So other than teaching at the secondary school, I've completed my door-to-door interviews. Walking around a village for 3 months (trying to interview some 30,000+ people) waaaass... super fun. According to my statistics, I'm living in a village with about a 20% employment rate. EMPLOYMENT. Not unemployment. So if anyone is looking to, I don't know, build a huge factory that will create thousands of jobs in the middle of BFK, please call me.
The lack of jobs in my area is a huge problem. The biggest, I think. How can a Public Health Volunteer help that? My job is supposedly to provide support for health issues, and unfortunately I don't see health as the underlying issue here. That's not to say that health isn't an issue, or that it doesn't affect people's work ethic/ability. But this idea of learned helplessness... is the bane of my existence. There is SO much potential in Kenya (and Africa), so many people, so much money to be made... but no one has the hope to dream. It is extremely discouraging to be around so much hopelessness, when people believe they have no future beyond struggling for a living. Westerners, or white people in general, are seen as dollar signs; a way out- the only way out. Kenyans don't believe they can do it themselves without a sponsor or donor money. If you don't have that, or if you can't connect them with someone who does, your face value to the community was just cut in half. And for good reason, no one has money, and everyone needs it.
I stumbled upon a mama in a health clinic I was visiting on the outskirts of my village. She was with her 2 children; a 6mo. boy and a 2 yr. girl. The 2 year old was in and out of consciousness, unable to keep her eyes open, her limbs like jelly from lack of strength and sustenance. She has to be carried everywhere because she is so malnourished she cannot walk or even speak. She hasn't eaten in days. I recommend the clinic refer her to the district hospital, about 15 k away, or a 100 ksh piki ride (just over $1USD). Obviously, they say, they have seen this mama before and referred her, but she doesn't have the money to get there or pay for the hospital fees. I could stress the importance of seeking medical attention to this mama, and hope that somehow she finds the money to go even though there's probably a 90% chance that she will be unable and this child's health with continue to decline. Or I could take her myself, pay for the fees, and fuel the common belief that white people just have money to give away. What is the right answer? Might it be secret option C, take the child but under the premise that it is not I (the white person) who is funding the medical support but my organization, a CBO (with no funding) in Namanjalala?! In the end, it doesn't matter. We all know I wasn't going to leave that little girl to die in the clinic, and no matter where I say the money is coming from, the mama still continues to call me twice a day asking for more money.
At the end of the day (or rather 23 days, the amount of time she spent admitted in the hospital), when I saw that 2 year old girl transform from a lifeless, lethargic, bag of tiny little bones to a smiling, giggling, healthier child that seemed to know she was there and able to eat because of this disheveled muzungu, I was okay with my decision. I can ignore the phone calls and messages, and passerby asking me for thousands of shillings for whatever reason, but I would never have been able to ignore that girl's face plastered in my mind after walking out of that clinic knowing that just because of her bad luck of being born in Kenya she would die before reaching her 5th birthday.
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