Covered in Dust: Beautiful Girl

Last week, we set up a wound care “clinic” for the kids in Tegot. There were nastier wounds than I’ve certainly ever seen. The crazy thing is, wounds are treated here with no anesthetic. And when I say these wounds are big, I mean that in the States, to clean a wound like this, a person would be put completely under because the pain level would be so intense. The children cry, but rarely scream or try to run. People here are TOUGH!

Ajok Winnifred is six years old, newly sponsored, and stinkin’ cute. She had a particularly nasty wound. It was so deep that it was very near her bone and was definitely infected. We cleaned it out the best we could (actually, I didn’t clean it but held her arms while it was cleaned…a horrible task) and then took her into the clinic in town.

It took a couple days to get her into the clinic because we couldn’t find her in camp multiple days in a row. This caused a lot of worry for me because I knew she needed to be seen by a doctor as soon as possible…septic blood infection kept running through my mind. I spent multiple nights lying awake praying for her.

Side note: Ajok has only been sponsored a couple of weeks and has been very quiet, shy, and timid. Actually, I’m pretty sure last week made her scared of me because every time I saw her she got her leg cleaned which was very, very painful.

This all changed with a trip to the clinic. I went in the room with her and held her while the doctor cleaned her leg. She also has to have five days of IV-antibiotics because she had a slightly septic infection. And when I say she’s having IV antibiotics, I mean they are whacking her little body with some hard-core stuff. She’s asleep before they complete the infusion.

After day one I gave her juice and a banana in an attempt to counteract the massive amounts of medication they were pumping into her (bribery might have played a role too). She smiled at me but still wouldn’t come close. Day two (yesterday) she came by herself on a boda-boda and I met her at the clinic by myself. It’s still strange for me to have such a “mommy role” in the life of a child that is not mine, but I was happy to be there for her. After day two of treatment I gave her two bananas, two juice boxes, two stickers, and a lollipop. I’m pretty sure we’re best friends now. We got in some good snuggle time (and lots of stares from people who were undoubtedly wondering what a mzungu girl was doing with a small African child) and then she took a nap in my lap while we were waiting for a boda-boda to take us back to Tegot.

By the afternoon, she was a completely different child than the one I met a couple weeks ago. Before we left camp yesterday, some of the moms broke into spontaneous praise and dance. Little Ajok jumped up and down for a good five minutes straight and gave me at least 20 hugs. She’s smiley, energetic, and absolutely precious. Not to mention beautiful.