My morning in Buziika never starts with a gentle wake up, slowly rubbing the sleep from my eyes and begrudgingly dragging my arse out of bed; instead it begins with Muslim prayers over a loud speaker at 5am, competing with the cock crow and the mad cow, the noise of the streets coming alive at 6am and then the local radio station blaring over the towns intercom system (they play the happiest island style jingle to announce a death). I wake up with a jolt, filled with excitement to start my day, there is no sleep in my eyes and I gladly bounce out from under my mosquito net. I sleep less than 7 hours here every day yet I do not feel the exhaustion that I normally feel in the states; instead I feel like I have a purpose that keeps me energized all day.
I spent the day passing out food in two more of our local villages. These food distribution days involve an extreme amount of walking in the hot African sun. Walks filled with questions in my heart of how all this could be happening and how people are able to survive like this. I am not becoming immune to seeing the poverty as I walk through the streets. My heart aches for the children with swollen bellies and a hallow look in their eyes, some of their parents or caregivers close by with that same despondent look. Then my heart overflows as a mother kneels on the ground, reaching out excitedly to hug me and repeat over and over “God bless you”. To that one family our donations make a difference, to that one mother we have brought some hope. One drop in the ocean creates ripples; I’m hoping to provide multiple drops that will collide into a wave. When we come upon the sickest of the sick during these days we send them to the Canaan health clinic where I have placed a vast supply of medications to be used free of charge for the people I send in. Today a pregnant woman came in with a UTI, she was not on my list, on the ultra sound it showed the bacteria was beginning to affect the fetus, she could not afford the antibiotics, Morgan and Leah were able to provide her with free medication from my box so that she and her baby would be safe. I was overjoyed hearing this story. Later in the day, Morgan and Leah had a shock when a severely malnourished girl was brought in. Some neighbors had found her body and were kind enough to buy a boda boda ride to the clinic. Every bone in her body could be counted and she was shaking like a leaf. Her parents were nowhere to be found so she was sent to a bigger facility with the police. Morgan came to recount this story to me while I was happily seated on the seesaw cuddling Esther while the other children played around us.
I had not been happy at the start of my seesaw perching. At first I sat on the seesaw to sit next to Enoch. We were sitting shoulder to shoulder and he wouldn’t look me in the eye. I asked him how his day was and what he learned in school, he shrugged these questions off and responded with “you’re leaving on Sunday”. It was more of a statement than a question, my heart shattered at my feet and I fought back the lump in my throat. I responded with a simple “yes” at which he asks, “will you come back?” He is still refusing to look at me and has even turned his back to me at this point. I told him I was going to do everything in my power to make sure I was here again next year. His response was silence, I was lost, I had no idea how to comfort him, I couldn’t promise him I would be back no doubt about it since we never know what a year might bring. All I could do was hug him close and tell him okwagala nyo (I love you so much) over and over again until I got a slight grin and giggle. My heart breaks thinking about the pain these children have had to endure, the lack of a mother’s love, the abandonment, the false promises, the hungry bellies. I want to wrap them all in a mother’s love and allow them to feel that security for just once, yet here I am leaving them. I try every chance I get to shower the kids in affection; tonight my affection with Enoch was homework duty. He gladly brought me his work to be checked, while we sat on the cement ground outside his dorm, and listened intently and I corrected wrong answers with him by teaching him how to find the right answer. A few of the other children cuddled in close to listen to the exchange. I wish I knew how to tell these children they are forever in my heart.
I will start by a shopping spree tomorrow! I have gotten enough donations to buy enough food to feed our kids for a month plus making sure the children who cannot afford lunch at our school are provided for! Sponsors have been lost so food for our kids is being bought on a week-to-week basis of uncertainty. In the morning Josephine and I will go into Jinja so that I can withdraw the donations from my bank account and then buy food in bulk to be taken back with us in the afternoon. I hope this brings joy to their hearts.
God is LOVE
Gypsy RN
