Child in Zambia

Two weeks ago I was in Lusaka, Zambia. I spent one day seeing families through our Community Based Rehabilitation program (CBR). This is a program where community workers go into the communities, find people (most of them children) with disabilities, refer them for medical assistance, design a rehabilitation plan, and work with the families and communities to provide on-going support.

CBR is a good program with a great strategy.

In the one afternoon in Lusaka we saw five straight cases of children with cerebral palsy (CP).  There was much similar in all these cases. Each was a child and a mother. Each child needed extensive exercises and massage to release the tightening muscles. Each plan needed daily work from the mother and there was an art to know how far to push each child – past the point of pain and not as far as damage to the muscles.

Two things struck me in those visits.

The first was the link between poverty and disability. At the beginning of each visit the community worker would brief us on the individual case – reading from the case file. In all of these CP cases the mother reported long, hard labour with no medical help. One of the causes of CP is complications during birth. In each case it appeared that earlier medical intervention in the birth process would have prevented the child from having CP. The reason the mothers did not seek medical attention, again in all cases, was cost and access to medical care. If these mothers were not living in poverty they would have had medical attention. Poverty prevented the birth from being easier. Almost assuredly each of these children would not now have a disability if these mothers were not so poor.

The phrase “link between poverty and disability” rolls off our tongue so easily sometimes.  It is a stark reminder how real that link is – it is not a phrase.

The second thing that struck me was how important the CBR program was to these mothers. These were young mothers – one was 18 years old. In most cases the father had left – not able to handle the stress of  poverty and a family with a child with a disability. The mothers desperately needed the community worker to come in once a week and offer them support. These mothers needed the human contact with someone who cared and understood. The CBR program in Lusaka also brings these mothers together once a week in a support group – where they can learn from each other, support each other, and just talk with others who are experiencing what they are experiencing.

CBR is not a program that works only with the individual with a disability – but works with the family and the community.

Like I said – CBR is a good program with a great strategy.

If you got to my blog today from the cbm Canada web site you will have noticed our new look. I am excited to see our new site – we hope it is even easier to use to get information about our work than the old one. Take some time to explore – even if you knew a lot about cbm Canada you might find out even more. If you have questions please let us know.

Finally – some relatively good news from Haiti.  We heard last night from our staff in Port au Prince. Although it rained hard and for several days, it could have been worse. Some areas did have small mud slides but they were contained and our staff did not report any deaths. Our partner hospitals also did not report a spike in injuries. The winds from the hurricane were not as bad as projected.

So… although muddy and soggy, the plans to use schools and other spots to shelter people seems to have worked. There will be clean up, rebuilding tents, and reopening of schools to deal with – but the worst is over.

We are waiting to hear how Haiti is faring during the hurricane. Our staff there have reported heavy rain for two days, but the fears are that the worst is yet to come. I cannot imagine living in a tent – or under a tarp – and waiting for a hurricane to hit. There are still 1.4 million people in Port au Prince living in tents. As a father I wonder how I would comfort my children. Would I be able to say – “Don’t worry, everything will be alright”?

Please pray for these families.

Today I spent the day in the presence of a true hero – a nine year old boy named Rodenson. He taught me that a hero is not determined by their actions, but by their character; this young boy has strength of character beyond his years.

When I arrived at the tent city his family now calls home I wasn’t sure what to expect when I poked my head into the entrance, in fact, I had prepared for the worst. But when I did, I was greeted by one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen.

There was Rodenson, lying belly down on a mattress, eating his lunch, and looking up at us with his huge brown eyes and a smile from ear to ear.

It may not seem like much, but that smile spoke volumes.

Back on January 12 Rodenson and his three siblings were playing in their house when the earthquake struck. Almost on instinct they bolted for the door, but once outside Rodenson realized his four year old sister Anne was still in the house. Without a thought, without a moment’s hesitation, he ran back in to get her. As the two of them were fleeing a wall of the house fell on Rodenson, trapping him, but Anne was able to escape.

That moment of heroism saved his sisters life, but cost Rodenson his right foot. Some might say not a heavy price, but to a young boy who dreamed of becoming a football star it was the end of his dream, the end of his life.

Immediately after the amputation his mother – Caroline – says Rodenson lost his spark. The boy who couldn’t stop laughing, smiling and playing no longer laughed, no longer smiled, and no longer played, and she wondered if he ever would again.

The prospects for the family didn’t look good either. The father was killed in the quake, the family house was destroyed, and Caroline’s cosmetic business lay in ruins. With no home and no income the family of seven (including an uncle and a grandmother) were forced to live out of the back of a pick-up truck for six months, with no hope of a future.

It was a difficult time for the family, but even more so for Rodenson. Caroline says he was angry because he could never play football again, he was worried people would make fun of him and he feared other children would pick on him.

But soon after the amputation Rodenson attended a Child Day Care Centre run by CBM and our local partner CES. At the centre Rodenson had the chance to play, sing, draw, and basically just be a kid again. Caroline took him as often as she could and says while it took time, the son she thought she had lost eventually returned.

When I saw him today, he was like a different boy, smiling from ear to ear and laughing and playing to the camera.

After a brief conversation we presented him with a brand new football. He immediately jumped off the bed, strapped on a temporary stump-cover and literally ran outside, with no crutches, to start playing football with his older brother.

The rest of the morning he spent running around the tent city and playing to the camera.

When his sister Anne returned from school, the two of them were inseparable.
It’s quite clear by watching them together that his single act of heroism encompassed his love for her, and now her every action encompasses her gratitude.

When a street vendor strolls by selling ‘freezies’ she asks for one and we oblige, but she immediately takes it inside the tent to Rodenson, so we buy another. According to her mother she seldom leaves his side, and when he does run on ahead she can be heard yelling out ‘Short Foot’ hoping he will slow down so she can catch up. A nickname only a sister could get away with.

The family still has a long way to go. They were able to move out of the pick-up and into a tent, but the mother is still unemployed and three of her four children are not in school. There is no hope of rebuilding the family house, or restarting the family business, and who knows when the kids will return to their studies.

But that doesn’t seem to bother Caroline. She openly says she doesn’t know what the future holds for any of them. She simply smiles, turns her palms up and says it’s all in God’s hands now; there is nothing else I can do.

She sits on an army cot in the stifling midday sun and watches her two youngest children play amid the multitude of tents. Despite her circumstances Caroline appears quite happy, and why not. Her only daughter is alive, and the son she thought she had lost forever has returned.

HAITI – Brian Hatchell, October 21, 2010

When I was planning my return trip to Haiti there were a couple of people I was desperately hoping to reunite with – Stefan and Fara.

While I know CBM has done some incredible work with thousands of quake survivors over the last 10 months, each of whom has their own heart wrenching story, it was the story of Stefan and Fara that stuck with me since the day I met the pair at the Adventist Hospital.

Stefan was a three year old boy who was at risk of losing the lower part of his right leg. He had broken it during the quake and an infection had set in. Doctors felt there would be no option but to amputate because his bones would never support his weight.

Fara was his 10 year old sister and surrogate mother. She lived with Stefan in the hospital for seven months while her mother stayed at home to look after her three other children. Fara took care of Stefan’s every need, she bathed him, changed him, fed him and wheeled him around the hospital so he could hang out with the other kids. She even slept on the cold, dirty floor beneath Stefan’s crib. For seven months she put her life on hold to take care of her brother. She struck me as an incredibly selfless child.

When I left Haiti I was certain the next time I saw Stefan he would have a prosthesis. Thankfully I was wrong.

When I entered the courtyard of the family home I immediately saw Fara and was blown away by how grown up she looked. She is now 11, a young girl, but when you look into her eyes you can tell she is much older.

It didn’t take long before the courtyard was full of children from all over the neighbourhood. But as I scanned their faces I couldn’t see Stefan. When we asked where he was, his mother, Marie Therise, said he is out playing with friends and sent someone to get him.

While we waited I was amazed at how old Fara seemed now. She sat there quietly listening to us talk, and thinking before answering our questions. She seemed quiet, almost reserved.

When Stefan walked through the gate it was clear he wasn’t happy that we forced him to cut his play time short. When asked, he said he recognised me from before but didn’t want to talk. He ran past us into the house. I wasn’t really upset. The mere fact he could run into the house was a miracle.

Here was a boy who only six months ago had a serious leg infection, needed an external fixator to keep his leg from breaking – a third time – and was at risk of having it amputated. In fact, on several occasions the doctors had given up hope of recovery and were on the verge of amputating it. The only reason they didn’t was because of the dogged determination of a CBM physiotherapist who kept pleading with them to clean out the wound and keep increasing the medication.

Marie Therise says if it wasn’t for the physio Stefan would have lost his leg and his life would have been completely different. When asked if she was glad to have the pair home she said she wakes up every morning and thanks God they are back home with her.

When it looks like Stefan has finally forgiven me he comes back outside and just leans against the wall watching me. When I ask if he is happy to be home he just stares at me and shakes his head up and down, like a teenager trying to be cool. But when I ask him what he hopes for, he quickly stands up and says a little yellow car. There is a little boy in there after all.

When I ask Fara if she is glad to be home she says she as happy to be able to help her parents out by taking care of Stefan but she didn’t like living at the hospital with all those sick people. She says it’s better to spend the days playing with her friends and just hanging out, gossiping about boys and having fun.

Neither of the kids are in school because the parents can’t afford the fees. But Fara says she goes to a kids group everyday and learns how to make bracelets and crafts.

If you didn’t know it you would never think these kids have been through any kind of trauma. They seem so normal. But I know different, I know they have been through something incredible and they appear to have come out the other side no worse off.

Marie Therise says the experience has brought Stefan and Fara closer together. She says they are bonded for life. You never see one without the other and they are always looking out for each other. When asked what her hope is for the future Marie Therise says, “I hope that the way God healed Stefan He will heal our family and the entire country. I hope my children will return to school and grow up to realise their dreams.” The prayer of all mothers.

It’s incredible when you realise the magnitude of what these two kids have been through. But it pales in comparison to their resilience. Life has dealt them a tough hand, but you know just by looking at them they will be okay. They will make the most of their opportunities in life and they will do so together.

For more updates from the field, please visit cbm.org!

We are on our way!

In 1999 cbm together with the World Health Organization (WHO) and three other organizations (SightSavers, Orbis, and Helen Keller) launched a program to reduce blindness. The program was called VISION 2020. The number of people blind in the world in 1999 was 50 million, and the objective was to reduce that to 25 million by 2020.

 So how are we doing? The numbers came out last week and the WHO not says there are 39.8 million who are blind. This is a reduction on almost 11 million in our first 10 years of VISION 2020. This is wonderful news – and a demonstration of how effective we can be when we work strategically and with a plan. However, it also shows how much more we have to do to reach our targets of 25 million in another 10 years.

 Some interesting statistics for you:

• Up to 80% of blindness is avoidable by prevention or treatment.
• Almost 90% of blind people live in low-income countries.
• The major causes of blindness are cataract, glaucoma, age related macular degeneration and diabetic retinopathy.
• Restoration of sight through cataract surgery is a very cost-effective health intervention.
• Blindness from trachoma is decreasing as a result of public health interventions, implementation of SAFE strategy and socio-economic development.
• Blindness from onchocerciasis is decreasing as a result of public health interventions – Mectizan distribution.

 Once again the statistics show clearly the link between poverty and disability. People live in greater poverty when they have a disability – and poverty causes disability.

Today Member of Parliament for Oak Ridges – Markham, Paul Calandra came to our office to announce, on behalf of Minister of CIDA Bev Oda, that the Canadian government was partnering with cbm Canada for disability work in Ethiopia. You can read our press release on this meeting here.

What does this mean? It means a few things:

1. As much poverty as there is in Ethiopia – we know that people with disabilities are the poorest. People with disabilities have less access to education, health care and livelihood than others.
2. This project will affect, in three years, 770,000 people with disabilities – half of these will be children. Each of these is a person with a family – with care givers. With the objectives of access to education for children with disabilities, projects to increase income and livelihood, and education for other organizations in Ethiopia to make their programs accessible for people with disabilities there will be a new hope for so many.
3. The project will not end in three years! Working with so many partners in the community, building their skills and staff, putting in place health training and prevention – this project will go on forever. This will be a turning point for people with disabilities in Ethiopia. The money from CIDA will end in three years, but the work accomplished will mean people with disabilities will be positively impacted for so many more years.

Yesterday I talked about the dream of a global “Camp Hope”. Today, with this announcement by the Canadian Government we have begun a new camp hope in Ethiopia!

I caught a glimpse of the miners in Chile being brought to the surface.

What an amazing story. This is a story of hope restored, perseverance and strength. Indeed the camp where family members of the trapped miners have been staying has been named “Camp Hope”. The BBC this morning reported that at this camp Hope there have been prayer meetings and hymns being sung. A community has enveloped these trapped miners in order to bring them hope.

One of the interviews I heard was from a doctor who specializes in working with victims of isolation. He was saying how important community will be for the long term recovery of these miners. Following the euphoria of being brought to the surface, their long term recovery will depend on family and friends working through with them their issues of isolation and fear.

Why do we always need to be reminded of how important community is to our wellbeing?

I had to think of the work of cbm Canada. Many think of our work in terms of a medical intervention – an operation for example. This often is important in addressing an impairment like cleft palate, club foot, or a cataract. For people like this the medical intervention is like the rescue operation from the mine. What many people don’t realize fully is the importance of the role of community for people with disabilities. It is the community attitudes towards a child, mom or dad with an impairment – about education, employment  or even going to Church – that makes the difference for person with disabilities. Community attitudes can either create even more barriers for someone with a disability, or it can enable them to work through their issues of isolation and fear and live wholesome lives. That is why cbm Canada works with commuities as well as medical interventions.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could take “Camp Hope” and make it global!