Written by: Tanya Lasko (Program Coordinator)
A breath of fresh air…
I didn’t see very many men during my last visit to our centers in Angola. During this visit, I met Natalia (19 years old), her husband, Paol (20 years old), and their baby, Lurdish (12 months old). They live with Paol’s father on a farm where they work in the fields and sell produce. They were increasingly worried when Lurdish took a turn for the worst, especially since they had another daughter who died a few months earlier at just six months old. It is difficult to wrap my mind around young people experiencing this grief and having babies. Because of their experience with their daughter, they knew they needed to seek help for Lurdish, so they traveled six hours to the clinic. They were filled with joy when I met them because they’d been released the day before after Lurdish recovered and were ready to leave.
Margarita, a 27-year-old mom with four children, brought her youngest son, Dumingo, over 10km by motorcycle when he stopped eating. She told me he was born very weak, but when they arrived at the center, they discovered he had tuberculosis. They’d spent two months at the center by the time I’d arrived, and in that time, Margarita saw how well the nutritional milk worked to save her baby boy’s life. At home, she lives with her father, who takes time from taking care of her other three children to visit her in the center every day to bring food and supplies and keep her company.
I’d recently discussed the need for some community changes to make at the clinics with the team—fathers being present was one of them. These sweet examples of fathers leaving home to be present were an organic opportunity I was so grateful to see in action—it was a breath of fresh air.
It’s never easy
Walking through Benguela Hospital, I passed bed after bed and realized it wasn’t as full as last time. It gave me time to smile at moms, look at babies, and engage with each story around me. Last year, I learned that babies with discolored hair and distended bellies (edema) were most likely suffering from malnourishment. This year, I saw listless babies who were skin and bones wasting away or suffering stunted growth, all from malnourishment. These babies break my heart because I know if something doesn’t change soon, they will die. I’m grateful their families found a way to the center, even if it means they have a long road ahead to get to a place where they can thrive. In the journey to recovery, the moms have an immediate support group where others understand their experience of fear and desperation.
We see so much hope and recovery that I sometimes convince myself I can avoid experiencing the sound of guttural pain that comes when moms lose their babies. But on the second day of the trip, we visited the Catumbela Malnutrition Center in Benguela where we saw a woman carrying a small casket outside the center. Her cry stopped me in my tracks. The raw pain washed over me, and I understood her grief!
One of the lucky ones…
Throughout the trip, I had the opportunity to interview many moms completing nutrition programs and waiting for discharge. My heart overflowed with joy that they were past the hopeless stage of recovery and I was filled with gratitude that they would be going home soon!
Wykena (19 years old) brought her 8-month-old baby boy, Lucane, to the center by ambulance eight days prior. He’d been experiencing severe diarrhea and wasn’t responsive—he only weighed 3kg. She was scared he was going to die, but by the time I visited with her—just eight days after her arrival—Lucane weighed 5.4kg and was sitting up by himself, drinking milk. There was so much relief in her voice, knowing that the treatment worked permeated our entire interview. She kept saying, “I am one of the lucky ones!”
Even during the challenging moments of this trip, I was thankful to have spoken to hopeful moms experiencing the recovery of their babies. To be a part of blessing these beautiful women is a privilege, and I am so grateful for the support of our generous donors like you for going on this journey with us!
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Tanya Lasko
Program Coordinator, Saving Moses
