This particular story comes at an appropriate time since April 25 is World Malaria Day--Cory's day! She has fought off malaria several times, however, she's been fortunate to have some means to pay for the medicine. A mother shouldn't have to choose between medicine for her baby or food for her family. Read about Christine and her mother's struggles of helplessness. Then, at the end, if you'd like to take part in this weeks experience, there are ideas below.
We’re always told that life is full of choices, and often we have the option of making good choices over bad ones. But what if there was no option to make the “good” choice? In this week’s story, we will read about a mother whose choices in life are severely limited. It’s a different kind of trap.
Uganda
Sitting on a torn piece of sisal mat behind their mud and wattle house, Christine Asobora looks like an ordinary six-month-old baby. Stained by patches of grey soil, her legs are spread out before her. Her eyes, dancing with excitement, follow her three-year-old brother Innocent Murungi as he jumps up in the air, attempting to grab one of the low-hanging branches on the tree under which she is sitting. She tries to move towards him, but she cannot.
She gets bored, sticks her thumb in her mouth, and her gaze wanders to the chicken scratching about in the garden. Unsuccessful, Innocent eventually comes and sits next to Christine, starts making funny faces, and is rewarded with a toothy smile.
Christine is not six months old; she has actually just marked her first birthday. Something that is worrying her mother is her small frame and the fact that at one year she cannot crawl, a milestone that on average babies achieve at seven months. She is also underweight, weighing only 6.5 kilogrammes (14.3 pounds), yet at birth she came at a healthy 3 kilogrammes (6.6 pounds).
“At this age she should be standing or walking, but that might not happen soon,” says her mother, 40-year-old Rebecca Asiimwe.
Christine has just recovered from a bout of malaria. Her small light face is dotted with a skin rash, which has also spread to the rest of her body. Her hair is soft and light, resting flat on her head. Her mother says she gets fever (malaria) very often, accompanied by cough and flu, which has most likely contributed to the slowness in her growth.
“Whenever she attempts to start crawling, she gets fever, becomes weak and cannot make an effort to crawl,” Asiimwe explains.
Christine has stunted growth, caused by frequent malaria episodes that go untreated. She would not be falling sick as regularly if she was getting the right treatment. When she falls sick, her mother takes her to Buhimba Health Centre III, which is about 3.5 kilometers (2.2 miles) away. Not owning a bicycle, Assimwe uses the next available transport option and walks for one and a half hours to get to the health centre.
“I would not mind the distance if my daughter were getting treatment. But many times I take her to the clinic and they just make a diagnosis. They then write for me the medicine and ask me to buy it from the drug shop,” says Asiimwe.
She says that often she does not have money to buy the medicine.
“If I have money, I buy the medicine. When I fail, I just take her back home and when I later get money, I go and look for the prescribed medicine,” she says resignedly.
For a woman whose husband was recently diagnosed with a liver problem, it is easy to understand Asiimwe’s situation. Before he developed complications, John Asiimwe used to work with his wife at their brick-laying business. The money they got would cater for some household needs and school fees for their children. For food, they plant cassava, sweet potatoes, beans and maize, which sustain the home.
John was recently advised to keep away from any strenuous work, leaving his wife to fend for the family.
“I make around 5,000 bricks in six months. From their sale, I get Ush150,000 (US$91). After paying off the laborers who help me, I am left with Ush50,000 (US$30) for us to live on. How then can I buy medicine off Ush10,000 (US$6)?” Asiimwe asks.
Apart from treatment, proper nutrition is important in surviving a malaria attack. Christine is still being breastfed, and, at her age, she needs to supplement this with either formula or cow milk and other solid foods. Asiimwe says she does not have enough breastmilk; the milk comes if she has a good diet, one that is made up of, say, fish, matooke (green bananas) and vegetables.
However, her family mainly feeds on cassava and beans, and when there are no beans, they “simply eat the cassava only.” Cassava is eaten either boiled or in the form of bread – it is dried, pounded and made out of the flour. Christine’s diet is no different.
“She can even spend a month without tasting cow milk because I cannot afford it. When I get money, I buy it for her. Otherwise she eats cassava bread like the rest of us,” Asiimwe says bluntly.
All along, Asiimwe has been speaking with a certain nonchalance, seeming accustomed to accepting things the way they are. However, Asiimwe’s real feelings are revealed when she voices her dreams for her last born.
“I would love to see her not falling sick, sleeping well and eating well like other children,” she says, fondly caressing Christine’s head. “Which mother wouldn’t?”
REFLECTION:
Rebecca‘s impossible choice between buying medication to treat her daughter’s malaria and using the money to provide food for the rest of her family is a choice no one should have to make, but many do. Her situation is essentially “helpless.” This week, we will carry out acts that simulate experiencing helplessness.
SUGGESTIONS FOR THIS WEEK’S EXPERIENCE:
• Take away a tool that you depend on. Some options include: pens, pencils, paper, internet search engines, your cell phone or its apps, text messaging, your car, public transportation, your computer, etc.
• Go without a coat or something else that keeps you physically protected.
• Write some of your computer passwords on a sheet of paper and give copies to some trusted friends. Throughout the week, think about what would happen if they actually used your passwords and saw your entire life without filters.
• Each day, commit to telling a stranger (which also means you must meet a stranger) or a different friend a secret about your life.
You can come up with your own experience, but the common theme of all our acts is that they make us feel vulnerable – something Rebecca feels everyday. And as we go through our “helpless” experiences, let us remember that Jesus, Son of God, selflessly became man and experienced vulnerability in order to restore our relationship with God.
Thanks for taking on this experience of helplessness in observance of Lent 2011.
--Written by Laura Dassama
Laura Dassama is a Ph.D. candidate in the Department of Biochemistry, Microbiology and Molecular Biology at the Pennsylvania State University. She serves as lead of the Intercessory Prayer Team at Harvest Global Mission Church, and she is a food enthusiast.
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