Ana awakened drenched in
perspiration. Rivulets of sweat ran
over her body. She wearily sat up
hoping for a breath of air. The heat was
almost unbearable in this primitive African village on the Niger River.
She draped herself in a cloth and went to take
a splash bath. Water was scarce. Maybe she could use a half
bucket. It had to be hauled in from a spring two
miles away. She looked out as the sun
began to rise and at last a small breeze blew in from the river. The fragrance of tropical flowers hung heavy
in the humid air.
The river reflected the early light like a
mirror of glass in the moonlight. The
morning was deathly quiet. It was
Saturday and hopefully she would have a day for herself - a rare
experience. She needed to mark some
papers which she hadn't had time to do. She had just begun when one of her students walked in.
She looked up and greeted him, "Good morning, Abubakar." "Good morning,
Madam. Madam you must come quickly, please,"
he said. "A boy is seriously sick
in the dormitory. "Weariness
seeped through Ana's body. The humid
steam of the tropics seemed to sap every ounce of strength. Sand flies and
mosquitoes were ever present. With
doors and windows open to the elements, mosquitoes, flies, chickens, goats and
snakes moved in and out at will.
Ana had come as a teacher under contract
to the Ministry of Education. Her
adventure had begun. She had a hundred
and eighty five students in English, four or five students to a book and not
enough desks and chairs in the classrooms with sixty students each.
The students sat on the floor, stood up, or
squatted around a single book. She had
been told this was a premier school. She couldn't imagine what the others must be like.
Later, she was to learn first hand.
Ibrahim was screaming with pain when Ana
arrived at the dormitory. She looked at
his foot, which was swollen several times in size. She asked Ibrahim when he had cut his foot, a very small cut only
about a half-inch long , and found he had cut it on an iron bed frame several
days before. She asked him if he had gone to the native hospital. He
replied that he had. Ana realized they had
treated it in the usual way with iodine and cotton placed directly on the
wound. There was no antibiotic or
anti-tetanus serum given. Ana knew
Ibrahim had blood poisoning. She told
him she would collect him in her car shortly as he was not able to walk to her
house.
Ana's conflicting emotions waged a
constant battle within. All forms of
sickness were in epidemic proportions.
She did not like nursing; yet, here she was in this primitive
village literally playing God. Her
faith seemed severely shaken by the malnutrition, disease, and poverty with which
she was surrounded. She was thousands
of miles from home, with long lines of sick students at her door from sun-up
until midnight hoping to get a little help from her. Her drug supply was limited.
She had managed to get the officials at the Ministry headquarters to
give her a small amount of money to buy them.
The ride to the mission hospital was
terrible. The road alternated between
potholes and several feet of sand.
About two hours later, Ana, Ibrahim, and the Head boy arrived at the
hospital. The lines were always endless. She felt guilty about just
walking straight into the doctor's office in front of all the sick people.
Some she knew had been waiting all night,
but the doctor had told her on similar visits not to wait.
The mission doctor, a marvelous,
dedicated, four-by-four Irish Priest, who worked under the most difficult
conditions, greeted her, "Ana,
what brings ye here today?"
"The usual, a sick student," She replied.
"Ah, we'd luv to have ye, Luv, just for
a visit some time, but bring him on in."
The Head boy helped Ibrahim in.
The doctor confirmed that he had blood poisoning.
He looked troubled.
Ana asked, " Father, what is the
problem? "He explained that there
was no anti-tetanus serum in the hospital.
Several people had already needlessly died because of problems getting
the drugs through the corrupt officials at the port.
"If we can't get the serum, he will die," the doctor
said. "Do you know where I might find a vial," Ana asked.
"Large quantities of drugs have been
stolen from the Government Hospital and sold on the black market. Ye might find a vial at a hole-in-the wall
chemist shop in the market." The
market was another hour away in the opposite direction. She told him she would
try to find the serum.
By now the mid-day heat had reached 120
degrees. Activity had virtually stopped. Man and beast lounged in
stuperous lethargy. Bodies were awash
with perspiration. Clothes clung to the
body with serpentine tenacity.
Ana avoided going to the market when
possible. It always felt like a blazing inferno. The humidity was stifling, the
stench nauseous. A kaleidoscope of
sights and sounds attacked the senses.
Butchers slaughtered the day's meat.
Pigs squealed and cows bellowed in agony as their throats were cut.
Blood soaked the earth.
Thousands of vultures perched on lean-to
stalls barely six feet in the air forming a black rim between the earth and
sun. They stared with glassy eyed
arrogance down on passersby who might dare to interrupt their feeding.
Their sinister evilness seemed to reach out
and engulf her. Huge garbage piles blocked
the main road to the river. Small
children with beautiful smiles and virginal innocence played happily amidst the
filth. Getting around was an obstacle
course between piles of rubbish and the animals feeding on the garbage.
A line of emaciated girls in scant
clothing wound their way from the river carrying heavy clay jugs of water.
Their heads were bent low, and their backs
deformed from the load. Newborn babies
barely out of the womb, were strapped to the girls' bodies.
The tiny babies looked like they might be
crushed, drowned, or smothered at any moment.
All the girls were prostitutes, driven out from their villages and tribes.
Visible signs of venereal
disease were on many. "Water,
water," they cried, "Ten kobo, ten kobo."
For five hours Ana's search
continued. She trudged in and out of
any place she thought might have the serum.
She felt helpless with the futility of it all.
Defeat gleefully stared her in the face.
She was ready to give up.
After asking many questions, she found there
was one place she hadn't been. One more place - finish.
She would return to the
mission and confess she couldn't find the serum.
She walked into the last hovel.
After telling the trader what she was
looking for, with the use of much sign language, Pidgin English and some
interpreters, he got the message. He
rummaged through box after dusty box.
Finally, with the most innocent and beatific smile, he produced one
small 1500 cc vial of anti-tetanus serum.
Ana could barely believe her eyes.
She felt like shouting with joy; the weight of tons seemed to lift from
her being. She beamed and commended the
trader over and over with many "well dones."
He bowed low to the ground, and then the
rascal charged her
three times the value of the serum.
Ana headed wearily to her car with a very
light heart. An entourage of little
people surrounded her. She always
managed to find some "dashe, dashe" for them.
A small girl, stark naked, with deep
cicatrices in her beautiful face, clung tightly to one hand.
Others touched her back.
A small boy proudly held tenaciously to her purse. They spoke no English; yet, they
felt the love that transcends language and culture.
As Ana bounced happily between potholes
and slid with the sand on her way back to the mission, the sun began to
set. Hopefully, tonight would be cooler. Though she was dirty, hungry,
and tired, within her heart she felt a thrill and happiness - a reason for
being, a reaffirmation of her own faith.
Yes, many would die in this primitive place, but the small precious
vial, tucked so carefully in her purse would give one young boy a chance of
tomorrow.
