Anyadwe - Daughter of the Moon

Lots of deliveries yesterday and today we drove women home.  I went to one village just a short distance from here almost on the South Sudan border.  One little girl, maybe 9 or 10, looked at me and could not keep staring.  She didn't smile or react or anything, just a look of shock on her face.  She warmed to me after a few minutes (she took my hand with caution as I said “Afoyo”) but was very hesitant.  I was told she had never seen a white person before and was a bit frightened and curious.  The children began to call me Anyadwe or Nyadwe (ah nya dway). It means “Daughter of the Moon”.  I am sure it what they call most white women but I am claiming it as my own.

Today is Uganda's Independence Day - but given their history even recently it seems a strange title.  Last night there was music ringing through the air and the children all running around yelling "Hoot! Hoot!"  They finally went to bed but then very late (or very early) a man started in which woke all the roosters and then that encouraged him more and then...uggh.  It was not a good night for sleep.  I am prepared for even more tonight.

October 8, 2012

As I write this there is a huge thunderstorm.  The air is finally fresh and the rain a blessing. I wish it would last all night. Sadly, it will probably only last a few minutes.  

Today we were very busy in the clinic – 2 births, 2 transports to Gulu, and a woman who is in labor still.  After a few days of quiet it feels good to have the activity and chatter here again.  I love how all the children who arrive with the attendants are cared for by everyone.  I love how when someone is in labor the other women peak in and offer their encouragement.  Alone as these women seem while laboring, they are still in a community.  Tonight the clinic is also full of dads who came to admire their new babies and have time with their families.  While encouraged it is not an everyday occurrence.  And, to top things off the mama who birthed this morning brought a sheet!  It was a relief to me to see her more comfortable and clean up was so easy.  She had the most beautiful baby boy. 

Last night we had a labor very late and all three of us midwives came over.  As she labored we all rested in the hammocks, the bats flying above in the room.  It felt good.  And today Corrina arrived, another of the traditional midwives who works here.  She, Carmella, Florence and I hung out in the dark of my hut snacking and chatting and having a wonderful time just being women together, even without the language.  Florence does speak English and could translate but mostly we just sat and laughed. 

Carmella, Corina, me,  Florence and Stewart (everyone's baby)

I heard some very disturbing news today and almost cried when I was told.  The woman who we brought home yesterday, the same woman who I mentioned 2 days ago as looking so worn down, the woman who walked 4 miles home 24 hours after given birth…This woman was not served breakfast yesterday.  There is no excuse and it was deliberate on the part of the server.  Had I known I could have easily brought her food and tea.  Instead, she went home hungry and expected to start on her daily chores and care for her other 4 children.  How can she even begin to believe in compassion if this is how she is treated here?  Yet she never spoke up – that is how beaten down she already is. I am so saddened and feel that as a midwife I have failed to honor and protect the women I am here to serve.  I heard this happened once before last week and I do not understand.