Bahir Dar

Sam is 9 years old. He is an ordinary boy (meaning he loves football!) living in the north of Ethiopia. One night, his home is attacked because he and his family are from a different tribe. They murder his father. He and his mother and 2 younger brothers are forced to flee their home. They find transport on a truck. As the truck is fleeing the area, it crashes. The truck rolls on top of Sam, causing serious injuries, and resulting in him losing both his right arm and right leg. He also suffers significant trauma to the left leg, and will require surgery to correct the subsequent deformity. I met Sam (not his real name), in an outreach clinic in Bahir Dar earlier this week, about a year after the crash. His mother brought him to the clinic, along with his younger brothers. What struck me when they walked in, was how cheerful they all seemed, despite Sam’s obvious problems. He was “walking” with a cumbersome, heavy prosthetic leg, missing an arm, and with obvious deformity of his remaining leg. But he grinned as he sat down, and his younger brothers happily engaged in whatever distractions were offered to them. They told us about the accident, but they only relayed the rest of their story when they met with the pastor from Cure (Mesfin) afterwards. Mesfin comes to the clinics to meet with the families and help with counselling, arranging financial help for travel to, and staying in Addis, and generally being a shoulder to cry on. He is kind and patient and wise (and plays the guitar very well too!).

Please pray for Sam and his family. They hope to be able to get to Addis for the surgery he requires, but it means a stay of around 2 months at Cure Hospital. The mother needs to come with Sam, which means finding someone to look after her other boys. There is some hope that Sam may be able to get a better prosthetic leg from a charity in the States, but there are multiple logistics and finances to be sorted out. Sam is by no means an isolated example either. It is estimated that millions have been killed, seriously injured and/or displaced from their homes as a result of the conflict here. The team at Cure have seen several children with severe injuries directly related to the war, and they are likely to see many more in the coming months as they filter down to Addis. Please also pray for Mesfin and the spiritual ministry team here at Cure. They do an amazing, but exhausting job – looking after patients, and the staff, on a daily basis. Mesfin is also compiling teaching material on the “theology of disability”, which he has begun to deliver to church pastors. The hope is to change perceptions about the value and worth of those with disability, and also change the assumption that bad things happen because of something you have done.

The Bahir Dar clinic ran very similarly to the clinic in Jimma. It was busy, crazy at times, exhausting, rewarding, interesting, fun, sad, draining, and uplifting…. if you get what I mean. I loved spending more time with the Cure team, and getting to know more of them better. It was especially fun to hang out with some of the nurses. We had Wednesday morning free, so went out on a boat trip on Lake Tana (the biggest lake in Ethiopia), to a couple of the islands. It was lovely to get out in the fresh air and enjoy being on the water. It felt very relaxing after the previous few days. Bahir Dar is renown as the most beautiful city in Ethiopia. It is certainly “happily situated” on the shores of Lake Tana, and at the source of the Blue Nile. The Vice President of Ethiopia was visiting while we were there, so there were gazillions of soldiers around, all with big guns. One morning in the hospital, a troop of soldiers marched a group of “prisoners” past us on the stairs. Apparently guns are just a part of life in rural Ethiopia. I attended the morning briefing for the trainee doctors each day while in Bahir Dar, and 90% of the cases they presented started off with “History – gun shot wound, resulting in shattered bones (paraphrased!)” – accompanied by lovely photos of said wound. Most of them happened at weddings (where it is tradition to fire guns in the air – although not always very accurately it turns out!)

I can’t believe I only have 2 weeks left here. The time has flown by. My flat mate, Dorothy, has already left. It feels very different without her around. Last weekend, we went to “Friendship Square” on the Friday, and then the National Museum (where the “Lucy” skeleton is on display) and then out for dinner on her final day (Saturday) before she flew out on Sunday – the same day I went to Bahir Dar. It was great having Dorothy around. She dragged me out to do things with her, so I didn’t just sit and work all the time! And it was nice to have the company. She is currently at the Cure Hospital in Malawi, and will shortly be heading to the Cure Hospital in the Philippines to spend another 3 months there.

Life carries on at Cure meantime. I saw a 7 year old with untreated clubfoot in the gait lab yesterday. He didn’t speak Amharic, so we had to go through a chain of interpretation. I said something in English, which Selomon then translated into Amharic, which the patient’s friend then translated into his local language. He then answered, and the translation went back up the chain. I have no idea what he was told in the end, and how closely it resembled what I originally said! But we muddled through somehow. This afternoon I’ve been invited to Dr Tim’s house along with others from Cure. Tomorrow will be church at St Matthews as usual, and possibly a BBQ at Dr Laurence’s house :). Next week is looking busy as they are trying to cram several patients in before I go. The following week (my final week here) there is a course for spine surgery running, including visitors from the UK (one of whom I know well), so that should be fun.