Yesterday seven of us went up to the hospital here in
Manzini,
Swaziland to visit patients and their families.
Before entering we bought a bunch of fruit, from a fruit stand outside by the entrance, to give to family members of the patients in the hospital.
We then headed to the children’s ward. Let me describe this ward to you as best I can.
You walk in the main entrance and there are private rooms on either side of you. As you continue on the hallway opens up into a very large room. This is where most of the patients are.
There are glass dividing walls. Each section houses about 8 cribs or beds.
Four on each side with a walkway in between them.
The room is decorated in blue and there are high windows that are draped in colorful fabrics.
At the back of the room there is a mural with characters from the movie “The Lion King”.
You can tell at some point in time someone tried to make this room as bright and cheerful as possible, but it is still somewhat of a bleak place.
In this ward there are only 2 nurses (while we were there anyway) and the children are taken care of by family members, usually their mothers, who rarely leave.
The parents are the nurses for their children, sitting by their side, feeding them, and taking care of any needs they might have.
Because they rarely leave, some of them do not eat very often.
We handed out fruit and a few of the mothers kept asking for more because they had not eaten in awhile and most likely did not have much money.
Also as we walked through I saw straw sleeping mats and mattresses under the beds of the children-this is where the parents sleep. At night they just roll out the mats/mattresses and put it as close to their child as they can or wherever they can find space, just in case something were to happen during the night.
As we entered the ward to visit with the families, Stephanie and I headed off
together, with some fruit in hand,
and started talking to a larger group sitting around a few cribs, consisting of a few ladies and two children sitting on a bench.
They were there to visit their sister and her baby daughter, Precious, who had been in the hospital for about a week.
Precious, an 18 month old, is extremely dehydrated, has been vomiting, and has diarrhea.
They don’t know anything more that that. They don’t know why Precious is having problems, most likely it is something related to HIV/ AIDS.
We visited with the aunt of Precious, who spoke English and helped translate, and her two children.
They were bringing food to her sister, who was living at the hospital with Precious.
Stephanie and I continued walking through the ward we handed out stickers and more fruit.
We came to the back of the ward were there were four beds and four women sitting together, keeping each other company.
After visiting with a few of the kids, one of the women came and sat next to Stephanie, she is the mother of a nine year old boy that broke his leg playing soccer.
She tells us that she is only 22 years old. .
Her son has his leg in some sort of traction and is only supposed to be there another 3 weeks, enough time for his leg to “heal”.
We talk a little bit more and she tells us that she doesn’t like being there, especially at night.
She is afraid to go to sleep, I don’t think it is so much that she is afraid for her son, but for what happens with other children during the night.
There are 1-2 deaths of a child in that ward, every day.
I’m assuming that many of these children pass away at night, since she is afraid to go to sleep.
Most of the children are younger and most likely infants.
Hopefully her son will leave the hospital. Unlike many of the children that are there, or so we have been told.
I spend a few more minutes with Stephanie and this mother, then head up towards the front where some of the group has been holding a little baby, that is not connected to an IV, and does not seem to belong to anyone.
This baby girl, who’s name means “found”, is maybe 6-7 months old.
According to nurses she was left at the hospital and no one knows who her parents are.
For the moment the nurses are taking care of this child, who does not seem to be sick.
While we were there, “Found”, was in a bin on wheels and was just laying there quietly, waiting to be held.
The nurses are trying to find her a home, but for now she is growing up in the children’s ward where there is death around her daily.
Finally it is time for us to leave, for our ride has arrived to take us back to our lives.
We say goodbye to the mothers and fathers who have let us into their lives for a brief moment in time.
