This morning, I heard that the Tb baby died. I knew it was only a matter of time before this would happen and I mourned this baby's death when they did not receive Tb medication.
Two things really gripped me this morning. First, this baby's death was not worth mourning by the community. There are of course reasons for this. Most families will lose at least one child if not more before the age of 2. If the community mourned every death, they wouldn't have enough food to sustain them (because they need to feed all the guests) and emotionally they wouldn't be able to function in society.
I was told this morning that the baby died on Saturday. Interestingly, I heard crying in the night and I wondered: Has the baby died? But since no one told me, I assumed it was something else. This baby died without any official mourning and no one was invited (though I hope some neighbours went to visit). When Rolf returns, I plan to go as well. I trust the Lord will provide me with words of comfort.
Second, the family went to the gafiya (female witchdoctor) two days before the baby died. They gave the gafiya a sheep for payment. Payment for her to perform traditional medicine that is deceptive and harmful. This family does not understand illness in the way that we do. They are willing to try whatever might work. They didn't know what was needed for their child and they didn't receive the correct medication. Or maybe it wasn't worth giving Tb medication to a baby?
In order to live in this context, I have learned to partially disengage myself emotionally or I would not last. But there are times that I weep over needless suffering. Seeing the Gumuz deceived by those in power and without basic knowledge in how to care for their children grips me. They are like sheep without a shepherd. My hope is that they will soon call on the name of the Lord and be saved.
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