braces and bandages.

4.23.08

Katalemwa Cheshire Home in Uganda is a specialized hospital/rehabilitation center for children to live, and who are brought there to receive medical care from as far away as Congo. Many of the children have deformed limbs or faces, some have evidence of deep tissue burns, and others have a mental disability diagnosis. On Wednesday mornings, our ICY team spends a couple hours in a crowded classroom to lead songs, tell bible stories, and assist with arts and crafts.
The first time I walked into the compound about four weeks ago, I was taken aback by the children, some as young as three years old, struggling to walk with tiny wooden crutches. The sight of a small child limping in pain, with a metal brace extending from the interior of her leg, upset me. A boy who looked about six years old waved slowly and shyly to me from his little wheelchair. While I waved back, I hid behind my smile, unable to handle the sadness within his large, mocha eyes. When we walked into the classroom, there was already a small group of children waiting for us. So many had metal braces fastened through their skin, securing the bones in their deformed and broken limbs. The casts on the legs of a few girls sitting at the table were dirty and tearing off, and their dresses were tattered with lace trim dangling from the hem of their necklines. As more children hobbled into the room, some being held up by other children with casts or missing limbs, I struggled to take in the entire scene. The pain read on their faces. My eyes caught a little girl’s face wince as she tried to bend herself to sit on the wooden bench, using her hands to adjust her weak leg which was encaged by a metal brace. I didn’t know if I would be able to put aside the disturbed feelings in order to lead our program. However, as Ivan, Benon, Billy, and a few others of the local Ugandan volunteers began to sing a song, the room transformed. The children began to sway to the music, clap to the beat, and beam with excitement. Even the staff members at Katelemwa poked their heads through the open windows to watch and clap with the rest of the room. My nervous and upset feelings disappeared as joy rushed over me. I was astonished and delighted to see the room full of smiles. It was so simple- it took a song and silly dancing from our team to shift the concentration of the Katalemwa children from their pain to happiness.
Still slightly reserved, I clapped and sang to the Luganda lyrics in a back corner. Not long into the time we were there, however, a tiny and frail girl with lime green shorts walked over to me. She looked up at me with her bright brown eyes and the sweetest smile, and took hold of my right hand with her left. Her oversized pink tank top was too wide to keep both straps on her shoulder, so much of her little chest and stomach was exposed. I smiled down at her, and noticed that on her other side, a soiled bandage covered her entire hand, yet the deep tissue burn scars extended up to her shoulder. She seemed to be so overtaken with the music, swaying her hips and bouncing on her toes, she didn’t even notice anything else. I continued to smile down and watch her, and she giggled when I began to gently swing her unharmed hand. That was the final reminder I needed about why I have come to Africa and why I love to spend my time volunteering and working with people. God provided me with a small, yet significant gesture to reassure me in a time of doubt and worry.
Now, going to Katelemwa is one of my favorite projects to be able to contribute to during the week. While I will feel sadness when I concentrate on the pain and challenges that children so young and innocent face, I leave that reaction behind and rejoice in the energy that erupts in the classroom when Sam begins to strum his guitar, Ivan acts out a skit, or when we pass out crafts to help the children create. These children so look forward to the time visitors come to play with them and provide entertainment, but I think I may look forward to it even more!