" but they would always want to add- "don't cry Kaddie. This is God's plan." or "God works all things together for the good of those who love him." or "Don't cry Kaddie- God will bless you with more children." I held her and said it is okay to cry and be upset. Jesus cried and it is also written that there is a time to grieve. God knows your pain and it is perfectly alright to feel it and let it out. It is true that he is in this. He knew this would happen and he will be with you through it all, but you can also cry to him, you can miss your baby boy and even if you have more children- God chose you to be this precious boy's mom- he chose you to love him and you did just that. He is your son and always will be and you can cry all you want.
It was so painful to watch. When they were finally ready Kaddie went in with them and finally let go. She wailed and you could almost feel her pain physically. They told her it was time to go and tried to take him from her- she just couldn't let him go. When they did she just collapsed on the floor. She didn't want to go bury her son. She didn't want to go leave him there. Most of the men had gone ahead to the cemetery, the women stood watching- most of them crying with her, but no one going to her. I was so proud of my Fatty- she walked passed all these grown women right to Kaddie- no fear and no hesitation. She put her arms around Kaddie and held her for a moment. I walked in with them both and together we helped Kaddie up. Fatty got her clothes and helped dress her all the while gently encouraging her. I don't know what she was saying as she spoke in Mende- but you could see Kaddie responding and feel what Fatty was saying without even knowing the words. The three of us walked together- Fatty and I holding Kaddie- all with tears streaming down our faces. In front of us a girl walked with a bath on her head- it is a thick plastic bowl type thing that we launder in or sometimes use for cooking. This was a small bath and inside was Kaddie's boy. This is how we got to the cemetery. All walking together with Kaddie's "sister" carrying her piken on her head. It was not a short walk. We crossed 5 wooden tree bridges and walked two different gravel roads. We finally came to a place where the men were waiting. I learned here from Kaddie that the man in the yellow shirt was the father. He had arrived at the home just shortly before we left for the cemetery on his honda. He didn't say a whole lot and didn't even go near Kaddie but I had heard everyone calling her when he arrived. It was not at all who I thought it would be. He looked as though he was in his 30's and not early 30's. He son still did not have a name- and I wonder now if he will. But at the same time being known as Kaddie's piken is not a bad thing. We all know how much she loves him.
We all gathered together and turned and walked into the bush. Along the way I saw mounds of dirt and realized that we were already here and all of these were the burial plots. We walked to the back and they started digging. All around us were very small mounds- all little children. Some of the guys went back to get some large sticks while another started digging. After the small hole was about 3-4 ft deep he stopped. They cut the sticks and gathered a pile of branches. We gathered around while Kaddie's uncle began to pray. Her small boy was taken from the bath- wrapped in his white cloth and placed in the ground on top of a bed of leaves. They so carefully placed the branches over him so that he would be protected and then filled the place with more branches. Then Kaddie was called upon to push in the first dirt. She was to sit down and use her waist to push it in. Watching this mother- and friend so dear to me- have to go through this... After this- we the women walked out while the men finished. Kaddie collapsed as soon as we stepped out of the bush- her mother was having just as difficult of a time- and we still had to walk the couple miles home. All of this happened within hours of her son's death. As we walked she looked at me and said with such question in her eyes- "Christie, my body aches all over- why?" Oh Kaddie- you are going to feel it.
We brought her home to bed and then went back to JCC. I wanted to get her some things as well as give them the half bag of rice the One-by-One team had left. They had left this bag of rice and told me to give it to someone who needs it. I had been waiting for that time and I think this is the time. When someone dies- everyone comes to you and often you are expected to feed them. Even if this was not the case- Kaddie and her mom shouldn't have to worry about where their next meal is going to come from at this time. After a few hours- Aunty Mary, Fatmata, and I (along with little Sallay on my back) headed to Kaddie's with Jerry and the bag of rice on his head. We arrived to find Kaddie just sitting out front without her shirt on staring off as milk dripped from her. I do realize this is not what everyone wants to read and yet it is such a part of what she is going through. She had slept only to wake reaching for her boy and find him not there. Wanting to nurse both emotionally as well as physically NEEDING to nurse. Again I just sat with her. Praying. I had received some advice on how to help her in this area- and shared it with her mother as well as give her some advil- but...
I will continue to go to Kaddie and continue to ask God for wisdom for me and comfort for her. We will cry together and we will remember Kaddie's piken together. For all my hesitations about Kaddie being pregnant she was a wonderful mom who loved her boy with all that she was.
It is a stark reminder of how difficult things can be here. When I left Sierra Leone last time I had 6 friends who were pregnant. One died while I was gone. Another girl who lives near Kaddie gave birth to a baby boy who is now 4 months old. My friend Christiana's baby was still born. Emmanuel's baby is now 3 months. And another friend gave birth to twins- but she and one baby died. 6 mothers- 7 babies. 4 mothers are still alive and only 2 babies. Our driver Willie had a boy who was 5 months old when I left- he passed away 3 months before I returned I read that Sierra Leone was the worse place on Earth to give birth as well as having one of the highest child mortality rates- but to actually experience it...
My young friend Marion is pregnant now- my prayers have increased.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/17/opinion/17kristof.html?_r=1
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