After being at Kechene for awhile, I have started thinking about a lot of things besides education. The kids are learning so much there, and they have such a supportive environment, that I can tell they are really being set up for success. Now my mind keeps wondering to other areas of life for these students, especially relating to health and hygiene. The students essentially wear the same clothes to school every day, which look like they haven’t been washed in weeks, and I couldn’t guess the last time they took a bath. Many of them have been sick over the past month, and a few have totally rotten teeth. Kechene has a little school clinic with first aid, which is a good start, but there is no trained health care professional that can help them. Although the school has budgeted in money to take students to the doctor when they are sick, they don’t actually have the funds to do so; they barely have enough money to serve lunch each day.
I do think the school is, however, making the best of what they have. Last week, we held a community health training for the students’ parents, and I think it was incredibly successful (even though I couldn’t understand much of what they were saying…). They had a doctor come in and speak about the most pressing health issues in the community, including family planning, sanitation, and HIV/AIDS. The participants had a discussion about how HIV transmission can be prevented and how people shouldn’t alienate those with HIV because it only makes the problem worse. One woman shared a story about how she was caring for three of her grandchildren when one of her daughters came home because she was dying of AIDS. She said the community looked down on her for living with someone with AIDS, and she was shunned by many of her friends and neighbors. But neither she nor any of the children she took care of became infected with HIV. She convinced the group that they need to care for anyone who needs it, including those with HIV. All of the participants then vowed to take a free HIV test at a local clinic, and to tell at least one other person what they learned at the training. Overall, there were probably 60 or 70 parents there, including many fathers, uncles, brothers, and grandfathers (this really impressed me because childcare was not a burden to fall solely on women, like it was in rural Uganda). It was incredible to watch, as it was truly community-led development.
One of the saddest health-related issues I have seen at Kechene had to do with a twelve year-old girl named Asegedech. One day about two weeks ago, she was crying in the middle of class and one of the teachers went over to comfort her. I asked what was wrong, and the teacher showed me one of Asegedech’s molars that was completely rotten. She was in a lot of pain. I asked if the school had money to send her to the dentist, but they did not. So I offered to pay for it. The next day, Asegedech, Asrat (the teacher), and I walked to the dentist for a check-up. I think the other patients thought it was totally strange to see a foreigner at the clinic, because it definitely wasn’t one of those hospitals run by ex-pats. But Asegedech and I just played tic tac toe and drew pictures while we waited, as I was trying to distract her from being nervous (she had never been to the dentist before, even though she has already had four rotten baby teeth pulled by a traditional medicine woman). We bonded a lot; one man came up to me and said, “you love her, don’t you? You treat her like your own. It’s great, I have never seen it before.” I really had no idea what to say, probably because I think the man was right. I do love her, and I so sincerely believe she deserves a wonderful, healthy life. Anyway, we finally got to see the dentist, who said the tooth was infected and useless and needed to be taken out. Asrat wanted to talk to her parents first, since it was a permanent tooth, so we got some antibiotics from the pharmacy and told the doctor we would come back the next day.
The next day, however, turned into a couple of weeks. I kept asking Asrat when we could return to the dentist, but he kind of shrugged it off saying Asegedech’s father had not come to talk with him about it. I was a little frustrated; I wanted to help but totally agreed we should talk to her father. I wanted to call or visit her home or something, but Asrat didn’t really respond when I suggested this. I know he cares a lot but I think his approach was a little less pro-active than mine. I didn’t want to force my opinion, I mean I know nothing about teeth or medicine! And besides, Asegedech looked like she was doing better, so I decided to drop the issue and hoped the right thing to do would make itself clear.
It did. The very next day, Asegedech’s father (a very soft-spoken, cute old man) showed up to school, saying she had been crying all night because she was in so much pain. We all left for the dentist right away. Asegedech had to get a gigantic shot and she cried and screamed when she saw the pliers that would be yanking out her tooth. But we held her hands, and her dad comforted her a lot. She was so brave and I was proud that I almost felt like I was her mom. I was a little worried about how well she would recover (this dentist office consisted of pliers, anesthesia, and two patient chairs, that’s it). But even the next day, Asegedech had a bigger smile on her face than I have ever seen, and she was eating like nothing had ever happened. How wonderful! I got out a pack of stickers to give her, and the price tag caught my eye. I had spent three dollars on stickers, about the same amount that it cost to take Asegedech to the dentist. The whole ordeal cost less than five dollars. It made me think of what we could do if once in awhile we thought about Asegedech instead of buying something we don’t need.
All of these events have gotten me really interested in community health. I want to find a cost-effective, community-based model of health care for schools in developing countries. Maybe I could even help start a health and sanitation program at Kechene; they really need it. Of course, I love these kids so much, and aside from their health and well-being, I don’t care that they are dirty and have snot running down their faces. They have so much joy even though their lives are hard, and I can tell they really appreciate all that Kechene is doing for them. They are the greatest kids in the world.
