Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Africa: Day 2 (Kampala, Uganda)

Who am I? Who am I to be given this task of providing ARVs and medicine to children in East and Southern Africa? Who am I to be allowed to be a part of something like this, where I get to meet brave people who every day fight for the rights of children to have adequate care and a hope of life? Who am I to fit into this large puzzle as a little piece, adding a bit of color, a bit of character in what could really quite a bleak picture if not for the people here on the ground in Africa and in other parts of the world who toil day in and day out to provide the kids with what they need? They are the ones who are the main characters in the puzzle… the picture would be impossible without them.

I am always humbled when I see what ordinary people can do with a little elbow grease, hard work, some donations, and lots of prayer. I am amazed that I, little Tanya, am a part of the work done by Mulago Hospital, which provides care for 25% of the children who receive ART in Uganda. There are so many others who need help…so many who could use some medicine…we have a lot more to do! Food, counseling, medicine, testing, PMTCT, community development, and so many other steps are needed in order to do a complete job. When I see it all coming together, as I did in Mulago today, I get overjoyed that we are a little sliver in the big pie which constitutes ART (anti-retroviral therapy).

The Pediatric Infectious Disease Center of Mulago Hospital is overflowing…children, babies, and parents wait patiently for hours, waiting to be seen…on an average day, 175 children are seen at this Center. Waiting rooms are full to capacity, hallways have become a place of gathering, with nurses and doctors having to squeeze their way through. Two doctors share each of the consulting rooms because they have run out of space. Yet, patients keep coming and they literally overflow to the outer walls of the Center, finding shade as they know the wait could be long. Yet, they wait because they know that their children will be treated with dignity and that if they need help and medicine, they will not be turned away. In fact, AFCA provides medicine for 350 of the kids who need the life saving (anti-retroviral) medicine these kids need to survive and it is awesome to see how

In the main waiting room, Nurse Jane is reading books to waiting children and a play mat is set up in the corner for the kids to do some exercise and games every day. not only does this help kill some of the boredom of waiting, but the kids get a rare chance of reading and borrowing books from the “waiting room library”, a little cubby with inventoried book which the kids can check out to read while they wait. As we walk through the waiting room, little hands reach out to touch our white legs, smiling when they’ve touched the foreigner. Curly, braided, matted, out of control, combed, clean and/or dirty little heads look up at us, not knowing who we are. Not knowing that my heart is breaking for the other children, the ones who don’t have the opportunity for care and medicine. As I look into their eyes, whether they are sick or doing better, I feel a sense of urgency to do more, to help in a larger way. And I come back around to the question “who am I to have been chosen to do this work, to be given the chance to help in some way?”

And, I am humbled to be counted as one of those who is battling in the fight against pediatric AIDS.

No comments: