Greeting us as we arrived in the compound. Josephine Dako, the MWB Zambian Staff member who led us on our visits.
This day we went to the Chazaga Community. It is in a compound in the suburbs of Lusaka, it is basically a slum. There is a CBO (community based organization) called Bwafwano in Chazaga. It was founded by a Mrs. Cholo. They have 5 or 6 classroom buildings, training for men and women, feeding program and home based care.
The compound
They have around 35 volunteer case workers who cover 5-10 homes each. These case workers have 9 months of training. They help the community members get the services they need.
The center of the compound is surrounded by two thatched buildings where different classes are held. There are other buildings that house other schoolrooms and clinics. We did not take pictures in the housing areas but the one of the photos helps you see what it was like. The houses (hovels) are here and there with dirt paths winding between them. The bathrooms are holes in the ground, usually surrounded by grain sacks draped on one another and held up by whatever they can get to hold them up.
The Bwafwano program faces big challenges, with some walking 5 or 6 miles during the rainy season to get to the center compound. They feed 500-600 kids a day, and that is often the only meal these kids get in a day. 70 percent of the kids are orphans.
An HIV mother can nurse her baby for 6 months before the baby becomes infected with HIV. A mother sometimes faces the choice of starving her baby or having her baby become ill. The formula costs $8 every other day, $8 that the mother may simply not have.
The people here live very close to the city and they are very aware of what the rest of the world has.
We arrived at the compound to many waves and greetings from the children. We were ushered into a room in one of the buildings to be introduced to the people who were running Bwafwano and to hear about the program.
After hearing about the program we were split into groups and each group went with a social worker to meet one or two of their patients. We were simply accompanying them on their usual round of that day. Josephine went with us to interpret if necessary. The first patient we visited in her home was a mother of four who is being treated for TB, STD and has a badly swollen leg. Her mother greeted us in the outer room of the home. I wish I could give you the picture I have in my mind of this. There was no door on the home. It is a cement building, probably only 2 rooms, maybe 3. We stepped inside the dirt floor room where there were a couple of chairs for us to sit in, others of us stood. A dirty cloth hung on the inside door where the grandmother came out, a couple of the little children in dirty clothes were peeking out at us from behind the cloth. They were really cute. Rather than feel it was an invasive of us to be there, she seemed to be honored by our visit. She came forward and shook each of our hands. Josephine explained to us the daughter's problems.
After we sat down, a girl who looked no more than 16 came painfully and slowly out and shook my hand. It seems she is way more than 16, she is the mother of four children. Her husband abandoned her when she became ill. ( The men are missing for a great part, one of the things they do is go to the bars, such as they are, and drink. Some use a drug called dogga, made out of dog excrement.)
We had the daughter sit in the chair and we talked to her through Josephine. She asked us to say a prayer for her, all she wants is to get better to be able to work and give her children food. We sang her two songs or rather the rest of the group did, I joined in on one - Really!
After leaving her home we walked over barren soil in the dusty winds, going this way and that, up and down until we reached the other patient we were to see. This was an elderly man lying outside on a dirty blanket and pillow under a tree. He also lived in a cement block house, we did not go in this house, but there were several children who came out and hovered around the doorway grinning at us. There was a chair and a couple of low stools for us to sit on. I started to take a stool but Josephine motioned to me to take the chair. She said,"It is a tradition in our culture that the bigger (older) person gets the best seat." Most of this conversation was in their language. He lives with his grandchildren and his grandchildren-two, I think- and his daugher in his eldest sister's home. I don't remember what his illness was. After visiting him we walked back to the center of the compound.
Everyone returned from their visits, and some visits were much more difficult than ours. The children were gathered in the center of the compound to play games with us. We had soccer balls, jump ropes, books and games to play. I started out with the books, some kids were interested at first, but this is the only site we visited that the books didn't hold their attention. At all the other sites, the books were devoured and the kids loved listening to stories. After awhile I just put the books in the bus and wandered around taking photos. I wasn't up for playing soccer. But the camera was a huge draw. The kids loved me taking their photo and then showing it to them. They giggled and laughed when they saw their own photo. Such a simple thing, but very entertaining. The kids had a great time with the volunteers playing all kinds of games.
I took photos of all the activities, one of our volunteers taught an art class, another taught a knitting class. There were ladies in one of the thatched roof buildings selling some of their handiwork. I bought several pair of earrings.
The kids loved having their picture taken and then giggled when they looked at it.
The art class led by one of our volunteers. The community schoolroom.
At lunch time, the children were served a soy porridge. This might be their only meal of the day.
The kids lined up around a corner and were served by the ladies in the back making and serving the porridge. The kids were each handed a plastic dish and a lady sat by a huge cauldron with a tin cup and poured the porridge onto their plates. The kids took their plates and went to the classroom to eat. I watched the women "clean" the plates under an outside cold water faucet.
Serving porridge and lining up for lunch.
Washing out the dishes under the cold water faucet. Beautiful faces.
Liz with the lady who wanted to switch shirts.
Liz, a MWB volunteer, came by while I was there and one of the women asked if she could have her shirt. We were told this would happen. Liz said no, she was very sorry but she couldn't. The lady said it was so beautiful. Liz told her that her own shirt was far more beautiful than the t-shirt Liz had on. And it was.
We finally left, with the kids mobbing the bus, dangerously so but Chiphus managed not to run over anyone.
On to Grandma's house. Last year they found out Grandma was living in a primitive tent made of grain sacks. MWB built her a cement house. Every year they visit her and sometimes she comes out and sometimes she doesn't. We got lucky, she was very glad to see us and had a good time with everyone. MWB bought her a bed. They said she laid down on it for the first time and looked like Cleopatra. Her house is two rooms, full but organized. Out back there are two grain sack structures, one is the wash up place and the other is the toilet. Eight people live here, one of her grandson's was there, he had been struck by lightening in December, in his back and out his elbow. It looked pretty bad, lots of scar tissue.
Grandma's new house and Grandma with Josephine.
The inside of Grandma's house and the bed MWB got for grandma.
The washing shelter and the toilet shelter.
After leaving Grandma's house we went to the fabric store. Talk about contrasts. This is in a modern mall and have many well-to-do Indian Indian patrons. I walked in and spotted the fabric for my dress, I also bought fabric for a wrap around skirt and pj pants, they all turned out beautifully. Kind of strange to go from a slum to this.
Every act of love is a work of peace, no matter how small. It's not what we do but how much love we put into it. Mother Teresa
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