Yesterday afternoon, one of the children was brought to me because she was "ill". The two local teachers clearly assume I have medical knowledge, or at least more than they do, since every time a child is "ill" they are brought to see me. Usually they are just thirsty or ate too much sand in the sandpit. But this time was a little different. Taji is about 5 years old and has been coming to Cheka for over a year. Her breathing was extremely fast and shallow and she didn't look very well. I gave her some water, half a banana, and got her to sit quietly in the corner for half an hour, just to see if the panting was caused by over-exertion in the playground. However, it didn't resolve itself and, not really knowing what else to do, I decided to take her home.

Taji's mum Ashura is one of the illiterate ladies who comes to me for lessons in the evening, so I know her quite well. However, I had not been to her house before. It is only 5 minutes from the school, and a fairly typical set-up: one small room, about 3 metres square, with a mattress on the floor, a small table and a couple of chairs, all surrounded by the family's few clothes, cooking pots and other bits and pieces. I explained the problem, and her mum just said "its a cold, she gets it every time she plays down by the river". I was sceptical, since although i'm no medic, a cold won't usually cause that kind of wheezy breathing (I had carried her half way home, and therefore heard very clearly the chest problems). I told her mother to let her rest and I would come by again in the morning. If it was still bad, i would take her to the hospital. Ashura seemed a little bit phased by this, but I made sure that she was OK with that course of action. We then sat and chatted again, but I had to make my exit when I was offered some ugali as a snack...

So this morning I popped by their house again to see how things were going. Unfortunately little Taji was still poorly, and had apparently vomited during the night. I therefor called Sam, the school's Director, and he came round to help. We got a taxi to take us to a clinic in town. Ashura didn't come, so Taji was a bit scared as she very rarely ever leaves the area immediately surrounding her house. The trip in a car though was enough to quell her nerves!

We went to a small clinic in town, far removed from the fancy hospital I was taken to when I was ill. Whilst a bit shabby and run down, it certianly looked clean enough and well organised. We registered Taji and on payment of 4,000 shilings for the consultation fee, we were sent straight through to the doctor. He was a kindly man, who spoke some English but didn't ignore my attempts at Swahili and made sure I understood what was going on. I explained the problem and he took Taji through for an examination. She was very scared at being asked to lie on the table, possibly expecting an injection, but he simply listened to her chest and examined her eyes, nose and mouth. Incidentally, that is far more of an examination than I got!! He said she had mild bronchitis and explained he would give her a syrup antibiotic and some. It cost 13,000 shillings for the medicine, so about the same as I paid for my antibiotics at the posh clinic. All in all, I was very impressed with the treatment she received, and we were done in less than 30 minutes.

I decided she deserved a treat, so we went for some rice and chicken which she polished off with ease.

An empty plate and one very full Taji:

When I said it was time to go home, she asked if we could go in a taxi, which proved she had perked up enough to be cheeky! But how could I resist, so having bought a few presents for Ashura (some rice, sugar and chocolate biscuits) we went back home. I handed over the medicines, after explaining how to give them, but not without hesitation since I know that Ashura cannot read the instructions on the packets shoudl she forget. I will pop by again tomorrow afternoon, just to make sure, but I think Taji will be just fine.

I don't know if bronchitis can become serious if left, but since Ashura said its not the first time its happened, and was treating it with just aspirin, I am pleased to have been able to help her get treatment for her daughter. Nevertheless, as a "foreigner", "westerner" or "mzungu", whatever you want to call me, I am aware of the dangers of meddling in local cultures, imposing medical care where it is not wanted or of making people act in ways they would never normally do. However, I am also aware of why I am here and my conscience would not have let me leave a 5-year old girl with breathing difficulties.

As a result, I have decided to create a folder for the school where we can list any children wtih known medical problems and record any events that occur. This will hopefully allow us to keep track of any conditions, and should we be lucky enough to get someone with medical training through our doors, we can ask them to take a look at the children and provide any advice.

In the meantime, i'm too full on chicken and rice myself, so I think i'll have a nap...