By Betty Muriuki
The ‘newborns’ unit at the Kenyatta National Hospital in Nairobi is alive with the lusty cry of babies. At the centre of the room, a group of mothers wash their new arrivals, handling them with great tenderness and soothing them with gentle voices. More tiny tots lie in tiny cots lining the walls of the large, warm ward, flailing tiny arms and legs in the warm air. But in a cot right next to the door, in stark contrast to all the noise and activity, Lilian Wawira lies very still under a yellow blanket drawn up to her chin. The only sign of life is the slight movement of her eyes when the blanket is lifted and somebody touches her.
Though she is as small as the other babies in the room, Lilian is actually two years old. She has lived in the hospital all her life, having been transferred here from Kikuyu Hospital soon after she was born in 2007 with cerebral palsy and hydrocephalus – excess fluid on the brain that causes the head to enlarge. Her mother left her in the hospital and disappeared, and the hospital ward is the only home she has ever known. She is fed, cleaned, and receives regular physiotherapy, but that is as much as the overstretched nursing staff can do for her.
In a paediatric ward, two other children lie motionless in their beds, feeding tubes protruding from their nostrils. Theirs is a similar story. They have cerebral palsy and were abandoned by their families. Unable to walk, talk or feed themselves, they are completely at the mercy of the hospital staff. Many were named by the nurses since no-one knew their identities.
“This is Agnes,” says nurse Diana Mbwaya. “She is six years old but only weighs 18 kilogrammes. She was brought in 2006 by the police. Juma is seven; he weighs 12 kilogrammes, and has also been here since 2006. He was brought in by a woman who found him on his own. Mercy is also seven, and she was brought by a good Samaritan in 2007; she weighs 11 kilogrammes.”
Cerebral palsy refers to neurological disorders that appear in infancy or early childhood, permanently affecting body movement and muscle coordination. It is caused by abnormalities in parts of the brain that control muscle movement. The majority of children with cerebral palsy are born with it, although it may not be detected for months, sometimes years after birth.
“Dozens of children are abandoned at the hospital every month,” says Florence Wachira, matron in charge of Children’s Ward 3. “Some are brought in by the police, or by sympathetic neighbours, or just left in the hospital by their parents. We work with the Children’s Department and social workers and we often manage to place most of the children in foster care, but it is very difficult to find homes for children with disabilities, particularly those with cerebral palsy, as they require dedicated care. We have nine such children.”
Good fortune fell on the nine children last month, when Grace Seneiya, founder of the Samburu Handicapped Educational and Rehabilitation Programme (Sherp), offered to take them in. A teacher and child rights activitist, Grace has run the home, located in Maralal town, since 1999, providing over 120 disabled children with education, medical care, and love that nobody else would give. Disabled children in the arid Samburu region are considered a bad omen to their nomadic families and are often left behind when their families move on. Some are poisoned with tobacco, or buried alive. Grace, who is a Samburu, has rescued many such children from the brink of death.
While the hospital was delighted with the offer, logistics of getting the children to the home presented a huge challenge. A journey by road to Maralal, 350km north of Nairobi, would take an average of eight hours, with a minder needed for each child, most of whom could only be fed through tubes as they were unable to eat on their own. AMREF’s Flying Doctor Service, which works closely with the hospital, offered to transport the children to their new home, cutting down the transportation time to one hour in the safe comfort of its 5Y-FDC Cessna caravan. Half the cost of the mission was borne by the Flying Doctor’s Society of Africa.
“We were happy to be part of this noble venture which will significantly improve the quality of life of the children,” says Dr Bettina Verdera, Director of Emergency Services. “The Flying Doctor Service regularly makes charity flights, and though this was not an emergency, we felt it was a worthy cause that falls within our scope of social responsibility. Taking the children to Samburu by air made a big difference in terms of convenience, because it took a short time, there was plenty of space for the children and they had a medical professional to look after them on the flight.”
As they were wheeled out of the hospital to a waiting AMREF ambulance, it was the first time the children had felt the sun in years. For Desmond Ochieng, it had been four years since he was brought to the hospital. He could not move as he was brought out into the warm sun, but 13-year-old Elma Kamonya stood in the bed as it was being pushed out, an expression akin to excitement on her face. David, 10, whose ability to move on all fours gives him a degree of mobility, looked about in wonder, his large white eyes darting back and forth. Flight nurse Charles Atemba distributed the children among a team of nurses, ensuring that everyone was comfortable for the short ride to the airport.
In the plane, seven children were strapped into individual seats, while social workers held the tiniest two. As Captain Bruce Allison guided the aircraft towards Maralal, Charles moved up and down the cabin checking on the tiny passengers, adjusting a neck pillow here, wiping some drool there, and soothing David from a state of nervous excitement into a calm sleep. The flight was uneventful. As soon as they landed at the airstrip, Grace drove up in a convoy of three vehicles, eager to meet her new charges. She hopped onto the plane and helped Charles unstrap the children, handing them down gently to her assistants.
“These children are now part of the Sherp family and we will look after them to the best of our ability. Though they are very healthy their physical and mental development has been slow. Being in the right environment will make a big difference,” she said with a smile. As soon as she had signed the release forms from the hospital, Grace drove off with the new additions to her family.
Finally, the nine children that nobody wanted had found a place to call home.
