It was planned and executed with absolute precision! After being all ready to leave, we had to wait around till we’d got the all clear that the TV crew had left Blantyre, we then went round to pick up someone but this someone was faffing about somewhere doing something or other. We set off then set off but got half way up the hill when it was remembered that we hadn’t got the programme of events! Anyway, we started off again and got the village nice and early. The Parade Ground was shrouded in mist and we couldn’t see a thing but that didn’t stop us trotting off down the slippy slidey slope to see what they students had built. We then went back to the parade ground and sat on the chairs that the first lot of students had been set out. Despite almost not being able to even seen each other we strangely didn’t bat an eyelid – we don’t anymore, just a quick shrug of the shoulders and a raised eyebrow and carry on chatting!
We sat and waited, the second lot of students came and then we sat and waited again. Boss Lady wandered off to play with the Chief. Our waiting was rudely interrupted by her mobile ringing so after ignoring it for a while I answered to find one of the students saying that the group who’d been sent to accompany the Film Crew were sitting at the college having run out of petrol and could I do something? Luckily the driver was still about, so he was dispatched back a third time to pick them up so we waited some more debating what we could do to entertain the crowds. Problem was we can’t sing, we can’t do traditional dancing (because that would be letting on that the English do Morris Dancing), we can’t remember any poems and can’t speak enough Chichewa to translate anything else – however there was a pretty large tarpaulin lying on the ground, plenty of mud and lovely water from the well so…mud wrestling was the only option sadly just as we were about to going the truck arrived…
‘ The TV crew’ turned out to be one man armed with a video camera and a sidekick with a microphone. We were instructed to troop back down the hill for shots round the well – the mist had cleared by then but it was just as slippy. Some filming was done, students stony faced and very serious, kiddies wailing and just about everyone else quietly peering round the trees to see what was going on. The real celebrations started back at the football ground, the students were all in charge and after the introductions and prayers as well as the nurse’s song (that catchy little number again!) there was a poem and a fantastic little play all about clean water and how to avoid diarrhoea. They are all born performers and it was incredibly funny and also really nice to see them doing things outside the classroom and off the ward – we felt like mummies at the school play!
After we hit the 5 hour mark it was all getting a bit much, the children who had quietly been picking their noses started bashing each other instead and the crowd thinned out as people went back off to the field to carry on planting their maize. Finally we wrapped up with a last prayer and departed with much waving to the remaining children and zikomos to everyone else.
A good day…but it wasn’t over yet…
So, this is it is it?!
We'll just wait here, can you see me??
The students arrive...
The dancing ladies...
On getting back to the hospital we drove in the gates to find some guardians coming the opposite way, trying to balance a near unconscious patient on a bike, obviously on they way home. I recognised the patient – someone from my ward that I’ve been expecting to pop off the planet for the last 2 weeks but somehow everyday he’s still there, just about hanging on. I guess they either requested that he be discharged because they know they won’t be able to pay the bill or maybe someone has had the bright idea of letting him die at home than in a ghastly, sweltering ward.
We asked Mrs Nkhoma to ask them where they lived so we could take him in the car. We loaded him into the front seat and one of the guardians hopped into. The poor man looked seriously ropey, he couldn’t even sit up on his own and I had to reach over from back seat to hold his head as we went bumping over the dirt tracks to his house. He had a horrible spluttering cough and raggedy breathing, he smelt bad and selfish cow that I am, all I could think of at one point was please don’t pee on the seats.
We eventually arrived at a tiny little shed – we got him out and he was taken inside and laid on a straw mat. We told the guardian to try and keep him sat upright a little to help his breathing and I checked what medication they’d be given and if they knew how & when to give it. I felt awful leaving and we only had a smidge of money with us, 200 MK, which is about 75p so we gave that too. On the way back we tried to rationalise not doing more and came to the conclusion that maybe we’ve saved the relatives the awful expense of transporting a dead body from the hospital, at least we gave him a comfortable last ride home, and surely better to die at home with relatives having a go than being neglected on the ward.
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