The Beginning

Had my handwriting ‘read’ by the local Philippino VSO volunteer over the weekend. She says it shows I am chatty, manage people well, enjoy others company, they enjoy mine, I am optimistic but … I get ahead of myself. I need to slow down. I need to be patient.

“Especially with your career,” she added.

Food for thought.

The Beginning

Whilst Laura and I are located here within the Luwawa area of Malawi, we intend to throw ourselves into as much as possible. Today was the beginning of our input into the area after our initial acclimatisation.

Danny

My day began with the gentle 1km walk down road, across woodland, marshland and in between a few wooden shacks on my soon to be daily walk to primary school at Luwawa. Whilst having half my mind on black and green mambas, puff adders, monkeys, and other possible distractions of the environment the other half was wondering what to expect of a day at the school. What would the children make of me? Would the staff be pleased to meet a new member of the team? What time is lunch?

I met the deputy head teacher in the front yard of the school. We met with the usual greeting of any Malawian. In English:

“Hello!”
“Hi, how are you?”
“I’m fine, how are you?”
“Fine”

Every meet goes this way, however old or young the people involved. He said he had heard about me and was happy to show me the ropes. Great! I had mentioned to the head teacher that I planned to observe a few lessons to familiarise myself with the format before I began working myself. The deputy agreed that I could do this.

Following a 30-something-year old bearded Malawian gentlemen into the third classroom along a single-story brick building he explained that I could watch his mathematics lesson with Standard 7 (equivalent to year 5 at home). The class has 11 to 16 year old children, the reason being – you must pass each standard to move onward.

The class started slowly. The objective to ‘Write Numbers as Words” was written on the board and away they went. The teacher, clearly reciting the ‘Teachers Guide’, seemed confident in what he was doing. After a small explanation he let the children loose answering 6 questions. Some got it, others didn’t. Either way it didn’t matter too much to Albert, the teacher. He observed from the front to ensure they were working, waited a few minutes, then announced
“Feel free Hemmings, you will assist with the marking, right?”
“Erm…”
Before I got my words out, he was out the door explaining something about needing to teach the class next door.
I completed the lesson for him, expecting him to return. He did, but only to chuck in a few English books and tell me that break was at 9! Crikey!

English was interesting. Basically it’s just comprehension. Almost impossible for most, for although I read the story and gave them chance to read it themselves, their grasp of English is just not yet good enough to get the words and the meaning and add them together. I decided that the allotted 35 minutes wouldn’t be sufficient for this one and we began acting the story out. The kids thought it was hilarious that their teacher would act as a character in their story, but a good 75% of them managed to go on and answer their questions correctly.

I feel exposure to lots of well spoken English and a lot of patience are the vital ingredients. According to my Philippino friend, I need more patience. But I speak English well. Right?

Laura

After leaving Danny and many excited children shouting ‘Mazungu! Mazungu!’ to each other, I made my way to the small health centre close by. The centre consists of two small rooms; one for dressing wounds and the other with a table covered in drugs and needles: the main assessment room!

The first patient soon made his way into the clinic. There was no organisation of calling patients in… they just appear through the door and hand over their ‘passports to health’. This small book contains all of their past medical information as clearly there is nowhere for this to be securely documented and kept within the surgery.

This patient proceeded to describe to me, in the local language, his symptoms. It became a bit of a game of charades and I just about managed to make out that he had a bad head and chest. I must say that I was very grateful when Lucky, the health practitioner, returned to the room and continued with the assessment. It turned out that he actually had problems passing stools… I wasn’t even close! I was rather shocked with the manner of this appointment. Following a short exchange of words, Lucky reached straight for the drugs and handed them to the patient in a small bag. This continued for each and every patient that entered the room: no real assessment, just a quick, at times questionable, diagnosis and treatment.

I later learned that the health practitioners working within these villages were being rushed through their training by the government and were only spending two years studying before being in charge of the health for everybody in the area! I understand that the desperate need for the care may warrant this but these people surely require a greater depth and more knowledgeable care.. it makes me grateful for the NHS and the care we receive (and that really is saying something!)

I had one really shocking moment of the day. A mother brought in a clearly sick and distressed baby of about two months old who was struggling to breath and severely malnourished! It turned out that not only had the mother been told that it was vital for her to attend the clinic for regular checks as the baby had been losing significant weight since birth, but also this baby had been unable to breath for the past five days and only now had the mother decided it was time to bring the child to the surgery. It only got worse…..

Lucky gave the baby two injections which of course led to much screaming and advised the mother that he had severe pneumonia, malaria and was in need of desperate nourishment. It was therefore of vital importance that he was taken to the hospital immediately to receive significant care and oxygen. An ambulance was called for them but the mother was refusing to take the child. I struggle to understand how any mother, whatever the situation, can show such lack of care for her literally dying baby and the situation, honestly, brought me close to tears!

After morning surgery had finished, the nurse, Patricia, came along and took me for a tour of the maternity unit where two expectant mothers and their guardians were basking in the Malawi sunshine. I addressed them with a typical ‘hello’ and received four blank faces staring back at me. I progressed to attempt some of the local language and tried ‘monille’ instead, for which I received four broad smiles and a round of applause. I think I will have to work on my knowledge of the local language and plan to improve this skill throughout the next 6 months and may even return home fluent in Tambuka!

So overall a varied first day of laughter and extreme shock and sadness! I now look forward to getting really hands on with some physiotherapy and, hopefully, making a real difference in the area!


I just read this blog back, maybe the handwriting analysis was wrong. Negativity is high!

However prepared for our work, nothing can prepare you for how poor not only the people but the institutions of Malawi really are.