So much left unsaid: Reflections

We are back in the USA, but my mind is on rewind. The songs taught to us by Emanuel sing through thoughts and though my voice is not one that cries to be heard, the tune emerges in joy from my lips and I sing without an audience (and that is probably a good thing!).

I haven’t used my blog to reflect on the school that I visited while in Nigeria. While in Oweri, the city where our hotel was located, I had a chance to visit the school founded by Dr. Okey’s wife, Ngozi. The school was first chartered as a K – 5 in 1993 (I believe) and just in the last few years has extended its offerings through high school, which in Nigeria ends at the culmination of the 11th grade. The goal of this school is to prepare its students for the university. To enter into the university, students must achieve a prescriptive level on a state exam. If I understand correctly, there are three different types of high school exit tests that can be taken as college placement. In my mind, this sounds much like European systems that I have some familiarity with.

My first visit was on a Sunday when the students were not in attendance A school is a lonely place without children, but the emptiness does provide a clear view of what the students and teachers must “do without.” They have very few blackboards and only very dated computers…from my estimation, computers from the mid-eighties. I didn’t see many books and wondered at the difference in the ways we teach.

My second visit was later that week, just as students were finishing up exams and leaving on a month long spring break. Return to school will be in mid-April. What a change having the enthusiasm of children and learners in a building makes!! I still saw few textbooks except in the hands of a few teachers, but learning was active and energized. American educators are so dependent upon textbooks! Now I am not saying a text is a bad thing–texts are essential to learning. However, I am one of those who believe that being tied to a textbook can be constrictive to learning and moreover, can be an excuse not to venture beyond a publisher’s view of reality or knowledge and explore the multiplicities of understandings and realities. On the other hand, the availability of a textbook as needed is a liberating tool that can help students learn about ownership in learning. So I digress. Let the pictures tell the story.

All students wear uniforms, regardless of grade level.

English instruction is an essential element at PAC. Students here are educated in preparation for eventual university study. Universities instruct in English.

As I visited each class, the students stood as a group and chanted a greeting in unison. Then they awaited my instruction that they could be seated.

Hot lunches are provided for the children who make that choice, somewhat as here in the US. There is no kitchen at the school and all lunches are brought in by an outside provider.

In addition to concrete walls and a locked gate, security is provided at all times by this guard.

Children and even most adults had not seen a digital camera; all were amazed at the instantenous image to view!

Throughout the country, I saw no graffiti. At the school, concrete walls told the history of Nigeria through images painted in clear and brilliant view.

This picture began with just a child or two, but before I could squeeze the trigger, more had joined in!

These are the most books I saw while at the school. Granted, I did not get into the high school portion of the building. Those students were taking mid-term exams. The teacher told me that this was his personal library, but that he did occasionally share a book with students.

After finishing their exams, the boys began a game of soccer, but just as with the little children, when my camera came into view, they rushed to be included in a picture.

Classrooms in the elementary section of the existing building are divided by half-walls. New construction (in the foreground) will have full walls that divide the grade level classes. A much needed improvement for both teachers and students in an otherwise loud educational environment.

As a team, we came to strengthen the weak; as a team, we left strengthened by those we served.

 

 

 

 

 

Selfless Service

Coming near the end of our time here, I find our work is only now becoming the most productive. As a team, we saw more than 300 patients today…some stations saw as many as 75! My partner, Paula and I, saw more than 37 before noon, but lost track after the lunch break. For lunch, we feasted on fried rice, red sliced tomatoes, fried plantain, and fresh pineapple.  The fresh pineapple of Africa I will miss…it is sweet and juicy like I have never tasted before and their bananas, too, have a richer and deeper flavor. Some might say it is the reward of our hunger and hard work, but I truly believe the fruit here has a depth of flavor no attained by the grocery store produce we are privy to share in the Midwest.

Some of today’s patients were saddening: a ten year-old girl blinded by a beating she took in school more than a year ago. We cannot help her. A twenty year-old girl who is suffering from what appears to be reproductive issues following a botched Caesarean section in 2000—she was only 12. A woman of 28 whose symptoms led us to believe she has ovarian cancer….probably too far gone to save her life. And women, several of them, with huge tumors on their throats that make goiter look like an insignificant inflammation. Most of our clinic visitors suffer from malaria and many suffer from worms. The water supply here is filthy as a single source provides the necessity for laundering clothes, watering animals and preparing food.

The children continue to arrive each day. Some have become regulars and know the routine of the day. We treat children and their families for all types of illness and injury. Occasionally we are lucky to have even “well baby “checks! When time allows, we entertain children with games and song. They love “Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes” and have also learned “The B-I-B-L-E” and “The Hokey-Pokey.”

Connecting with the World

 

Internet access here is not easy. I was able to get online last night and then again today, but who knows when the next time will be. My post yesterday was a bit dated, as you could tell, but today’s post I really wrote this morning as a reflection of the time I have been in Nigeria. Please read on and comment. You cannot realize how much it means to me and the rest of the team to know that other’s support our work and appreciate the communication between the developed and underdeveloped worlds, America and Africa.

 

We have been serving in Africa one full week! Time here is a paradox –long days that pass quickly – working in August heat and humidity. Travel here is hard. The streets are congested and the road systems are under construction–the picture below tells the story. We travel to and from the clinic in Ohaji by van – -the 10 of us Americans, our driver and two security men. The road winds from the suburban community of Owerri through the heart of the city and then back out to the countryside. Everywhere are people–walking riding bikes, driving cars, packed into vans, or doubled and even tripled on motorcycles.

We learned today that many of the motorcycles are what they call in English, “commercial,” in other words, used as taxis! Today as we returned tired and sweaty from the clinic we were more than amused by the vision of a motorcycle passenger carrying a limp white chicken by its droop neck, its full, dead though fully feathered carcass hanging alongside his leg! Dinner, I imagine – -what a hoot! And speaking of dinner, I ventured to a roadside stand with our hostess, Ngozi, to purchase carrots for dinner. The staple here is rice and cassava, but as Americans, we are craving (if you can imagine this…..) VEGTABLES!!

The clinic is simple, concrete walls and floors. There are no doors on the rooms with the exception of the pharmacy and the windows only recently were covered with mesquite screening. We have established our temporary pharmacy in the appropriate space, working out of trunks filled with with antibiotics, pain meds, malaria meds, and the like. Because none of the rooms but the pharmacy have doors, this room serves as our secure site for personal belongings, water and meager snacks.

 In the clinic are five or six patient rooms, several housing patients and patient ‘s families. In one room is a mother and her six day old baby. She was a Caesarean delivery and I assume will probably go home soon. In another room is a young female patient who just delivered her third stillborn child. With that surgical delivery came more bad news; she is HIV positive. Emotionally and physically drained, she lies on her bed without moving, now for as many days as we have been in the clinic. The remainder of the rooms have become stations for seeing patients. The doctors in attendance vary from day to day. Always, Dr. Okey is on hand; the clinic is his workmanship. Also are his nephews: one an internist and the other a pysychiatrist. From day to day, other doctors come and go. Each doctor has a station from which to evaluate their patients and each station has a Nigerian nurse and a white nurse: together they work to bridge the divide of language and desperation.

The newest in-patients arrived yesterday-twin baby girls. Good Job!

This is Africa: Post #1

Happy St. Patrick’s Day from Africa! We are not wearing green today—rather, we are in our Aid Africa’s Children t-shirts ready to start our first day of service to the hundreds we anticipate awaiting our arrival at Ojhahi clinic. We are anxious to get to work, but time has its own pace here—it knows not the rush of western culture. The people are passionate and even emotional at times, but the passion is not of the nature that spurs into action.

In our time here, I have seen three different though similar and interwoven views of African life. The hotel is a highly protected microcosm of the reality that surrounds us. The first night of our hotel stay we were entertained by a African guitar-vocalist whose musical tones and heartfelt lyrics brought reminiscent thoughts of American country western songs. As the sun set and the air cooled, the patio (safely protected behind concrete walls and barbed wire) began to fill with men in both business attire and casual dress. Among them were uniformed guards. We learned that night that many of the guests we saw in the hotel were in fact security on-hand for our benefit and safety.

The hotel workers are anxious to please and to serve. They know we carry medical supplies and medicines. They, too, are people in need of the very services we bring—but they will not be at our clinic. It is a forty minute drive from the city and they will not have time from work to be there. Instead, they whisper to us about their sufferings or the sicknesses of their loved ones. They want the gift of medicine and though we may want to share, to give them medicines will only create a line of needy. Everyone has need.

Beyond the hotel, we have spent hours driving the streets. The road to Ojhahi takes us through the city and beyond that through villages along the countryside. The roads are chaotic…cars of 1970’s vintage and motorcycles of all makes and models crowd each other for space in travel. Two lanes turn into three and four as our driver passes cars while others are oncoming. Honking horns note the intention of passing and motorcyclists shout in our windows as they pass us—close enough to reach in and grab cameras from our hands! There are not stoplights and thousands of people on foot and in vehicles merging in the streets and sometimes literally fighting for space.

In Ojhahi we find the people who we will serve, people who have come to be healed or relieved of pain. We worshipped with them on Sunday in the clinic chapel.  Bare except for plastic chairs, the fifteen square foot chapel  filled with song and praise–classic Christian songs put to African rhythms followed by testimonies of faith and healing, delivered in Ebu and translated by Dr. Okey or Pastor Emanuel. The people at the clinic, workers  demonstrate a quiet perseverance and that seems to be reflected in ceremonial ritual and serves as to Rather, theHowever, before we may serve, there will be a commissioning service. In attendance are government officials and other dignitaries of note. The Nigerians are ceremonious and though we only want to see patients, the publicity of this event can strengthen the coffers and aid the Nigerians will provide to their own.

 

So..about the trip. The flight is a long one….Some thirty hours after our arrival at Chicago O’Hare, we arrived in Owerri, Africa. We are ten missioners and just transporting us from place to place requires orchestration equal to that of a group of one hundred in the States. Transport from the airport to the hotel alone required four vehicles—buses are uncommon as are vans…so we moved our twenty cases of medications in a van and moved ourselves and our carry-ons in three vehicles. The journey to Owerri was about fourty-five minutes, maybe an hour. The temperature today is probably about 90 and is equalled by the humidity–pretty much like Illinois is July!!!

We rested Saturday night….exhausted!! However, before rest came a welcome party. The hotel had hired a guitar-vocalist who entertained us with songs….some distinctly country western!

Starting on Our Journey

We’re at the Atlanta airport waiting our flight to Lagos, Nigeria. I met the full Aid Africa’s Children spring mission group for the first time today and I am sure we are going to have a fun and life-changing experience. Several in the group have traveled with mission work before and several have never been overseas.

 Let me introduce you:

Terry, the group leader, is an ICU nurse. Laurene, a surgical technologist with EMT and hospice experience, is first time missioner.

Dan, the man, is a theology student with exceptional skills in craftsmanship. Wendy is a currently a real estate broker having retired from intensive care nursing. Nikki is a nurse-practitioner and my sister-in-law Jann another among the nursing staff that are supporting this humanitarian aid mission to Nigeria. Lauren is clinical data collector. She has always wanted to do mission work and has the time now that she is between undergrad and med school.

And then there are two teachers: myself and Rebecca. 

We are being paged to our Nigerian flight. Will land in Lagos eleven hours from our take-off. Check back in and see if we found internet access upon our landing.