Day 20:
I can only hold in the tears for so long. I try with all my might to hold it together
in front of the kids and have thus far been successful for the past 5-6 years
until dinner tonight. We took Samkelo
and Philo out to dinner and a movie. At
first it was super fun, they ordered humungous steaks and were stoked to be out
in town. But Mazwi wasn’t around. I
found out that he is on a trip until Monday.
That already bummed me out as I wont be able to say goodbye to him and
he didn’t know we were leaving on Monday.
When I told Philo to say goodbye to him for me, she said he was going to
cry. That started the tear ducts but I
was keeping the actual drops at bay.
Then I decided to take the time without Mazwi to learn more about how he
is doing. Samkelo said that the nurses
at his last clinic visit said “his soldiers are low” and Samkelo is
worried. (In Swaziland they describe the
T-cells/white blood cells as soldiers fighting an army against HIV to
children. When the soldiers are low that
means the immune system is very depressed and the disease level is much higher
and more dangerous) He said that a rash was appearing all over Mazwi’s back and
if the rash wraps around his body, he will die.
The second part of that statement sounded fishy and when I dug for more
info, I learned that it is an African/Swazi belief and this “condition” (this
rash that supposedly leads to death) can only be treated by traditional
healers. “Luckily” for Mazwi, there is
one located next door. After paying tons
of money and making Mazwi drink a bunch of concoctions of who-knows-what, he
isn’t feeling any better. That did
it. In a packed restaurant, I am stuck
in the middle of the booth trapped with people on both sides of me making it impossible
to crawl under the table and hide or dash to the bathroom and scream – both of
which sounded like better options than to sit in front of my kids who need me
to be strong and happy…and cry. The tears started silently rolling down my
cheeks in the booth, I ran to the bathroom, I sat on a dirty toilet seat fully
clothed and let it loose with such force that a man actually walked into the
girls bathroom to check on me. I told
him I was fine, but I wasn’t. I hate
that Mazwi is sick and wont get any better. I hate that his medicine makes him
hurt and he hates taking it. I hate that
there is medicine that will allow him a long life and with less side effects,
but he doesn’t have access. I hate that
these amazing children are alone. I hate
that they miss their mom. I hate that
they are hungry. I hate that they did
nothing to deserve any of it. I hate
that I cant do anything about their pain.
The teeny tiny things I am able to do are like putting bandaids on
cancer. No matter how much effort I
give, I feel like I’m trying to empty the ocean with a teaspoon. I cant ever bring their mom back, cure their
AIDS, endlessly fill their tummies, make them no longer feel pain or sadness…
Today I am feeling defeated and the only thing that will make me feel better is
a hug from Mazwi. I have been practicing
saying “I love you” in siSwati and I wont leave on Monday until he hears it. Every time I leave, I always wonder if Ill
get another chance.
Mazwi age 9, July 2012
Mazwi age 7, November 2010
Mazwi (on sister's lap) age 5, December 2008
Day 19:
Today when the team went off to see the primary school dance
competition, I watched Hannock’s eLangeni boys rehearse for their big day
tomorrow. It was nice to have some
relaxing time to bask in the sun as I feel like I have been going nonstop! When the team was done with the competition
they met me at the little kids (Maziya’s) house and we had them watercolor with
the 8 neighbor children. The kids made
pictures of themselves and their homes, but the littlest one with bowed legs
made the most beautiful colorful abstract picture I have ever seen!! We took all of our clothes we’ve been wearing
for the last 20 days so Philo could have first dibs and I told her whatever she
wanted that could fit, she could keep.
Wrong move. She said she could
make them all fit and wanted to keep everything! That was okay by me as the Maziyas definitely
have the least amount of support. The
boys played cars and soccer and the girls used watercolors and markers.
Gorgeous afternoon.
We then met up with Bheki.
He told us about an eLangeni soccer team made up of OVCs (orphans and
vulnerable children) who don’t have uniforms.
We went to Mr Matata and bought them an entire set complete with
numbered jerseys, shin guards, socks, stop watch, 4 balls, a whistle, a captain
patch, etc (Thanks Carmel Clay Middle School!).
It was late and dark and Bheki now lives in Matsapha so we thought we
were just dropping it off with him and leaving.
But then Bheki tells us to pull into the primary school and park near
the light. We hear running and look and
see a team of excited boys complete with a coach rushing to see their new
uniforms. Despite the cold, the boys
stripped right then and there to try on their new outfits. They jumped around, practiced their kicks and
hugged everyone – you’d think that they just won the World Cup! They were so excited!! It brought Kait and
Nate to tears.
Sizo asked Sydney today if she was going to come back to
Swaziland to see the kids. Before Sydney
ever responded, I stopped her. I told
Sizo that everyone WANTS to come back to see them and everyone loves them, but
it is very expensive and not everyone is able to come. I reminded Sizo of a girl I took on one of my
very first service-learning trips 5 years who promised to come back and has
never returned. Every time I come, the
kids ask if Erika is with me. It breaks
my heart. I told Sizo that no matter
what, I would always come back to see him and the others. I told them that when I am 88 years old, like
my grandma, I would still be coming even if he had to push me around on the
bumpy dirt roads in a wheel barrow. He
said, “ohh annie, I would never do that - I would carry you!” I wish I could carry all of the children… or
pack them in my suitcase. But Im not strong enough, and they wont fit.
My older brother has been asking me what kind of jobs we
could create in the village – he wants to help.
I have been thinking the entire time and finally came up with a few
ideas. Bheki said that there is a
machine in Matsapha you can buy that churns peanuts into peanut butter. The schools purchase a lot of that for
protein in the school lunches and he thinks with an initial investment of the
machine and employing people to plant peanuts that we could start selling to
schools near and far. I love that
idea! Also, as I was sitting under
Samkelo’s bountiful avocado tree, I was thinking about how easy it would be to
purchase a bunch of blackberry trees, avocado trees, and mango trees and plant
them at our children’s homesteads. They
can eat what they want and sell the rest – a totally sustainable and easy
business! Im excited already. If anyone
wants to donate to either project, let me know (anniefightspoverty@gmail.com) www.ifightpoverty.org
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