Three Miles to the Clinic; Walking with Moses

As we huffed and puffed to climb the ups and down of the gravelly and rocky paths, Moses easily glided ahead of us with his crisp white shirt and sturdy hiking shoes. Walking through Allentown and Calaba Town, I was most struck by the variety of homes that were haphazardly arranged up the mountain. While the vast majority were of concrete foundation with corrugated metal for walls, there was the occasional large compound with high concrete walls armed with barbed wire and broken beer bottles cemented to the top. These contained huge, lavish homes that starkly contrasted with the modest, community-built homes. As we walked, it didn’t matter if it was a corrugated metal and concrete house, a large and lavish home or a tarp and wood shack, Moses led us straight through all of them, jumping over deep irrigation channels, ducking through the trees that spotted our path or walking past groups of people chatting out in front of their houses. Our intention for this walk was to experience the three mile hike that it would take any sick person (or pregnant woman for that matter) to get to the nearest clinic for treatment. The further we walked though, the harder it was to imagine to get to the clinic if you were going into labor. To get to the clinic, we walked about two miles of path that cut through houses, and then about a mile through a loud, crowded market. This market was incredible, it was absolute sensory overload! Every five feet was a new stall with brightly colored small peppers, smoke dried fish and eel, fresh fish, chicken feet, cassava and groundnut leaves, rice, bulgur, beans, medicinal herbs, foam soap, cloth, and other little trinkets. Essentially, every stall was selling the same things, but there was new vibrancy with each stall and each vendor was just as excited as the next to show off his or her goods. None of the roads in Allentown or Calaba Town is paved, but it was especially evident in the market because it was situated on flat land, as opposed to the incline of the rest of the roads we walked along. Because of the lack of opportunity for drainage, most of the road was covered with puddles of mud that the passenger vans and motor bikes splashed right through.

Home in Allentown.

Home in Allentown.

Entering the Calaba Town market.

Smoked dried fish.

Okra, persimmon and eggplant.

Typical stall in the market.

Rice and bean stall in market.

          Once we got to what seemed like the end of the market, we reached the clinic. At the entrance was a group of three men sitting on the porch area and they welcomed us graciously, and once we entered we were escorted straight to the doctor’s consultation office. The whole clinic that serves three large communities consists of a waiting room that could fit around 40 people with two adjoining rooms, both for consultation.  A walkway crossed outside to two enclosed maternity rooms for delivery. We talked for a half hour with Zaynab, the clinic doctor, before she excused us out so that she could tend to her patients. She discussed the need for prevention education because of the number of people that come into the clinic with problems that could have been lessened or avoided with preventative care. The three most prevalent ailments that she talked about were: malaria, diarrhea, and acute respiratory infections some of which are caused by overzealous hand-feeding of children by mothers - all of which are preventable. Zaynab also discussed the free, government-funded services that the clinic provides to children under five, pregnant and lactating women, as well as free delivery and malaria medication. Our most triumphant moment during the interview was her suggestion to teach about hygiene and oral rehydration therapy, which is exactly what we had come to teach! We talked for just a few more minutes before she had to back to working with her patients, so we left and continued on our walk.

Moses walking into the Calaba Town Market Clinic.

Health posters outside the clinic.

Dr. Zaynab and Moses in the consultation room of the clinic.

          After making our way through a bit more of the market and going up one of the winding dirt roads, we ending up at a Baptist secondary school where we were able to meet and talk with the principal. During our conversation, there was one number that still creeps back into my mind at least once a day, he told us that it costs le 50,000 (which is around $11) per year for a child to attend.  Most of the students from Abigail D. Butscher School (ADB) could not afford that and therefore were not able to attend secondary school at all. Walking through the classrooms, there seemed to be two grades per room, but were definitely larger than the rooms of ADB, it was also enclosed like a compound with a solid metal gate and a small door that stayed open during the day. We chatted about what the children learned and other such topics before we left to walk up the road again. The next stop we made was at a Catholic primary and secondary school where we were able to talk with the principal of the primary school. He escorted us through the beautiful, large hallways and we were able to peek into the classrooms which had metal and wood desks, pictures and decorations on the walls and glass windows. We talked in a small room adjacent to his office about Italian priests founding the school and the increasing cost of attendance. Our talks with the two principals confirmed what we learned about government-funded schools and what we learned from working with ADB: the Sierra Leonians have a robust appetite for education. It was apparent that the growing response to the demand for more schooling just was not able to keep up with the overwhelming demand.  While there is still a lot to be done, there is definitely a lot of very good forward movement.

Entrance to Holy Family School.

 

 

Classroom in Holy Family School

 

Entrance to Junior Secondary School.

       We finished our walk by going another half mile up to the next town, Wellington, where Moses lives and visiting a miniature version of Rio’s Christ the Redeemer at the top of the mountain. Standing up there and looking out on the villages and ocean below us was breathtaking and magnificent, not to mention the adorable goats that kept wanting to eat our fingers! To get back to the ADB school, we walked down a valley, cutting through more yards, hopping over a stream and climbing back up a steep hill to the school. Being able to walk through these towns was an experience that I believe gave us the proper frame of mind and textural understanding of the living conditions of the people were there to serve and it was an opportunity I feel so grateful to have experienced. Walking through all of these homes and markets, it was so apparent how privileged I have been to grow up the way that I have. To imagine my family, friends and neighbors having to walk three miles to the nearest medical facility that did not even have the full range of care, was almost impossible. At the simplest level, being able to use a stove within our kitchen as compared to building a coal fire outside to cook painted a new reality to me.  Yet, every single person we met was happy and joyful and beyond welcoming. Perspective is a wonderful thing, and I had the distinct privilege of gaining at least a little bit through this walk.

Christ the Redeemer in Sierra Leone.

 

 

 

Krishna, Syed, Rianna and Hannah in front of Christ the Redeemer.