Maybe its the third world

Siteki, Swaziland,
25/04/09
13:07

Paul Simon sounds better in Africa than anywhere else in the world.

The sounds of 'diamonds on the soles of her shoes' and 'you can call me al' have meant so much to me while I've driven the long Swazi roads that connect this country like a shining wide black river from mountain top to mountain top.

There is a line in 'You can call me Al' which has always spoken to me.

"A man walks down the street. Its a street in a strange world. Maybe its the third world? Or maybe its his first time around.

As I drive each day from the confines of our hospital nestled on top of the Lebombo mountains into the deep Swazi wilderness, finding homestead after homestead consisting of little huts... sometimes with a floor, sometimes without. Sometimes with a roof made of a sheet of iron or thatched leaves and sticks, sometimes without one at all. Finding young men and women dying alone, usually without food, usually ostracised from their communities due to the stigma surrounding their illness.

As I find little children running households on their own. Trying to feed one another, clothe one another.... Attempting to forget the deep void that the loss of their parents has left and live just one day at a time....

What strikes me, is not so much the rift between developed and developing world cultures....

What strikes me is how similar we truly are.

Children are children whereever you go. If they dont have enough money for a swing, they make one with rags. If they cant play with a soft toy, they find things in the rubbish - like an old rusted wheel to occupy their imaginations and need for little joys.

Men and women care about the self-same things that 'we' care about. About providing for their children, about trying to find purpose in their lives and live fully, without the encumbrances of illness and poverty.

And yet, somewhere in our collective imagination, we have created worlds within worlds. Third worlds and first worlds. Worlds where it is not ok for even one child to die and other worlds where a child dies every 3 seconds and no one blinks an eyelid.

Last evening after work, I was visiting a young friend at the hospital. He is awaiting surgery next week and we went across to play a game of cards.

As I was returning to my car, I saw a young 26 year old girl lying on a stretcher in the corridor.

She was desperately short of breath. We spoke to her mother and found out that she was HIV positive and had been just seen by the doctor on call. He had asked for her to be admitted as she was clearly in a critical condition. However the hospital was 'full'. So they would have to return home.

She told us " Dokotella, I'm too tired to breathe anymore."

It was clear that this girl was in severe distress and on the verge of respiratory failure and death. We spent the next half an hour pleading with the nursing staff and hospital admin to admit this girl while she still had a chance. Eventually we succeeded and I was glad to hear this morning that she made it safely through the night.

The fact that a girl can be left to die in a corridor without oxygen or care seems heartless and cruel to us. But I have to wonder if my hands are clean in all of this.

The African hospital system does what it can with the very minimal resources which it is afforded.

On the whole it does a wonderful job, given the depth and breadth of the problems which it faces.

However the fact is that there is more disease and death in this continent than any single hospital can cope with.

The world has stood back for so many years and allowed human life to become expendable in Africa and the developing world.

I hear of words like 'compassion fatigue'.... And I have to tell you that the concept nauseates me. That we who have so much can even contemplate tiring of reaching out to those of our human family who have absolutely nothing, is absolutely incomprehensible to my little brain.

I know that if we were face to face with these people. If we could only see their humility, their dignity, the immensity of their love and kindness in the midst of the deepest sorrow imaginable... Then there would be never a hospital in Africa so full that it cannot find room for a dying young girl. There would never be a day when I am out with homebased care team, that we would run out of food or medicine, to give to a needy family.

I am grateful for everyone who reads these words. Who dares to take the people of the world into their heart, and act from love and compassion.

I know that if you walked down the streets of Siteki, you would see what i have found.... That this is not the third world.

Its just our first time around.

From Siteki with love,

Maithri