One of the girls from the workshop and me after she attempted to teach me to use a sewing machine.
One group of girls making their first pad samples.
The first full pad kit! (I love the colors)
My entire pad-making team right after I picked them!
Pads for Progress is going really well! We had our pad-making workshop last Thursday and all thirty of the girls were able to make kits on their own by the end of the day. My good friend Emma (the pad-making expert) came in to help lead the session, considering I know nothing about sewing, and she did a fabulous job. The business enterprise workshop the next day was also great. My friend Steve who works with microfinance groups all over Kakamega came in to lead it and really got the girls excited about the market potential for their product.
After the workshop I viewed the samples of all thirty girls and then picked the eight most diligent and best pad-makers to comprise of my pad-making team. All eight girls were really enthusiastic about the project and when I went back yesterday to see how much they have accomplished I was blown away by how hard and fast they are working. Some of the girls even shyly asked if they could make some reusable pads for themselves and their sisters and one teacher asked if I would make a reusable pad kit for each of her daughters.
During the workshops there was one girl who was always the first to offer to sew something, to ask a question, and to offer one of my colleagues or me a seat. I immediately respected this girl’s tremendous work ethic and general jovial manner. I knew right away I wanted her on the team. Then during our lunch break on the second day of workshops this girl asked me if she could talk to me privately in the other room for a minute. She looked as if she was about to tear up so I said of course and she quickly led me into another room.
She said, “I need to show you something that makes me really sad.” After checking to make sure no one else was around, she lifted up her skirt to reveal a bizarre looking rash/ pigmentation change on her thigh.
“What is this?” she asked me, obviously trusting in the stereotype that all white people over in Kenya are doctors here to help people with medical issues. I told her I had no idea and that I was not by any means a doctor and that she should probably go to the hospital to have it checked out. Images of Kaposi’s Syndrome and Melanoma were flashing through my head. She said that the hospital did not know what it was and could not test her further unless she paid them more money which she did not have.
The girl then went on to describe the constant pain she feels in her leg as well as in her chest and the fact that her eye sight seemed to be deteriorating. I asked her quietly if she had ever had an HIV test and she responded in a whisper that she had not and did not need one. AIDS is rarely spoken about here. Then she asked me in a chillingly calm voice, “Am I going to die?”
I immediately said no, thinking this girl is only sixteen! Then I thought about the fact that my host family had already lost two out of their eight children and that two girls living with our family are their because they have been orphans for most of their lives.
“Can you help me please?” she asked.
I felt directly responsible for this girl. I had no idea what was on her leg or how serious it was but this girl was putting her health in my hands and I had no idea what to do. As much as I wanted to get involved and take her immediately to get an HIV test, I wondered if I would be the one that she wanted beside her when she got that test (I had only known her about two weeks) and if I was capable of helping her cope with the results.
I told her I would do some research and come back the next day. When I went back she started crying and telling me she was in even more pain that day and being able to see the blackboard was becoming impossible. She sobbed asking me, “Do you know if I am going to die yet?” I told her I thought she would be okay but that I wanted to bring a doctor who worked for ACCES to see her. She did not like this idea which seemed strange to me.
Later I found out from some coworkers that this girl had lived with her impoverished parents until one day the girl’s mother had come home to find her father with another woman and simply left the family. Besides sexually abusing the girl, the father had no need for a daughter so she too was forced to leave. She went to live with a more financially stable lady who earned her living as a prostitute. Soon this lady’s lifestyle grew on the girl and she quickly became pregnant. This girl knew she could not raise this baby and that being a single mother in Kenya is very difficult so, being that abortion is illegal in Kenya, she induced an abortion on her own by taking local herbs.
I was shocked by this story and could hardly believe that this girl was the same girl who I had been working with. My coworkers suggested that possibly the abortion or her previous lifestyle had something to do with her rash. I went back to the school and asked the girl if there was anything else that she wanted to tell me about herself and her past so that I could help her and she just looked down and the floor and said really quietly, “It is very bad at home.”
I am bringing the doctor from ACCES with me today to go see her again and to check in on the further progress on the pads. The hard work, dedication, and enthusiasm of some of these girls, in spite of the many difficulties that life has presented to them, has been truly inspiring. I would have never guessed that girl was suffering in the way that she was had she not pulled me aside to ask me whether or not she was going to die.
People here have warned all of us not to get too involved with people like this girl because you might find yourself constantly paying doctor bills and taking her to the hospital. I totally understand this reasoning. However, I have to wonder, how involved is too involved? How can you turn away from a person who so clearly needs help that you may be able to provide? Would if whatever this girl has is curable but without medical treatment she will die? Who wants that on their conscience? As young and naive as I might be, I find myself also wondering, are we simply being realistic to think that we can't help everyone, or are we selling ourselves short?
Stories like that are simultaneously horrifying and inspiring; horrifying that at 16-year-old girl could be going through that, and inspiring that she manages to remain a diligent worker and generally jovial.
ReplyDeleteSince my host mother is a social worker, I know that there are systems in place that are designed to help children in this girl's situation. Sometimes, resolving these issues is simply a matter of mustering up the courage to reach out for help. In my opinion, the strangest and worst part of the girl's story is her hesitance to meet with the ACCES doctor and her hesitance to get tested for HIV. I think you can do her and the other girls a great service by talking to them - either privately or in a group - about what resources are available to them and how they should never hesitate to reach out to resources they have.
As for your last questions - working in a hospital, there are people whom I see every day that I would like nothing more than to give money to. It's difficult to say no to someone, especially in matters of health. But I want to give my opinion on the answer to your question - yes, we CAN help everyone! The only thing is, giving out money is not the way to do it. It might be the easiest way, sure, but these issues go way beyond your and my experiences or this girl. The question really is - do you want to help this girl, or do you want to help everyone like this girl?
You might be thinking - what harm could come of helping this girl individually, regardless of the bigger picture? This is a question I seek to answer in the article I am composing that we spoke about. There are harms. By stepping in and helping this girl individually, you are freeing the people who should actually be taking care of her - her family, her community, her school, her government, and most importantly, HERSELF - of their responsibilities, and they become transferred onto you.
I'll give you a broad example - consider that there are many NGOs and governments who supply free HIV treatment to the Kenyan people. Given the magnitude of the epidemic, free HIV treatment should be provided by the Kenyan government itself, but it's not. In effect, donated HIV treatment is much like you helping this girl individually - it alleviates the problem for some specific people but does nothing to address the problem at its root. Now imagine if the free drugs were stopped - hundreds of thousands would suffer and die. It would be horrible. But whose "fault" would it be considered?
You can bet that the international community would blame the NGOs and foreign governments that chose to stop their donations for the deaths of all those people, not the Kenyan government itself. Isn't it interesting to see how the Kenyan government would escape responsibility? By stepping in and helping "just this once," you create the expectation that you and people like you are responsible for helping girls like her. This is not the case, and it is detrimental to the long-term development we are trying to achieve here.
But your solution to the problem was, in my opinion, absolutely appropriate. By bringing in the ACCES doctor, the girl will learn what resources she has and will learn that she can solve her own problems without the help of a "muzungu."