Michael KellyIn Tanzania, I witnessed miracles, writes Michael Kelly
Even though I’ve worn eyeglasses since I was a child, I’ve always taken my eyesight for granted. I remember when I was young going to Mass with my parents and hearing in the readings – especially the Gospel – about people who were blind and who sought healing from Christ.
I often reflected on how debilitating it must be to be blind. Close your eyes for a moment and experience the darkness: imagine getting up and walking around, trying to find your way around your home, trying to complete basic household chores. Imagine that this is your daily reality. And then contemplate the fact that 39 million people live with the crippling consequences of blindness. And then think that – for at least for 80% of people – the suffering and isolation is curable.
I say I’ve always taken my eyesight for granted. That came to a shuddering halt when I was diagnosed with glaucoma two years ago. Glaucoma is a leading cause of blindness and there is no cure and vision lost cannot be restored.
No symptoms
There are no symptoms – my glaucoma was detected during a routine medical check-up and I was quickly prescribed with medication. With regular check-ups and assiduous adherence to my medication regime, my condition will not deteriorate and further eyesight loss – while possible – is unlikely.
It has been a worrying period and one that was to the forefront of my mind when aid agency Sightsavers invited me to travel to Tanzania to see the vital work they are doing. By chance, my association with Sightsavers goes back a long way. When I was in college, I worked for a summer going door-to-door trying to solicit donations to fund the amazing work that the charity does in the developing world.
Tanzania is an assault on the senses: as soon as I arrived in Dar es Salaam airport I knew I was in a different world. I have never been to East Africa before and the chaotic hustle and bustle was something to behold.
As we travelled east along the Morogoro highway, the terrain became increasingly remote and increasingly beautiful.
My first stop was Mtibwa district hospital, I was stunned by the hundreds of people who were queuing, many of them waiting for surgery. At the nearby community centre, there were even more people being pre-screened.
I felt that I had been invited in to a privileged space. I met and spoke with so many people who had been blind for many years, some had lost the hope of ever seeing again.
Yet, the thing that struck me was the quiet acceptance: if being blind is difficult in Ireland, it is a hell in the developing world. Absolutely nothing is in place to make life easier. And, if one is unable to work, then one is unable to earn money. There is no safety net, no disability allowance and no blind pension.
Isolation
Time and again, people told me that one of the most difficult things to come to terms with was the social and economic isolation caused by their blindness. There was frustration about having to stay at home all day, often alone. The lack of ability to earn any money brought its own humiliation too.
And the sad thing – the maddening thing – is that the simple cataract operation costs as little as €36.
It was fascinating to journey with people from initial pre-screening and diagnostics, through to surgery to the following day when they waited patiently to have their bandages removed and – hopefully – their sight restored.
Everyone was extraordinarily gracious and welcoming. At times, I felt like I was an intruder: I stood before the patient as the bandages were removed. Often I was one of the first people that they had seen in many years. A fact evidenced by the amusement on their face as they pointed at me and said in Swahili “mzungu” meaning white person. At least it was ample proof that the operation was successful if they could see my pale skin!
“It’s a miracle,” one woman told me. And it certainly was. I felt during the week in Tanzania that I had witnessed dozens of miracles. Oftentimes when we give to charity or aid agencies, it can appear that the money is going in to a bottomless pit. In Tanzania, I saw the concrete and decisive change a small donation to Sightsavers can make to a person’s life.
Michael Kelly travelled to Tanzania with Sightsavers. www.sightsavers.ie
‘I had faith in God that one day I would see again’
Forty-year-old Joyce John has an infectious laugh and a smile that would warm the hardest of hearts. Seeing her joy as she waited patiently outside Mtibwa hospital in the blazing sun, it’s hard to believe that she’s been blind for 25 years.
She had been accompanied to the hospital by her daughter Maria who was carrying her son Raphael Shabani in a sling on her back. Joyce had bilateral cataract for 25 years. Her sight deteriorated to a point where all she could make out was rough shapes, light and dark shading, but all detail was gone.
Since her marriage broke up she has lived with her younger sister, her three daughters and two grandchildren. Her sister and daughter share responsibility for earning the money for the whole family, working as day time house maids.
Joyce and Maria had travelled by motorbike to the outreach, a three hour journey over rough terrain. “I had faith in God that one day I would see again.” Ahead of her surgery, Joyce said “I am really excited to see my grandchildren for the first time and my daughter Maria.
Huge hug
“I love Maria so much and the first thing I want to do when my sight is restored is give her a huge hug. Maria takes care of me and it was Maria who brought me here today.
“I’m not at all afraid of the surgery. If I can go through labour four times, I can do this,” she joked.
Maria revealed some of the struggles that her mother’s condition has caused. “It has been a very difficult year for us. There has been a lot of sadness. I felt very sad for my mum. When our father left us, we sold our plot of land and have been using the money from this to cover our costs at this time. I felt so responsible for her. When I was away from the house I knew she would find it difficult to manage and I felt guilty not being there with her. I worked very hard to raise money to eat and pay the rent for mum. While I was working mum was trying to mind Raphael. But now that Raphael is starting to move, it’s too dangerous for mum to mind him because she can’t cope.
“A complete person is a person with eyes. Without eyes you cannot work. You cannot live if you cannot work,” Maria adds.
I met with Joyce the day after her surgery. We waited patiently for the bandages to be removed from her eyes – it’s a tense moment. Sometimes while the cataract surgery is successful, there is an underlying eye condition. It sometimes happens that a patient will not be able to see. However, the moment the bandages came off, the joy and delight on Joyce’s face was a sight to behold. She looked around almost not believing what she was seeing but taking it all in.
“I am so very happy. Truly I didn’t expect it. God is great. I can see. Oh wow, the world is really like this? Today the world is new!”
Then she laughed and said: “I didn’t expect to see a white person. Can I tell you it has been a very long time since I have seen a white person.”
‘Is it really true that I can see again?’
Ibrahim Ally (69) lost his left eye many years ago. He lost the sight in his right eye due to cataracts two years ago.
“Before I lost my sight I used to farm maize and rice. My family now do all the farming and I feel bad that I can’t make a contribution. Sometimes I will go with my family to the fields just so I am not alone all day in the house, but I feel bad that I cannot help them,” he said.
But Ibrahim gives some insight in to the isolation many blind people feel in the developing world. “Most of the time I stay at home all day. My grandchildren have started to repair bicycles at our house so when people come to get their bikes fixed I can have a chat with them. I feel very lucky to have this company,” he said.
After his bandages were removed, Ibrahim initially seemed underwhelmed. “Very good, very good,” was his simple reply, but as the realisation dawned on him, his excitement grew. As the doctor cleaned his eye with cotton wool Ibrahim kept thanking him –“thank you doctor, thank you. Is it really true that I can see again? I feel so blessed today. Thank you.”
Then turning to his nephew with a massive smile on his face and clearly enjoying his improved vision he said: “I can see your eyebrow, really, I can see the hairs in your eyebrow.”
After the surgery, I travelled the short distance with Ibrahim to meet his family and friends in the nearby village. To see him walking unaided down the road and greeting his neighbours was very moving.
“I can’t almost believe it, I can see again,” he said. “I am so grateful to the doctors, and so grateful to God for this blessing.” As we sat with his family, they told me how happy they were for him. “I will be able to help with the farming again,” Ibrahim told me. “The gift of my sight is amazing.”
‘I find God in helping the poor’
Sr Dementina Kibua has been a nun for 36 years and has spent her entire ministry working as a nurse with some of the most vulnerable people on the planet. She is a theatre nurse assisting with the cataract surgery. “We go to where the need is greatest in the community and because we travel we reach more people”, according to Sr Dementina.
While she is based in the Morogoro Regional Hospital, Sr Dementina travels regularly to work in outreach clinics. “In the Regional Hospital, we get a lot of eye-care work done but we simply don’t reach the volume of people that turn up at the outreaches. This is because it is difficult for many people to reach the hospital. For many it is simply too far away and is too expensive for people to afford the cost of travel”.
Sr Dementina admits that the huge numbers of people who turn up at the outreaches is a challenge. “It is hard work, very long hours and at the end of the day you do feel tired. But I feel very fulfilled and happy to do this work. Imagine if we came here and found no-one! That would be a failure.
“The large number of patients arriving every day gives me courage and the energy to work hard,” she adds.
Sr Dementina dreams big. “For Tanzania I dream that one day we will have all the eye equipment we need to support eye surgeries appropriately. I also hope that we can have more outreaches across the country.”
Her work in helping the blind see is the key to her vocation. “I find God in my work with the patients and in helping the poor. A key aim of the work of the Church is to help the poor and the elderly. This work lets me do this.”
‘When a blind person can see, that comforts me the most’
Dr Sencodri Njau is a cataract surgeon and regional eye care co-coordinator for Morogoro. To describe him as a busy man would be an understatement.
He literally walked out of the operating theatre having completed a cataract surgery, spoke to us for ten minutes and walked back into the operating room to start another surgery.
“This outreach has been an enormous success. We expected 2,000 people to arrive for screening and so far over 4,000 people have arrived.
“We believe this is as a result of two things:
“Firstly, the regional government decided to support the outreach by investing in corrective lenses for people who need them. This meant we could encourage people to attend the eye screening by explaining that if they need glasses, the glasses will be provided free of charge.
“Secondly, we improved our advertising strategy. On this occasion we used two radio stations instead of one and the additional station, Planet Radio, is very entertainment-focused so has a very young audience. I believe this resulted in us getting our message that the outreach was going to take place out to more people.”
He is grateful for Sightsavers’ invaluable support. “Sightsavers is the most stable partner we have and has been instrumental in helping to ensure significant improvements in eye care for the people of Morogoro Region.
“It’s a strong partnership especially in relation to the outreach work.
“In addition to covering the costs of all the surgeries that take place over the course of the outreach, Sightsavers cover the cost of food, accommodation and transport for the eye-care team”.
Dr Njau is clearly a driven man. “I was not happy seeing people needlessly blind. I felt their needs were not being served well and I knew I could do something that would make a difference.
“I enjoy my work.
“When you are responsible for restoring sight, when a person can see again after a long time, that comforts me the most.”