Everyday Miracles in Tshelanyemba

Valerie Barter

 

I don’t only believe in miracles, I depend on them every day.

Over and over, I read these words by Major Dr. Dawn Howse, a Canadian physician practicing in Zimbabwe, and was inspired by her faith. In the back of my mind, however, I wondered how I would cope in an environment where miracles were a daily necessity. Would I be able to stay strong emotionally and psychologically, if all around me I saw despair and hopelessness? What could I possibly do to make lives better?

It’s been a dream of mine to go to Africa since I was a teenager. I had older friends and a family member who had gone and had life changing experiences. I wanted to have and experience the same things. I needed to see what I saw in their photographs with my own eyes. When I became a youth pastor, that desire became stronger as I taught teenagers about poverty, injustice, and social responsibility. That dream was fulfilled when a mission team of 19 was assembled from the congregation of St. John’s Temple Salvation Army, in St. John’s, Newfoundland. As initial plans and inquires were being made at the church, I knew that I needed to be a part of what was to happen and I was ecstatic when I discovered I had been chosen. How I would find the money needed and arrange to give up more than three weeks of my summer really didn't cross my mind; I just knew I was going. For nearly a year, planning, fundraising, and preparing was a part of our lives until we set out from St. John’s airport on June 30, 2007. Our mission would be to build a three-apartment brick building that would accommodate hospital staff in the small Zimbabwean town of Tshelanyemba--not an easy feat for a group of educators, an interior decorator, a pastor, business people, students, and government employees!

Tshelanyemba Hospital is located 160 kilometers south of Bulawayo, Zimbabwe’s second largest city. It has a staff 75 and serves 43, 000 people in the area of approximately a 40-kilometer radius from the hospital. Major Dr. Dawn Howse has been the only doctor stationed there since 1992. She faces more than her share of challenges as the spread of HIV/AIDS, tuberculosis, and malnutrition has increased dramatically, and the costs of medicine has become prohibitive in Zimbabwe, a country with the world’s highest inflation rate nearing 1000 percent a year. Fuel and basic food supplies are often in short supply or unavailable locally. Despite this, the 103-bed hospital caters to thousands a year in its TB/AIDS, maternity, medical/surgical, and pediatric wards. It also operates dental, rehabilitation, laboratory, and X-ray units. As in other third- world countries, death of infants and mothers is far too common, mostly because the mothers are too far from medical care when issues arise. To help combat this, there is a shelter available where women in the last month of their pregnancies wait for the birth of their babies; nearly 700 are delivered a year. Most of these babies are delivered healthy because of the mothers' close proximity to the hospital.  Family planning clinics, HIV testing, counseling, and education are carried out and extended to patients and their families. Understandably, with so much happening and so many services being provided, staffing is always a concern.

Tshelanyemba is in a remote and harsh area and its people are some of the most impoverished in the country. The average rainfall is about one third of the Zimbabwe average, and the land is arid. Income and nutrition are very low. As with many rural towns, if children are able to graduate from school, they often leave. This emigration rate makes finding qualified nurses and staff a challenge. In 2003, an 18-month primary care nurse training program was established. Young people come from all over the area to take the program with 20 new students enrolled every six months. Following their training, some go on to careers in the city, some to clinics in surrounding villages, and some to further education. Some stay and are employed by the hospital in Tshelanyemba. Often, staff live further than 10 kilometers from the hospital, a short commute by our standards, but a difficult journey on the rough roads by foot, or, in some cases, on bicycle. By offering local housing, the hospital is better able to attract and retain employees so that patients are able to have stable and consistent care.

After many long and difficult days of traveling, we arrived in Tshelanyemba late on a Tuesday afternoon in early July as the sun was setting. I was first struck by how beautiful the town was, with its small brick houses and large trees. We were greeted by Dr. Howse and the hospital staff, as well as by a group of children who were eager to help us carry our bags to our new homes. We would get to know these children well in the next weeks as they followed us, watched us, and eventually talked and played with us. Our houses were comfortable and stocked for our arrival. Food had been purchased in the neighbouring country of Botswana with money sent from the church in previous weeks, and cots were arranged in our rooms. While there was no heating available, there was electricity and running water, a very pleasant surprise for all of us. Little did we know how sporadic that electricity or water supply would be! We quickly became accustomed to sponge baths after work and flashlights at night, but the times when we could shower and use lights were happy ones. We became very aware of our ability to be grateful for simple things.

It was surprising to me how quickly things that were so foreign to us became common. When seeing mud huts on television, I knew that they are homes; yet, somehow it was still a shock for me to see this in real life.  After a few days though, I was happy to go to my little house at night complete with bugs and a mouse. The first nights of sleep were impossible as donkeys brayed outside our window and roosters crowed at all hours; within days, we could no longer hear them. It was unnerving at first to be followed by goats and sheep as we walked around in the town, yet in days, it seemed strangely quiet when I didn't hear the sounds of their calls and the bells that they wore. The Ndebele language spoken by those in northern Zimbabwe seemed impossible to pronounce and names of the people impossible to remember; yet, after a few days, it seemed normal to greet people I passed with words I hadn't heard a week before. Food that we were hesitant to try in week one became the reason for excitement in week three.

The people quickly adjusted to our presence as well. In such a remote town, white people are rare except for the few that live there like Dr. Howse. In those first days, people would stop and watch us walk by; children would hold our hands and rub our skin; women and teenagers would giggle as we walked by and smiled. Our celebrity status wore off within a week, and, rather than watch from afar, people stopped to greet us and asked questions about our lives in Canada and our progress with the building. They answered our questions and shared the stories of their lives. Quickly, Tshelemyamba became very much like a home.

The building project was a challenging one. A concrete foundation had been laid for many years awaiting a time when materials and labour could be found at a price that could be afforded. Each day, four local men would use concrete and sand from the now-dry riverbed to make brick. Each individual brick was formed in one of two molds that the hospital owned. These bricks were laid to dry in the sun and were ready for use after two days. The 30–40 pound bricks then had to be carried to the site where they were “cleaned” with a metal trowel and ready for use. More river sand was sifted and used to make mortar for bricklaying. It was the full-time responsibility of a pair of our team members to make and deliver mortar each day. Pairs were assigned to areas of the buildings and brick walls appeared almost to our own astonishment. Before the trip, only 2 or 3 of us had actually ever laid brick. We have gained a new respect for those who do it as a career! We were expertly guided by two men from the hospital maintenance staff who quickly became friends and members of our team. The work continued from dawn to sunset daily with half-day breaks on Sundays so we could attend worship services at the chapel in the village.

After two and a half weeks, we were able to present to the town and the hospital, a completed shell with walls, doors, windows, and most of a roof. Dignitaries, politicians, and Salvation Army clergy from the surrounding area joined us for the ceremony as the “ribbon was cut” at the front door by Dr. Howse and a town elder. A community celebration was held that night as we were treated to a meal of fresh sheep and vegetables and entertained by local singers and dancers. It was a night of mixed emotions as we were exhausted from the weeks of labour; yet, thrilled to see the work we had been picturing in our minds for so long finally come to be. We were happy to be heading first to a few days in Victoria Falls and then back home; yet, we were sad to leave the place and people that had become very dear to us. We were thrilled to know we had helped in some small way; yet, we also knew that so much more needed to be done.

We did see miracles. They were not the great supernatural healing or provision that I expected, though they have happened in Tshelanyemba. It was miraculous that despite our days being consumed with heavy labour, there was still time to meet people, and I have come home with friends from another side of the world. It was miraculous to realize that children are the same wherever you go, and that the ones with toys made from old wire and tree branches somehow seemed happier than many I know with overflowing playrooms. It was life- changing to witness the joy and the strong faith of the people in our daily conversations. It was beautiful to hear them sing loudly and dance as they expressed their gratitude to God at their church services. It was a miracle that despite the circumstances, delayed flights, lack of supplies, difficulties in communication, and lack of experience, there is a house standing in Tshelanyemba that is being lovingly completed by our new friends and will have owners before Christmas.

I knew that some day I would go to Africa. I know now that I will return. On the night we left, Dr. Howse said to us that the dust of Tshelenyamba gets under your skin, and when it does, it itches until the day you come back. I know that to be true. I think about the place and the people every day; I often dream about it. I know that many of those who travelled with me feel the same. Coming home was welcomed after the long trip but was also something we had adjust to. Moving and working at our frenzied pace was a shock to our minds and bodies after the slow and relaxed pace of Zimbabwe. Standing in a grocery store or Wal-Mart made our hearts break as we thought about the struggle for food and everyday things that people we know have everyday. Watching television didn't seem important for some reason. Sadly, I've adjusted well and these things don't affect me anymore. Maybe they should.       

Miracles were not a necessity for me in Zimbabwe, but they were the things that made life good for me while I was there. I was humbled and enlightened by my experience, not drained of strength. I was never surrounded by despair or hopelessness because there was too much hope and faith and joy. We may have made lives better for a short time, bringing money and food and medical supplies, but in the long run, I have been changed for the better. The miracles I saw were the spirit of the people, the beauty of the country, and the realization that hope can exist where it seems like all hope should be lost.

Photo Credits: All photos associated with this article courtesy of Valerie Barter (permission granted).

For More Information:

Visit the "Helping Hands" section of the St. John's Temple website.

"Everyday Miracles in Tshelanyemba" is Valerie's first article for Edwards.