However, I was not prepared for the rock star-ness (is that a word?) of the Kenya Red Cross. Few times in my career and journeys have I seen an indigenous organization with that level of professionalism and drive. I was impressed from the get-go with their national leaders and snazzy offices in Nairobi, not to mention the colossal hotel they are building next door as an income-generating project. Smart stuff happening there.
We hopped a plan to Mombasa on the eastern coast and headed north from there, toward Somalia. Our main launching pad and host Red Cross branches were in Malindi and Lamu, the areas covered by the project. The Red Cross had worked with the Kenyan government to determine the most remote and vulnerable villages where local people had no access to health care. In those selected 113 communities, the villagers voted for one person to be their “little doctor” (an inevitable misnomer), who received training to dispense medicine for malaria, among other basic health needs.
Prior to the program, mothers often delayed seeking treatment when children fell ill, since health facilities were up to six hours away on foot – a decision that often had tragic outcomes. But after just one year of having access to medicine in their own village, the vast majority of caregivers began taking their children to the Red Cross volunteer at the onset of fever, and less kids were dying as a result.
Simultaneously, the Red Cross demonstrated that trained volunteers can indeed dispense medicine effectively, thus answering a pressing question for health programs across developing countries. Poor, rural villages worldwide lack basic health facilities, so training local-level volunteers through organizations like the Red Cross is proving to be a viable solution for filling that enormous gap, and ultimately helping to save lives.
We traveled to about ten of the 113 communities where I documented the volunteers at work, speaking at length with village leaders and residents as well. I could go on indefinitely, but suffice it to say, the level of dedication and competency of the people involved in the program was truly impressive. I spent hours with groups of mothers, who shared how their lives and their children's health had dramatically changed because of the project. I bounced across the ocean and inlets in a rickety flat-bottom boat to reach some of the outlying villages. I was even honored with my very own goat roast, delicious. Yet after all of that and more, the volunteers themselves were perhaps the most unforgettable part of trip.
To say these villages are rural is an understatement -- this is straight up African wilderness. Not only are there no roads, often the footpaths are so overgrown you can’t see them. Some areas also border national wildlife reserves that, of course, have no fences. Lions and tigers and poisonous snakes (and much else) are a fact of life. Many of the volunteers shared stories about being called out to treat sick kids in the middle of the night in the pouring rain, and they had to hurry across the rough terrain unable to see anything -- including wild animals. All of them risk their lives and livelihoods constantly, sacrificing whatever it takes to help ensure the kids in their community are healthy.
Finally, after several “middle of the night” stories, I asked someone why they weren’t using flashlights at least. But I already knew the answer. It was rural Kenya. There are no flashlights to be found and certainly no batteries available. I thought immediately of all the lighting devices I was loaded down with just to go to Haiti for a few weeks -- a mini lantern, a headlamp, several small flashlights, at least two year supply of batteries. “They are out here in the bush sacrificing so much, literally risking their lives and they don’t even have a freaking flashlight!”
For some reason, that particular realization really bothered me, and still does. So, within a few days of getting home, I emailed the project manager and asked her if I could come up with 113 solar powered, waterproof flashlights, could I send them to her to give to the volunteers? She said of course and was excited just by the offer. Just over a week later, I heard from her again, but it wasn’t with good news. One of the volunteers had been killed by a hippopotamus, who are apparently very violent animals, when he was out on nighttime call to treat a sick child. Everyone in his family, the village and the project was devastated.
Would a flashlight have saved his life? Who knows. But that was honestly one of my first thoughts after I got passed the shock and sadness. Regardless, that terrible tragedy strengthened my resolve to do what I can to help, even if it is something relatively simple. You may be hearing from me again in the weeks ahead about this, but if you’re interested now in helping, let me know. A solar-powered waterproof flashlight only costs $13.00. Seriously, that’s it. I’ve even bought one already to test it out and think it would be perfect.
Though I didn’t meet the volunteer who passed away, here are a few images of the ones I was lucky enough to spend time with. All of them were caring and joyful, and you could tell why the whole community chose them to be their very own “little doctor.” Their stories and the impact of their work will reach the ears of people they will likely never meet when the report on the project is officially launched during the UN General Assembly in New York later this month. Hopefully, those leaders will be moved to action just as I was.
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| Mary treats a sick patient. |
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| Michael. He is also a pastor and is standing in his open-air church. |
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| Jacob checks fever of a little girl. |
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| Alice. She was non-stop laughter. |
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| Phillip, with his mother, wife and kids. This was taken right after the goat roast. |
