Two things in the past week that have happened:
I have been asking myself why I am ready to invest my hard earn cash into some Shea Butter processing somewhere in Northern Ghana? As I write this the first building is been completed and things are moving ahead of schedule. I know that what I am doing will not change the system or make "systemic and disruptive change"s as George would say.
In part it’s because of the personal connection I developed with the Taha community. It has to do also with their response to be challenge I gave them. In the end there are maybe thousands of small communities in more remote areas that deserve a hand. Maybe they have even more pressing needs. Taha is my surrogate Ghanaian village, my family here on the Dark Continent. From a development point of view it may not make much sense but much of what is being done in the development sector doesn’t make much sense anyway.
It’s also in part because of my own African experience. After spending a full month in Toronto “learning” about development and all the different ways we are at EWB making changes. After spending the past four months on my own change project and observing what all the other EWBers are doing; I want to make concrete changes. I found my Dorothy and I want to do something that will make her life better. I have seen the impact of similar projects on a community and it doesn’t solve their problems but it helps and makes their life a little better.
And thirdly, all of the above could be just a pile of bull droppings, perhaps I am just being self indulgent.
While in discussion with the 5 member, executive the subject of the Secretary came up. Abdulai will be the interim Secretary and I didn’t understand why. They explained to me that they couldn’t find a woman qualified for the job, a woman who could read and write. You hear it right people; a village of 800 souls and there is no woman or young girl who can read or write. How on earth could this be? Taha is a stone's throw from Tamale the biggest city in Northern Ghana. It’s a small village with no electricity but already under attack from urban sprawl. I could write in length about education, or the lack thereof, or it’s necessity but all that I can think is the how the hell is this possible?
I took Siera to the Tamale Teaching Hospital on Monday for a follow up on some of her tests. The attending physician did his consultation on a table with a few plastic chairs in the middle of the mens ward. He made it clear to Siera that she should never be admitted to this hospital, it’s not a healthy place. We sat there between a few beds with patients in them and it took some time. When the doctor finally came he apologized profusely for making us wait.
There is a man who came to the hospital some time ago to be treated but didn’t have insurance. He was prescribed medications but his family having problem raising the money ($15 Canadian) only bought half of the medication. But after taking the meds he felt fine for a while. He came to the hospital that evening because he got sick again. He waited longer then he should have because the family had difficulties raising the money for the consultation ($6 Canadian). As we were sitting there he was already on oxygen and without a special med ($15 Canadian) to reduce the swelling of his brain he would die within an hour. The family now was struggling not only to get the money but to find the meds since it seems that everyone in Tamale was out. While sitting there during Siera’s consultation I couldn’t help peeking once in a while at the curtain down the hall with the dying man behind.
After the consultation we drove back to Gumany and by the time I went to grab some dinner the man was dead. I have a very hard time driving by someone with a flat tire on the side of the road, or by someone stuck in a snow bank. It made me feel that I just drove by and didn’t stop and yet there is nothing I could have done. The money in my pocket was useless. From the ignorance of that person in not understanding the initial treatment, the constraint that getting the equivalent of $15 Canadian and the nonavailability of a fairly common medication; the outcome was cast.
Ghana has been beautiful but it also has been hard. Walking by and seeing but choosing not to see. Knowing but forgetting that we know. Remembering just enough so that we can carry on and do our job. I am glad that I am leaving soon because this place could syphon the marrow out of my soul. Maybe I am just not cut out for this place.
I am on my last sprint to the finish line; I have to focus on what I came here to do. I have to stop looking around. In my free time I can play with pieces of wood, concrete, small diesel engine, grinding mill and build stuff; that is something I can do. It feels that it is the only real thing that I know how to do, building stuff.
Who knows, maybe some day a few young girls from Taha will be able to make it to High School? Maybe the Shea Butter processing will help? Just not this year.
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