My group has not yet decided what ministry we will be involved in for the next month. A trip was arranged to visit the Nazarene Hospital in Manzini, so I signed up to check it out as a possible ministry sight. Even after my time in Antigua, hospitals still make me uneasy. My stomach flip-flopped as we entered the grounds of the hospital which was made up of different buildings containing various wards. We entered the building with a paper hand-written sign labeled, “Children’s Ward”.
A large room with a rainbow of curtains had brightly colored walls painted with cartoon characters. An AIM staff member just happened to be visiting, so she gathered us and in a hushed voice gave some background information on the Children’s Ward. She believes that only one or two nurses are assigned to the ward containing about 20 infants, toddlers and small children. Because the hospital has such a small number of staff, a family member of the children must stay to take care of the child Most of the family members present in the ward were mothers. The mothers sleep on the floor under or beside the crib or outside of the building. All of the children seemed to have a very dedicated parent present taking good care of their child. The children were separated by disease; some had lung issues, some had diarrhea, while others had burns. We were then free to visit and talk to the patients and their mothers. Two of the World Racers went to get food for the mothers; they don’t have the freedom to leave to get food for themselves.
Upon entering the ward a woman had asked the typical, “I’m fine, how are you?” Then she asked, “Are you from America?” and, “How is George Bush?” I said, “I think he is probably doing alright.” I peeked down into Futhi’s arms to find a five month old baby girl wrapped in multiple layers of blankets. Futhi explained that she brought her daughter to the hospital 3 days earlier because she had diarrhea and would not feed. The tiny baby had an IV hooked up to the side of her head for hydration. Futhi explained that she was tired, because she lies on the cement floor to sleep at night, but it is too cold to sleep. I offered to hold her daughter so she could take a nap, but she just laughed then grabbed my hand to give me five. (That is one of my favorite things in Swaziland and Mozambique, when someone says something funny or hears something funny they grab their friends hand to give them five.) I replied, “You don’t trust me.” With a smile Futhi replied, “I trust you, but I am enjoying our visit, so I don’t want to sleep.” I asked my new friend about her family, “I have two kids at home, but I want my baby to get better, so I must stay here until she is better.” Futhi explained that the hospital would likely cost equivalent to $35 for the week, but she had no idea how long her daughter would be in the hospital. About that time the World Racers returned with bread, apples, juice, bananas, and cookies to pass out to the women.
Futhi explained, “I enjoy nice food.” When her neighbor cringed at the taste of the orange juice, she pointed and said, “She doesn’t know how to enjoy nice food, she is from the rural parts.” I replied, “Hey, I’m from the rural parts.” We laughed together and she admitted, “So am I.” Futhi pointed to a World Racer that was hovering over a baby at the next bed, “What is she doing.” I explained that she was praying for the baby and asked if Futhi would like me to pray for her daughter. She earnestly shook her head yes. I prayed for the health and future of the baby and her mother. Then I told Futhi I did not know if I would be returning, but I hoped that I would not see her if I did return, because that would mean her baby was feeling better.
I said goodbye to my friend and on the way out saw an unattended baby spitting up. Michelle took the blanket to wipe the baby’s mouth then got the mother’s attention. We left shortly after the mother carried out the baby that continued to spit up.
This afternoon I returned to the AIM house and started talking to some World Racers that had stayed a little longer at the hospital. They explained that about 15 minutes after we left a scream interrupted the hushed silence of the ward. The baby that had been spitting up had passed away. It is so surreal to me that we were present for the last hour of such a short life. The mother that had shared smiles and greetings with us, is now mourning. As I sit here in the comfort of a bed and type I wonder how the mother is doing. I wonder if Futhi is trying to sleep on the concrete floor and if she is warm enough. I wonder if the babies and children are getting the attention and medicine they need. I feel somewhat helpless. All I can do is pray. I am so grateful I can find hope and peace in God. I do not know why the little baby lost his life, but I trust that the Lord is ultimately in control and loves each one of his sons and daughters so much. I trust that he will be there for the mother in her loss, for Futhi in her weariness, and he will comfort the babies and children in their sickness.
