I was all ready to tell you about my first ever motorcycle ride and how the driver kept laughing at my cries about going too fast and forewarnings about speed bumps... it's a good story, but something happened today that completely eclipses the fun moments here.
Today I was feeding Mary lunch when Sister asked if she could see me. It turns out another child was brought to the orphanage. It is a girl and, although she looks to be about 1-1/2 months old, she is 6 months old. She is completely malnourished and sick. Here is her story:
Gmarlia was born in July in a village in the northern region of Ghana. She was born healthy, but had a lot of problems with colic and intestinal issues. Her mother's milk never really came in and so the tribe began to think that maybe Gmarlia was bad. A short time later, a healthy child died. The reason for this unfortunate death could be anything, but the tribe firmly believed that Gmarlia, at six months old, killed the baby. She was immediately condemned to death.
Sister Stan received a phone call from a local priest last night. Fr. Joseph told Sister that he had a child for her. She said we are still trying to settle from the last group of kids that came, we really cannot take another at the moment. He begged her, please, please they will kill her otherwise. Sister told Fr. Joseph that if he saves the baby, she will take her in. Father drove 2-1/2 hours to the village and arrived just in time to save Gmarlia. He brought the baby, the mother and the father's brother to the orphanage. It was actually the father's brother that reported the tribe's decision to end the life of his niece.
While Sister was getting the information from the mother, it came to light that this family, this tribe is Christian. In fact, the mother's cousin is a Catholic priest living in Rome. He was the one to call Fr. Joseph and beg him into action to save this baby. Sisters request of me... to take the baby and her mother to the Yendi hospital.
So, all of this information I have just heard is bubbling up in my head as I race around gathering clothes, as the mother dressed the baby in rags to bring her here, a bottle and formula, as the mother had no milk to nurse the baby, money, as the family never got health insurance for this child so everything we did today we had to pay for, etc, and I am almost in a tear-searing rage about this family, this tribe and how they were going to end the life of this angel.
Then, I was sitting in the car in the back seat with them, next to the mother, and it was so surreal. Here is the baby, crying endlessly out of hunger and pain and unable to be filled with anything, with her big, big brown eyes and tiny body, and the mother who is pretty rough with her, still trying to nurse her with nothing. She is talking with her brother-in-law and laughing about something, and all I can think is, dear God, is this happening?? How can this mother be sitting so comfortably and carefee knowing what she had planned to do today? Am I really racing along the African countryside in a beat up Kia with people who have so little value in the gift of life that they would plan to throw it away and share some gossip and a few jokes after? Huh??? This is so monumentally wrong that I can't even wrap my head around it. I try to see the other side of it, but I just cannot go there.
We were blessed at the hospital that it was not busy... and that I grabbed enough money to pay for everything. I don't think I will ever get used to Ghanan hospitals. I mean, here we are, meeting with the doctor, and he tells us Gmarlia is very, very sick, she is malnourished and has very poor blood. She needs a transfusion immediately. Then he looks at me and says, "Your next step is to find some blood." I think my brain stuttered for about 10 seconds, and then I said, "Find some blood? How do I do that?? What? Did you say find some blood?" and he says yes. Huh? Huh? I mean, can you imagine anything weirder? So that's what we did. We went to the lab, found and bought some blood, went to the pharmacy and bought her meds, then took her to her ward.
Well, Gmarlia is currently at the Yendi Hospital with her mother and uncle. The hospital staff has been warned about the state of the mother and has been told she cannot leave with the baby. She was having her transfusion when we left. I cannot tell you all of the things I am feeling right now. I cried in Sister's arms when I got home. I am trying so hard not to be judgmental of the tribes who practice this custom, but how can I not be? I looked into the painfilled eyes of a 6 month old baby who was slowly being starved to death on purpose. I heard her cries and I held her tiny, light body in my arms. In my world, 6 month old babies are chubby and cute with dimples who chortle and giggle for hours on end. And those that are not are cared for and loved and receive the best care. How can this continue to happen?
Please pray for Gmarlia, that she makes it through the next few days and weeks. We will be going to the hospital on Monday to see how she is doing, and we may be able to bring her home. Please pray for Sister Stan who bears the burden of her condemned children. Please pray for the families and tribes who continue to believe that the power to end a life is held by a group of elders, and no one seems safe from the firing squad, even a six month old baby. Please pray for the mothers of these tribes who Sister Stan tells me have no say in the life of their children. And please pray for me... I will continue to pray for you!! xo
