After a long 9 hours of a journey from Lomé, I finally arrived in Mango (28th August, Monday). I travelled on my own by a local bus which made frequent stops. Different scenarios were playing on my head on the way to my new home. I arrived in Mango in the afternoon in my trouser (there is a strict rule on how to get dressed). I should have read that prospectus “before arriving in Mango”. I was told that this was my stop and the driver’s assistant pulled off my luggage in the middle of the road, and the bus departed. I was on my own- WTH! I have never been on my own in Africa!! I tried calling my contacts which I was given. None of them picked up at that moment; I started to make my way…… to where… ?left ?right ?north ?south…? ahead? Which way is it??! Locals started noticing and tried speaking with me. I then tried to reply in my limited poor French; I asked them, ” où est l’hôpital de l’espoir?” but with my bad accent and poor French, the locals struggled to understand.
Also, there are many tribes; rich in their languages, cultures, beliefs, and traditions. I tried speaking in English, hoping there was someone who could help me. A young guy did answer, but again, with his limited English, I struggled a lot. We were lost in translation- in English!!!
I then received a call from Susan (Lead Nurse Facilitator) saying she was on her way to pick me up. I was so relieved and funny enough she was there. She looked at me and asked if I had read the hospital’s policy booklet. She asked me to hop on her jeep, and she drove me to my new home,” Minister’s House.”
I, later on, found out why she asked me that question- I arrived in Mango in my trousers (not that it is forbidden), but this community is very conservative and wearing a trouser does not look modest (at least what we are told!). So there instant was a first- Red strike !! Ooooops!!!!Sorry!!!
I started to feel poorly from the day I arrived; from day 2 in Mango, I developed diarrhoea, increased lethargy, nausea, insomnia, had nightmares. This is the second time in Togo where I have been very ill. My housemates were very caring; they prayed for me, cooked, and checked on me now and then. They advised me to check myself in the hospital- but nurses do not want to do that, right? I gave myself a diagnosis:- Heat Exhaustion, food poisoning and nightmares- (maybe a side effect of doxy I had been taking for malaria prevention). I was all well and recovered by 2nd September.
I first heard of Mango from an American Missionary living in Lomé while still volunteering in PDH. She said there was a newly built hospital, and they were looking for volunteers, missionaries. I got interested mainly because it was an opportunity that resonated with my profession. Later on, I found out that this was the same hospital that my lovely kiwi friend Miriam (in 2016) asked me if I would be interested in and proposed that I tag along with her in the future.
I pictured Mango as a very relaxed tropical place with greenery, lush and full of Mango trees. However, the reality could not be further from the truth as I discovered that Mango was total the opposite of how I had imagined. Mango is raw, overwhelming and very challenging. Mango is very dry, humid and very hot. I have been experiencing hard, tough, frustrating days [ in clinical settings and personal levels]. In Lomé, there was a completely different lifestyle. People are more open, educated and accept the modern lifestyle. Mango is very different- it has a tightly knitted community, everyone knows everyone, highly influenced by strict Muslim beliefs, young girls are often given for marriage to older men. It is prevalent for a man to have multiple wives. Togolese are Animists; they greatly influence voodoo culture (even though it is Muslim). People do not come to the clinic, hospital unless they can no longer treat by a shaman or Voodoo magic.
We have witnessed parents bringing their critically unwell children, often babies taking their last breaths, and we have even seen babies dead on arrival. It is heartbreaking when parents beg missionaries health professionals to bring them back to life. We are just humans (just like them) broken, exhausted, weary and vulnerable.
On my first night shift, I was just handed over and checked on my patients. I heard people rushing and shouting “Code Blue” I had NO IDEA what code blue was!! Okay, if I have not mentioned this hospital earlier, I apologise. Americans build this hospital- in the States, “Code Blue” means a medical emergency/ immediate resuscitation, for example, cardiac arrest.
One first RIP baby (a few days old), we wrapped him with the hospital sheet, and the doctor handed the baby to his mother (younger than me). The mother holds her cold, still, dead baby in her hands. She was still as a rock- no emotions shown at all……. I was very shocked! The scene was so painful to watch. You could hear many babies from that unit crying, apart from hers! Every single time other babies cried, my heart pierced one more time; it was just unbearable.
In this culture, they believe that Allah forbids them to cry when someone dies because if you do cry, you are questioning Allah. So, therefore, you are saying that Allah is making a mistake!
The mother did not cry; she was there- motionless, her dead baby on her lap. I was there with my heavy heart, unable to utter a word; only our eyes were communicating a million words that we could not speak! I was with her silently, trying to support her: tears rolling down my cheeks, my nose producing an excess amount of bubbles, blowing nose frequently. At first, I felt like maybe I was offending their culture, their beliefs, and I feared that if they believed that because I cried, this child would not enter heaven. Of course, I do not believe it is true, but I feared that maybe I was delivering that kind of message! Either I had to remain like a Robot- with no human emotions, carry out working or holding this young mother showing my sincere condolence. What could someone do in this situation? I gave this mum a big, tight hug and prayed silently in my heart for this beautiful baby’s soul. That night was the first night of many I encountered children deaths.
I remember Deborah (older missionary) comforted me; she said one beautiful phrase, “When God squeeze your heart, you will bring out your emotion- tears.” And crying, weeping is okay! It is okay! Letting your tears out is natural; it is the human response to overwhelming emotions. Even Jesus himself showed an example of these emotions as he wept in front of his beloved friend Lazarus tomb.
Even though Mango is very remote, poor and dusty, it is also one of the prettiest places on Earth to see a bit of God’s beautiful plan. Moreover, what an excellent opportunity to participate in his grand plan!
We have shared emotional journeys, we have witnessed heartbreaking stories, but yet again, we have encountered wonders in the west! I feel like this is it! This is my calling! This is my destiny!! I feel content!!
