Mama Jude: An Australian Nurse’s Extraordinary Other Life In Africa

Home > Other > Mama Jude: An Australian Nurse’s Extraordinary Other Life In Africa > Page 20
Mama Jude: An Australian Nurse’s Extraordinary Other Life In Africa Page 20

by Judy Steel


  After a huge welcome back from Bukenya and others at the hospital, Edward insisted I visit the rehabilitation centre, which was building a reputation as one of the better physiotherapy clinics in Kampala and being referred to patients from different parts of the city for treatment for back pain, cerebral palsy, fractures, dislocations and sports injuries. Although the centre is part of Edward’s hospital and not part of UACO, we did equip the facility so UACO clients could be treated free of charge, thanks to income received from paying patients.

  Once inside I was stunned to see Godfrey in his callipers and crutches moving haltingly across the room. The dear man was so determined to show me how he had progressed. Although he would never be able to properly walk he was able to move about, change his position and have some independence. He had also been able to get a small loan in conjunction with his sister and was selling charcoal at a roadside stall, but the previous Christmas he was struck down by a bad bout of malaria that claimed the life of his sister. Godfrey couldn’t manage the business alone and so sold it off to clear his debt. He was now back on track and at forty-four years old was ready to rebuild his life. His chest and arms were very strong and he could now haul himself up on callipers that not only help him avoid the sort of morbid conditions that can occur being wheelchair-bound, but also drew him up to eye level with other adults and increased his self-esteem.

  After the thrill of seeing Godfrey’s progress came the big news that Bosco had had successful surgery to reconnect his urinary system making a catheter unnecessary, plus he had a small business and no longer needed a walking stick. I was overwhelmed at this outcome. Apparently Bosco was somehow sponsored to have his surgery and UACO paid for the X-rays. The only sad part of the story was that his wife, Aisha, had gone off with another man and had a baby. Two of Bosco’s children were living with him and he had used a second small loan to set up a stall cooking and selling food, and on a good day he could earn four dollars. Edward told me many times that Godfrey and Bosco are the most successful stories of UACO and we must tell everyone about them.

  The clinic was bubbling along but the rain had turned the area between the two containers into a bog, so over the next few weeks it was concreted. I was delighted to see one of the women from the literacy class working among the young mums, selling the soap she makes as the result of a small loan. She had the brightest personality and chatted easily, encouraging the mamas. Persis suggested developing a young mothers club as many knew little about raising a child, managing a crisis or just the normal day-to-day things that young mums need to talk about. With about 130 mothers aged between fourteen and twenty-two on the books, many uneducated and illiterate, it seemed a more than worthwhile idea. The project took off and within months we had 800 mothers coming to the clinic for mothers club meetings each month.

  The literacy school was going so well that it needed to be expanded from two classes to three. The teacher, Paul Lutalo, had a degree in education and could have been employed in high schools but instead chose to work for UACO. Some of his students didn’t even know how to hold a pencil when they came into his classroom. As the number of students grew, we needed to find the money to pay Paul more and hire an assistant or risk losing him. The classrooms were so tightly packed that he literally couldn’t get around to help all the students individually, so we also needed more sessions to thin out the groups. There were suggestions too for a creche to take care of the little ones while their mothers were in class. As well as teaching the women and men to read and write, Paul brought in other UACO people to speak to the students about what they did, such as Herbert from rehabilitation, Bukenya from small loans, Persis, Edward and nurse Daniel Otieno, who was now full-time in the clinic.

  Daniel had replaced Ronald, who left UACO to follow his heart. In 2006 a young nurse from Sydney named Lara Shelton spent six months in Uganda with UACO. While becoming a dynamic part of the outreach, she also fell in love with Ronald. They returned to Australia together and married, and Ronald began studying at university for his Bachelor of Nursing.

  Daniel had been working for Edward in the Busabala Road Hospital and was a registered community nurse. It had long been a passion of his to work in the community setting so he moved across to the clinic. Born in Kenya to a Ugandan mother, his father had died and so Daniel was responsible for the education of his seven siblings. Despite this, his commitment to the clinic was extraordinary. One of the first things Daniel showed me was the boda-boda donated by Sue and Anthony, which he used on his evening runs.

  Although basics like food and fuel were more expensive since my last visit, anti-retroviral drugs for the treatment of AIDS were more readily available. The Mildmay clinic was now offering blood tests and then cheap or even free drugs. Some AIDS victims we were seeing were getting these drugs and they made such a difference because they allowed those suffering from AIDS to lead a more normal life. However, Mildmay was several kilometres away and involved money for transport which most did not have.

  At our first meeting I told everyone about receiving my award in the Order of Australia, explaining it was as much theirs as mine. They gave me a huge clap when they saw the photo. I also explained all about our AusAID grant, then shared my feelings of frustration and exclusion when in Australia by not hearing news such as ARVs becoming available and the youth drama/dance group coming first in their competition. It was really important to me that I didn’t have to wait two years to find out.

  When I finished, Edward gave the following summary of my talk and his reaction to it:

  1. We must work as a team.

  2. We must be ready to take on responsibility.

  3. Australia has shown that they love us and we must show others that we love them. (I nearly cried at this point.)

  4. Why should Judy be here? It is her love for us. (Nearly more tears.)

  5. We should do things for the very poor.

  6. This will lead to good governance because our youths are the future leaders of our country. If our youths learn about human rights and crime prevention they will become good leaders.

  Over time, without noticing it, my relationship with Edward and Rose changed. By some bitter experiences of the past I was often mistrustful of Ugandans, but Edward was so different that I would trust him with my life. Often, when things boiled up in me I would go straight to him and he was always understanding and acted where he could. Most days I would have lunch with Edward and Rose, and Rose would ply me with mounds of Ugandan food such as matoke, chapati, fish or chicken and peanut sauce; she always said I was not to lose one kilogram while in Uganda. I really enjoyed those breaks with them. We understood each other’s senses of humour better as the years went on and so often there were deep belly laughs over lunch.

  The HIV/AIDS group had grown and now included many men. At our first meeting I was so proud of them when they reported that none of them had died in the time I had been away. One of the reasons they were so well was because of the food supplement being provided by the clinic in the form of a soy and millet porridge which was high in protein and carbohydrate.

  One of the most enthusiastic was Pauline. A beautiful and confident woman, both she and her partner, Johnson, have AIDS. Pauline regularly volunteered in the community to spread the word about the disease. She would wear one of the special t-shirts provided by UACO to be easily identified and talk to anyone and everyone about how not to contract it and what to do if you had. She brought me to tears when I asked her why she had enrolled at the adult literacy class and she replied that she wanted to be able to write her own name before she died.

  After one meeting, Pauline approached me and said she wanted to be married by a minister in a church before I left. I was so excited. We quickly agreed to host the reception at UACO in three weeks time. Her friends arranged to ‘dress’ the bride and with everyone at UACO contributing a small amount we would be able to pay for some samosas, soft drinks and a wedding cake.

  Frank had been working as Edward’s driver for
three years. A small man in his late twenties with a beautiful gentle manner, Frank was a pastor at his local church. He would often pick me up and take me places when I was too tired to walk. In soothing tones he would chat to me, telling me how God loved me and was using me in Africa. It was impossible to put a price of what that meant to me. He also announced he intended marrying the love of his life, Esther. She was simply gorgeous and had the loveliest giggle, and sometimes when she got started laughing she couldn’t stop. They had set an ‘introduction day’ date, traditionally when the woman introduces her intended to everyone in her family and the man pays the dowry.

  Esther’s dowry list was budgeted at over one million shillings (about A$750) and started with a cow and finished with a suitcase. Everyone (including his best friend and the church committee) assists paying the dowry. In a way it is the African version of a bridal registry, and so I paid for a goat. I also did my UACO bit and gave him and Esther some family planning advice.

  Frank had been seconded along with the hospital ambulance during CHOGM, which was held at the best hotel in town for four days and nights. Apparently, although some other ambulances look very fancy they don’t have anything like the insides of ours: oxygen, a bed you can lift out, a fire extinguisher and a strong engine. Although Frank had no medical training, that was not uncommon. In Uganda ambulances are basically only for transporting patients between hospitals, or from hospital to house in rural areas. Frank told me he had to wear a special uniform for the occasion, and to prove it he came to collect me one morning in the ambulance wearing it.

  ‘Shall I put the siren on for you, Mama Jude?’ he asked.

  As much as I wanted him to, I said, ‘Perhaps just when we get to the hospital.’ It was an added bonus that UACO received a large financial payment for the hire during CHOGM.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I HAD BEEN IN Uganda less than a fortnight when Fred Wilson’s arrival from Australia caused great excitement, especially for Edward, who finally met the man he had been corresponding with for years. Rose turned on a lovely lunch which began with Frank offering a moving welcoming prayer for Fred. He was then treated like royalty by everyone at the hospital and clinic. Bukenya and Fred particularly hit it off, which was lucky given the number of hours they then spent together discussing how best to record and present information for AusAID accurately and professionally. Fred was handed two shopping bags full of documents by Bukenya for auditing. It was delightful having Fred helping, and jobs that often had taken me weeks only took us a couple of days. Fred stayed with me at the hostel. Because he had been involved with UACO since 2001 he had seen all the photos and video and heard my stories so was prepared for what he saw around him. He was excited to personally experience what he had heard about, especially the walking clinics, which he enthused were what UACO was all about.

  Edward had organised big signs reading ‘UACO is an AusAID sponsored project’, following the procurement manual to the letter. Everything purchased for more than 50,000 shillings was paid by cheque and for any expenditures over a million shillings he got three quotes and tried for the best quality. Mosquito nets had gone up in price since we put in the application so were only able to buy about 600 instead of 950.

  When not busy with the books, Fred was introduced to Ugandan-style worship. The first service we went to featured twenty minutes of uplifting choral singing followed by a sermon based on Romans 12, where Paul writes of the practicalities of love: Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another.

  Along with the reminder of spirituality came the reality of the cheapness of life. We heard news of a boarding school eight kilometres out of Kampala where a dormitory caught fire and girls were locked in. The power had gone off and it was believed the blaze began with charcoal or candles lit for light. More than twenty died. Edward’s son Kenneth used to go there and it is recognised as one of the best schools in Uganda, having been set up by the king in the 1800s. Edward was truly distressed and grieving; his friend is the headmaster and often brought sick children to the hospital for treatment.

  The small loans had mostly been used to start piggeries or cafés to date, but new ideas were springing up. One widow rented a tiny space under a shop verandah across the road from the hospital where she set up an alterations business. With a treadle sewing machine squeezed into her working area of about one square metre, sometimes she made clothes and hung them on the fence for sale but mostly she did mending. Before I left Australia, a woman from my church in Port Elliot, Sue Smith, celebrated her sixtieth birthday. Instead of spending money on a party, Sue said she wanted to make a difference for another woman in need and proposed buying a sewing machine and perhaps providing lessons for someone in Uganda. When I mentioned this to Edward and Persis they burst out laughing: before I arrived they had been talking about expanding the functional literacy class by having sewing machines and the like.

  With Sue’s donation plus a donation from one of Iva Quarisa’s friends in Griffith we bought three treadle sewing machines, while UACO paid for a folding table to cut fabric on plus scissors, pins and needles. The students from all walks of life supplied their own material and thread and paid a small amount toward the teacher’s salary. It evolved there were three tailors among the HIV/AIDS group so they were hired to teach the others. This truly put the ‘function’ into functional adult literacy, which was very exciting.

  While some of those who received loans acted cautiously, others showed an entrepreneurial zeal. One was Ruth, who had been part of UACO since its inception and was the first secretary of the widows group. Her small mud brick house was one street back from a very busy road, and she used her loan to have the water put on. She had a stand pipe with a lock on it and sold water to her neighbours; Ugandans are often so poor that a basic thing like running water is a luxury. Ruth would deliver buckets or containers of water for a small fee. With her profits she extended her house and began renting a room out, then she bought a cow and was keen to add chickens. Her long-term plan was to move the cow to the rural village she came from, knock down what is now her cowshed and build a house to rent out (in Uganda a house often consists of just one or two rooms). She also had about five square metres of land which the widows wanted to rent to build a shelter for storing a truckload of charcoal, which they would sell off in smaller amounts. With the help of the extra money she had been earning, Ruth had been paying for her children’s education. Two had now graduated from university and had jobs.

  It was such a joy to see Bosco fit and well and working at his business. I was elated when he hugged me. What a colossal miracle from when I first found him bed-bound with pus pouring from infected sinuses in his legs, a urinary catheter draining into a bucket, unable to stand or do anything for himself. Then there seemed no hope of a better life, but now he moved freely and had a job cooking and selling food. In a bitter twist, someone stole his three charcoal cooking pots so he was reduced to cooking at home with a wooden fire. Despite this, he looked happy and well and had plans to expand his business by taking out a bigger loan.

  Another individual donation from home had played a part in developing the micro-loan scheme. Viv Maskill from Melbourne, who had visited Uganda a few years before, sent money earmarked for the widows’ education. We used the money for some infrastructure and a training day, organising a trip to the Katende Harambe Rural Urban Training Centre. This gave everyone a course in poultry, animal husbandry, horticulture, tree planting, animal fodder and biogas production. The information included specifics such as using cassava juice to make cement for house bricks, how to save water and using human and animal waste to generate methane gas for electricity.

  Inspired, we organised a demonstration project for keeping chickens. The HIV/AIDS group put in the equivalent of $1.50 each which, combined with my donated money from Veronica Cullen of Victor Harbour, bought fifty day-old chicks. They were raised and sold at seven weeks old. There is a huge market for poultry in the
street markets of Kampala, where chicks are bought by farmers who have larger farms and can run hens. This project was remarkable because it brought the HIV/AIDS group together to become responsible for raising the chickens. They all contributed a little money towards the cost of establishing it and then all took turns in caring for the chicks and repaying the loan. Some became so proficient that they applied for an individual loan to set up their own chick-raising business.

  I found the work days exhausting. Every night I was weary but struggled to sleep and my Parkinson’s was on the increase as a result of the stress and sleep deprivation. Iva had arrived two weeks after Fred and it was wonderful having them with me, and I wasn’t the only one who appreciated their company. Paul Latolo from the youth group said that as I was called Mama Jude, Fred should be Taata Fred, meaning father. Fred had a huge smile on his face all day.

  Clinic mornings were always busy. The mothers and babies started arriving before 9.30 and the line was still long at 1.30 pm. Fred helped give out jumpers he had brought with him which disappeared in no time. Many asked for a bigger size, which was a wonderful confirmation that the babies were healthy and fat.

  The HIV/AIDS support group members all introduced themselves to Fred by individually stating that they were HIVpositive. They were eager for projects they could do as a group, such as learning how to make cakes and ribbon decorations, important for special events in Uganda (for example, the man at an introduction or wedding wears a huge artificial ribbon flower in his buttonhole).

 

‹ Prev