Rough Week

Last week most of my time was spent in Pasua, which is the new ward I’ll be working in over the next couple months. After explaining the concept of our small grants business program to the ward officers and community volunteers (CV’s), I’ve spent the remainder of my time preparing a general survey of the ward. The survey includes drawing up maps, figuring out what people purchase locally, what they purchase in town, what types of businesses currently exist, what types of businesses might be successful, and really just trying to get an overall impression of whether or not our program will work. On my walking tour of the area the CV’s and I have stopped into several homes to meet with the people that might be eligible for our program.

The first woman we visited lived in a small one room mud shack with her two children. The room was no more then 8’x 8’in size, was terribly uneven from top to bottom, and the mud bricks which the walls are made from are literally breaking apart at the seams. With only one bed in the room I’m sure one of the kids has the unlucky duty of sleeping on the mud floor which as you can imagine cant be terribly comfortable. As I sat there and explained our program, I couldn’t help but notice how the family had done their best to cover up the unsightly mud bricks with every imaginable magazine and newspaper picture they could find. Prior to going inside I had suggested to the CV’s that we just talk outside so as not to take up too much of her time or force her to have to tidy up due to our unexpected visit. Mr. Ngomja, one of our CV’s, strongly suggested that we go inside so as not to attract the attention of the neighbors with our presence. So as we all packed into the one room, Mr. Ngomja explained to me that there was still quite a bit of stigma in this area towards those who have HIV and my presence alone would have been bad for the woman and her family. Even so, our host was happy to see us and to hear about the program. I walked away feeling that our program could really make a difference with this family.

Following that visit, we literally had to walk just 20 feet to get to the house of another potential candidate, once again a woman, and once again with HIV. I felt for awhile there that we could have gone into every other home on our walk and found someone with HIV. When we went into this house, the young lady had a five year old son, who was also HIV+ but also suffering from TB. The boy was lying on the bed and it was quite obvious he was very sick and that the mother was very concerned about him. As we sat there and talked about the program, I could hear the boy really struggling to breath and I couldn’t help feeling absolutely helpless at that moment. When we left, the CV’s informed me that the boy’s chance for survival was slim and they would be surprised if he lived much longer. I left feeling quite shaken by the whole experience and thinking how unfair life was for this little boy who by no doing of his own might die before he reaches the age of six.

After a few more visits and hearing and seeing similar stories, I had to make my way home as it was becoming more and more difficult to take. Unfortunately, even at home I can’t seem to escape the constant presence of death. Just last week, a neighbor who I had recently met, died of a stroke. As a result there’s been a constant stream of people coming up the road to pay their respects. In addition to that, my Baba’s sister who has been staying with us the past month is also very ill. She’s been diagnosed with inoperable liver cancer and since the discovery of the cancer three weeks ago she has not been able to get out of bed except for a handful of times. Her family has been here constantly the past several weeks which although comforting for her is also quite sad as I think everyone feels that time is not on her side. When I visit with her I can see the pain in her eyes and because of our language barrier, I’m once again feeling quite helpless.

Since being here, I’ve done my best to suppress the fact that many people die long before they should. The life expectancy of a Tanzanian averages around 46 years. Since the first case of AIDS was reported in 1983, HIV prevalence has been on the increase now reaching close to 15%. The number is closer to 30% here in northern Tanzania. One in seven children die before the age of five and most before the age of two. 2/3's of those under 2 have contracted HIV from their monthers. It’s really not unusual to talk to at least one person a week who isn’t going to or coming from a funeral and for people to brush it off like some sort of unfortunate circumstance.

Anyway, this wasn’t meant to be a big downer of a post but I’ve just had a hard time with all of it this week. To hear about death is one thing but to be constantly surrounded by it has had me feeling quite sad and in disbelief at how unfair life is for some people in this world. The five year old boy deserves better care and more food to make him healthy again. Yet because his mother probably lives on less then $1 a day, he’s not going to get the care or the food he needs.

Those who live on less then $1 a day are considered extremely poor. Extreme poverty has no place in the civilized world and certainly no place in this 21st century. Pulling oneself out of the poverty trap that most find themselves in is near impossible without a little bit of help. One of the many ways we can help to eradicate extreme poverty is thru micro-credit. I’ve seen what a small amount of credit or a grant can do to help these women get a toe hold on the ladder to a slightly better life where ones basic needs are not compromised. With just a little bit of success the women I work with are able to buy a little more food, provide their families with slightly better healthcare, and maybe even send their children to school. An educated population is not only better for Tanzania; it’s better for the rest of the world.

With that said, in my next post I’m going to be talking about my plans to climb the second highest mountain in Tanzania, 15,000ft Mt. Meru, and asking you to sponsor me. The proceeds will go to our next round of funding for the women of Pasua. Not to worry, I promise not to break you. Your small contribution will go a long way here.

Thank you.