Dale and Carin's Chronicles: Children Everywhere!

One of the things that I noticed upon arrival was the number of children running around. They were everywhere!

I kept saying, “Hwo gogob dasom,” (There are a lot of children!).

With a trained village healthcare worker now living and working there, the survival rate of children had increased. Some families had as many as seven kids. Dispensing of medicines daily for sickness and having mother and baby clinics each week was advancing life and health among the Gobasi tribe.

In our early years there, it was not uncommon for a mother to lose several babies. Almost every mother had lost a child or two. Pneumonia, malaria, and meningitis were all killers. In the 80’s when we first arrived, I saw many babies die from lack of healthcare and proper medicine. It also wasn’t uncommon to see a child die from dehydration. Now, education and understanding were saving many children from death as they learned how medicine could take away their fevers, cough and other illnesses.

Timothy, the healthcare worker at Yehebi.

During our visit there this summer, a pregnant mother walked in to the clinic for help giving birth to her baby. Sensing something was wrong, she walked a day to Yehebi (from a village four hours away) because the baby refused to be born. While in labor, she walked through the jungle with her husband and kids, stopping to lie down and rest as she struggled to make it to the station for help.

Can you imagine the difficulty of walking for help while you are in labor?? I can't.

In late afternoon, they arrived. One of the village women told me a lady had come in to give birth because her labor was difficult. Late into the night, I heard her moans and screams as the health worker tried to help with the birth. About 1:00 a.m., everything went quiet.

Early the next morning, I went over to see what happened. I wasn’t sure if either had survived.

I talked with Timothy, the healthcare worker, and asked what happened during the night. He said, "When she arrived at the station, I checked the mother . I couldn't hear the baby’s heartbeat. I pushed on her belly to see if the baby would move, but it didn’t. I knew the baby was dead and that I had to get the baby out, or the mother might die." A difficult breach position had caused the baby to die prior to birth and before arriving at the Aid Post.

He worked into the night to deliver the dead baby. The next morning a grave was dug to bury the tiny baby boy. I carried the family food and checked in to see the mother. I handed her a tin cup of hot sugared tea. Sitting on her floor mat with a sleeping two year old next to her, she smiled at me and sipped on the warm drink. Her baby had died, but her life was spared. Her other five children still had a mother. In the early years, both would have died because even simple healthcare was not available.

There is still death and sadness. But life there will always be hard. The remoteness of life in the jungle makes it so. I am thankful that since the 1980’s they have had a medical clinic to treat their sicknesses and help mothers with their babies.

Many more have lived as I look around at all the beautiful children laughing and playing.