Thursday, October 26, 2006
A Matter of Heart
It’s 10am on a Wednesday morning in the Tanzanian border town of Kyela. A few miles to the South you find Lake Malawi and to the East and West the Livingstone Mountains. Kyela is known for two things, its high quality rice and its high level of HIV/AIDS infections. It’s also a place where the support of a few conscientious people has made an impact on the lives of 120 preschool children, their families and their village called Ngonga.
Best estimates indicate Kyela District, which includes Kyela town, has an HIV infection rate of around 13.5% (double the national rate of 7.7%). The number of orphan children corresponds to the infection rate with estimates showing 19.5% of children have been orphaned. The seriousness of the situation is further exacerbated when one looks at some other frightening facts. Kyela District, with a population of 174,000 people, has an average of 38.9 nurses and 2.5 doctors per 100,000 people. Bicycle is the primary mode of transportation and even if people can get to hospitals, the cost and capacity of the services provided further hinder proper care. If education is the key to prevention then the fact that there is no high school to be found in the entire district further frames the severity of the situation.
Adamson arrives. We shake hands and immediately begin talking. He tells me of how he has suspected for some time he was HIV positive, but did not get tested until his eight year old daughter died after a long sickness. It was when he brought his family in for testing that he discovered that both he and his wife were positive. Their remaining daughters tested negative. He continued explaining how he decided to form a support group after his wife had a mental breakdown and returned to her village of Ngongo where we run our early childhood education project. I looked down and realized we were still holding hands, then back up to Adamson’s face that had a deep look of determination to do something about his situation. I promised to visit his group the following Saturday and we parted ways.
The night before, a few fellow volunteers and I dinned with Harrison Mwakiembe, the Member of Parliament for Kyela District. We discussed the severity of the AIDS pandemic in his constituency. He told us of a recent drive to test for HIV and of the 10,000 suspected persons tested, 6,000 were positive and how only 800 had access to ARV’s, of which only 400 took them regularly as required, (due to the distance to the hospitals that are authorized to administer these drugs). He talked about how the Lutheran hospital in Matema Town was overwhelmed with AIDS patients and how he planned to educate 200 youth workers to bring AIDS education and health services to the remote rural communities.
At first glance the situation seems hopeless. Look again and you realize that desperate it is, but hopeless it is not. What the above two stories have in common is that people are talking. People are realizing the severity of the AIDS pandemic and people are taking action.
When I started university 7 years ago I never would of imagine that my education would lead me to working with a grass-roots organization in Kyela District , facing the HIV/AIDS pandemic head-on. A Canadian sponsored CUSO internship has enabled me to provide volunteer services to Friends of Tanzania, an organization focused on reducing child poverty and the impact of the HIV/AIDS pandemic. However, it is the support from individuals, such as those from St. Paul’s United Church in Orillia that makes our work possible. In May of this year, St. Paul’s United Church invited me to give a presentation about my work here in Tanzania, in which I highlighted Friends of Tanzania’s efforts to start an early childhood education and nutrition project in Ngonga village. I explained to my friends at St. Paul’s that the aim is not only to improve the lives of children, but to mobilize the community and provide a steppingstone for education and development that will better enable people to make better life choices. In support of Friends of Tanzania’s project members of St. Paul’s donated a total of 620 dollars.
We informed the MP of our next steps: the nutritional program for the younger children below Nursery School age, as well as adult education in the evenings. The nutrition program for the Nursery School is under way as the village mothers pay 45 cents per month per child to serve a porridge made of corn flour, cane sugar, millet, sorghum and soy. The adult education is in the development stages as various topics are being discussed from HIV/AIDS and basic health care to improved agricultural practices. Once we have solar power for the classrooms, these classes can begin in the evenings. Impressed with the progress, the M.P said that he would like to use our achievements in Ngonga as a template for the entire district.
The bus departs from Kyela Town and as we climb into the Livingston Mountains I reflect upon the last ten days. I first think back to that poor woman, and wonder if she was infected by a cheating husband. I remember the words of a friend from the University of Dar es Salaam who described marriage as a “death sentence” for women because they cannot confront cheating husbands. As I try to think back on the woman I realize that I have already forgotten what she looks like. I did not know her name or anything about her for that fact…just another person being consumed by the AIDS pandemic.
As I drift to sleep I think back to the faces I do remember…the faces that will bring change to Kyela. I think of Adamson and his budding support group, I think of Kyela’s M.P, Harrison Mwakiembe, an energetic man with heart and courage to match. I think of our three newly trained teachers, Hilda, Bertha and Betty. I think of Mr. Zawala, the open-minded and ambitious Head Master of the Ngonga primary school. Most of all I think of the 120 young kinder garden faces…of Amos and Autupele, Zawadi (gift in Swahili) and Baraka (blessing in Arabic). I think of Baraka’s grandfather, Mr. Mwaipopo, the poor farmer who donated the land for the project. For these people the your support means more than a few bags of cement, cans of paint or roofing sheets, it means an opportunity for change.