As I sip a cup of tea and going through pictures of the recently concluded medical camp conducted by CHIMAMM’s excellent team of volunteers, I am reminded of one of the things that struck me.

I, along with a few members of the team had an opportunity to directly deliver donations (specifically clothes) to some of the June, 5th 2019 mudslide victims. 

For starters, hiking into the hills was challenging because we were not briefed by the organizer, (I don’t hold him against not doing so), so we blindly followed him. As a good number of locals followed us, I wouldn’t help, but wonder what would happen if we reached in the hills and didn’t meet these people’s expectations. I wondered if the organizer had mentioned anything that prompted the crowd to follow us. My concern came as a result of my previous interaction with some of the victims of the October 2018 land/mud slides when we went for a pre-medical camp  site  visit.  While touring  the  potential site for 2019 medical  camp and the actual  area  (market place)  where more than hundred people  died, a group  of people  gathered  around  us, generously sharing their stories and  testimonies.

There came an angry man walking faster towards us and shouting in a local language  (neither I nor  any of my team members spoke or understood this language), with a machete in his hand. The driver came to where I was with a few locals listening to stories and he asked if we could leave quickly. He was worried that  the  man with a machete could hurt us. I declined  and instead  called for  a translator so that I could speak to the seemingly angry man. I perfectly understood his reaction after having a talk with him.  It was alleged that when relief items were given to the leaders, many victims didn’t get anything and those who did, had to pay the local leaders to get something. For example, if it were mattresses, one had  to  pay some  money  (not the actual  market cost) to  get  a mattress, the other way of acquiring relief items was how well one’s relationship was with the leaders in charge of distributing the items. 

So as we went up into the hills to visit some of the recent mudslide victims,  (others  were  in  a  camp/temporary  shelter and  there  was  a  cholera  outbreak  at the  camp during our visit),  I didn’t want hell to break loose especially with  a Mzungu (white person) this time. While we are trained to welcome visitors in my culture, I was unsure of the reaction of hurting and frustrated people. I watched Dr. Holt (Mzungu) as he walked energetically and clueless of what would happen if we didn’t meet the expectations of the people. I called out the organizer to ask if we were safe and secondly if we were close to getting to the site of where the mudslide took place. I was relieved when the organizer assured me of our safety but we kept walking endlessly even though I had been told that we were getting closer.

At the site, I saw huge logs  of strong old species of trees lying down. The mud slide came from the top of the hill flowing down the slope into the valley. Along the way, every little and big thing was covered by the mud. The most hurting one to me was the house (see picture below) that was buried along with a 10 year old girl. It was perplexing why only a kid’s life was claimed (not that I wanted many people to  die)  if  the  disaster happened at around  10pm. I was struck  to learn that when the mother of the deceased saw water flowing into the house (made of poles, timber, mud with an iron sheet roof), she went to seek for help  from her husband  (who  happened  to be  at  his  second  wife’s  home  about 2acres  away) leaving her 10 year old kid in bed. When they got back, they found the house on ground.  Accidents  happen, but  I  still  can’t  imagine how the  mother  of  the deceased  feels  about  leaving  her  child in bed even after  all  the  mud/ landslide experiences that the area has had. I keep wondering how she will ever come into terms with the death of her daughter and if she will ever forgive herself and later on be forgiven by her husband.