An off day...

My day yesterday began at 5:30am.  The plan for the day was to take Njenga and Naserian into Kenyatta National Hospital for follow up appointments.  Assuming that Njenga was cleared to go back to school, we would head north to Kikuyu Town to Waithaka Special School.

Tony showed up with Sho-Sho and Njenga.  Agnes would not pay for Naserian's follow up appointment at the hospital, so she went to school instead.  Naserian had heart surgery back in 2009.  Remarkably (or not), Agnes has not taken her to the hospital for a follow-up since.  Each time I have questioned this, she has said that an appointment is scheduled "at the end of the month" - always right after I leave.

We got to Kenyatta at 8:00am, parked in a lot across the street and began what turned into a 5 hour wait to be seen by a physician.  Njenga does not wait well.  When irritated, he has a tendency to scream.  Blood curdling, window breaking screeching.  Each time we moved him from one queue to another, he resisted, screaming and holding his body so tightly that moving him was akin to moving a 150lb iron statue.  He did manage to reach out and grab, pull and scratch innocent bystanders along the way.  Thankfully, everyone was understanding, even amused.

When we got to the final queue, we were back to where we started.  I thought, dear God, how long is this going to go on?  Sho-Sho was doing her best to keep her eyes open, while I sent Tony for gomu (sweet cakes) to keep Njenga quiet, all the while chatting with people sitting in our area.  I couldn't help but make comparisons on waiting room situations in the US.  Here, there was no complaining, no frustration, just acceptance.  

The examination room we went into is more like an assembly line of physicians.  There were 9 of them, lined up along a window, with a view out onto a park.  The doctor who 'examined'  Njenga prescribed new medicine and without so much as a stethoscope to the chest, pronounced him fit to return to school.  I asked a few questions about the medication, gave her Agnes' contact information (she is culpable, no one else) and scheduled the follow up appointment for late January, when I will be back. 

While Tony went to wait in the queue to put a deposit on the follow up appointment (550KSH) I helped Sho-Sho take Njenga out to the car, because he was in full meltdown mode by now.  Once they were situated under a tree next to Tony's car, with water and more gomu, I headed back to stand in the payment queue for medication.  GAI.  Clearly, no one enjoys standing in this line, because no one bothers to wait in it in a reasonable fashion.  After being pushed out of the way one time too many, I stood my ground, using my very heavy back pack cemented to my back, as my weapon.  It worked.  Off we went to the final queue on the opposite end of the hospital, to wait for Njenga's medication.  I can say one thing with assurance:  I will never complain about a hospital wait again.  Never.  

Tony and I headed to the car, thinking we were home free.  What I saw next will haunt me for some time to come.  We walked past the security gate at the very moment a baby died in her mother's arms.  I froze, while Tony continued on.  This woman was, naturally, inconsolable.  There was nothing anyone could do, of course, yet her cries of desperation were so raw, so poignant and painful that they shot to the depths of my soul.  There was nothing to do but cry.

It must have been 1:45 or so by the time we reached the car.  Sho-Sho and Njenga were still sitting where I left them, but a car had now double parked in front of Tony.  Leaving us trapped.  I asked Sho-Sho where the driver was, and she shrugged.  Kenyans don't seem to care about these kinds of things.  Naturally, lots of people came over to comment on the situation, laughing and (more shrugging) as if to say "Oh well, what are you going to do?".  Thinking about Njenga, and getting back to the children in time for dinner, I said " Let's just pick up the car and move it".  It was a tiny car, not like a Smart Car, but similar.  With the 15 people standing around looking at the car, why not put our energies to use?  We could have easily done this, but they just laughed.  I got one of the 10 security guards sitting under a tree, and asked him what the procedure was, and he had to think about it.  GAI.  Just go get the 'clamp' I told him.  30 minutes later, he found a clamp, similar to the 'boot' in Boston, and locked it on the front right tire.  At 3:00, the owner of the car in front of Tony appeared, so we exited THAT way.

Waithaka Special School is only 45 minutes north of Nairobi.  I immediately felt comfortable here - the school sits up above the slums of Dagoretti, on a hill surrounded by two schools and a brilliant green pasture to the north.  We were greeted by the head teacher, who was competent, kind and clearly in charge.  We chatted for awhile about Njenga, the program, potential progress, routine etc...  Typically, Agnes was not on the contact form.  I changed this, putting her in as the primary contact, with Tony and Sho-Sho as secondary.  This is a government institution.  Neither of them understand what this means.  Agnes, of course, knows exactly what this means, which is why she didn't agree to be listed as Njenga's guardian.  In fact, she insisted that Tony 'illegally' enrolled Njenga and she would not support the action.  I made sure that the school now knows who is responsible for this child, his well being and his required medication.  No exception.  Tony is simply the driver.  

Njenga was gently taken to a classroom by a lovely matron.  I watched him walk away with his teddy bear in one hand, two balls in the other, and did my best not to cry.  Njenga deserves this chance, and I am thrilled and grateful that his sponsors have made this happen.  Yet, to see him walk away, turn back and smile just about broke my heart.  I got into Tony's car and fell asleep, arriving back at Whistling Thorns at 6:00pm.  My head hit the pillow at 8:00.

This morning, Cary and I are on our way to start attacking a long list of necessities.  We will meet up with Peter, Sam and Emma in time to begin the shuttle back and forth from school at pick up time.

A few pics on the way to Njenga's school:

Kwaheri for now ~

Baadaye,

Simmie and Papa