Thoughts from both of us
Steve & Susan Vinton, June 24, 2007
There was a soft knock at my door this morning. What a surprise to see Sirudie, one of my students, at my door. “I was sent to tell you that Mama Witness has died.” This sweet, tiny mother of six was one of my best friends here in Tanzania. Our friendship began well over a year ago because she was sick and I helped her to get tested for HIV and then into treatment. Always cheerful, she of all people here gave me hope. If Mama Witness could return from near death then others could as well. And she inspired me and it was always just nice for me to enjoy her company and to stop in to see her. On Friday, Mama Witness started feeling bad and she died this Sunday morning.
[The ARVs bought Mama Witness an extra year with her children. The wonder that we don’t really understand about these medicines is that they not only gave her an extra year, they gave her a good year. Most of the time she was healthy, she was able to be a mom to her six children, she was able to love them and laugh with them. It was only in the last two days of her life that she deteriorated so rapidly and then was gone. The generosity of people far away meant that every month she was able to get on the bus to get to the Lugoda hospital to get those medicines. There was money so she had extra food in the beginning to help her get strong. There was money so she had a blanket so she wasn’t cold at night. I’m glad Susan was her friend. I’m glad you folks back in America are so generous as to help a lady here in Africa have a few extra months with her children.]
Ziada was running up the hill to catch me. This no small feat especially for someone living with HIV/AIDS! Last year, she was emaciated and frail. This year, she is a happy and lovely person. All smiles, she wanted for me to meet her neighbor Christina who she had listened to her own story and who wanted “to know her health.” (Euphemism for the AIDS test) Last year, I had told Ziada, as I tell all of my friends here who I try to help, if you get better, please tell your friends about AIDS and the help that will make them better. Ziada is one of the many people who are changing the direction of AIDS in this little corner of Africa. It is at the village level, friends telling friends about AIDS, and pointing them in the direction of help, that can change our area. It is Christians telling others about the love of Christ, about their Lord and Savior, that is what can change the course of eternity for these people. Eloquent speeches, flashy posters have yet to change behavior and they certainly have given no hope. It is the change in people’s lives, both spiritually and physically, that is light in this incredible darkness.
[Susan and her students, using all of those funds you folks keep sending to Susan’s benevolence fund, are helping now more than 370 people to get to HIV testing and treatment. The number seems to rise each and every week. Godfrey and I were at the Lugoda hospital this past week talking with the doctor and he asked me if I thought AIDS was any worse in our villages than in the other villages. I thought for a moment and found myself looking down at the floor and then shaking my head. I looked up at him and he said, it’s your wife Mr Vinton, it’s what she is doing. They say she’s out in the villages going door to door every day, she’s finding all those who are sick, she’s putting them on the bus. It’s saving their lives Mr. Vinton. What she is doing is saving their lives. I looked back down at the floor so he wouldn’t see the tears in my eyes.]
Xavier, however was too late for AIDS treatment to help. A tiny, kind father of two died last week. He was only 28 years old. We had spoken to him months ago about AIDS testing, but he never went. During Easter break, however, I went specifically to find him and insist he go. But he was too late for the treatment to help. What is wonderful though is that Sadiki (an incredible man of God who also has AIDS) went to tell him about God and salvation and Xavier, this kind man, died in peace and security. The transformation in a person who has met Him is real. There is no reason for a man to have peace while he dies the way people with AIDS die unless he knows that he has eternal life with Him. He whispered to me during our last visit – “thank you.” I pass his “thank you” on to all of you who have helped me to help these people. Xavier was such a dear man, but I am thrilled to know that the next time he and I meet, we will be saying “Hello.” Xavier’s wife and small children went to get tested today, so I have hope I can work now with them to stop the AIDS cycle of death in this family.
[Susan and I came here to Tanzania to start schools in these villages and to give hope to people for a better future for their kids. We built this first school here at Madisi in only 70 days. But during those early months I never knew that people all around us were dying of AIDS. It was the people who were still well, who were strong, they were the ones who came to carry the water and haul the stones and make the bricks. Those who were dying of AIDS weren’t out at the worksite with me and Godfrey and Emmanueli. It wasn’t until the school opened and Susan started visiting her students in their homes that the immensity of the tragedy here became known to us …]
It was only last year that we started “the AIDS Outreach” without even knowing at first that it was AIDS with which we were struggling. God introduced us to AIDS by giving us children to love. Two of the first six children died. We were too late and we didn’t understand our enemy – the enemy that impoverishes its victims before taking them. Nothing however can prompt the heart faster to respond than when you witness the senseless deaths of children. As a result, we are now serving over 370 households. In the last few weeks, we have lost a few of my friends – mainly parents – but the amazing turn around in the lives of so many is encouraging others to get tested. There are just so many people. And they are really nice people….
Involving the students in everything we do – that is one of our priorities we have in Village Schools Tanzania. I have five students who are my “helpers”, who travel into the different villages daily after school, following up on those who need help. We just added a sixth “helper” – a gifted girl named Basilisa who will help me specifically with the children by measuring arm circumferences and following up on their needs. When I took her out to train her, Masumbuko – an older brother of one of the little girls we are helping – was also at home watching us with great curiosity. When I asked him about school, he replied that he wasn’t attending anymore because he didn’t have a uniform. This is often the case and we are doing what we can by providing the primary school children the very basics to keep them in school. On the road home, Basilisa said that she wanted to make this boy Masumbuko his school uniform. Made my day. It is so inspiring to see my own students prompted to reach out to those in need – especially when they themselves are also in real need. The wonderful thing is that no matter how much you are in need you can always find someone whose needs are greater than your own. Truly the Lord works in the hearts of his people.
[The government decided in 2001 that every child in Tanzania should get to go to primary school. They even waved the $2 fee that they had been charging for kids to enter the first grade, and enrollment in these villages – and in villages all across the country – jumped as the number of kids going to the first grade more than doubled. But there are still the little kids like Masumbuko whose parents have so little that they can’t even afford to get the couple of bucks that it takes for their child to get the school uniform so the kid can go to school. When Susan shared with me about Masumbuko and Basilisa, what is wonderful is not just that Masumbuko will now go to school but that Basilisa, one of our students here at our high school, who really has nothing herself, is the person God is using to give Masumuko the chance to go to school. Susan and I are can not help but feel blessed to be here.]
This afternoon amid the chaos of finishing the semester and starting summer break, a group of ladies showed up at my door. It was a pretty solemn group and we discovered that their sister-in-law died yesterday in the midst of pre-maturely giving birth in the village. The 32-week child was wrapped up in a blanket and somehow they came to me. We found an eye dropper, warmed up some powdered milk and found the entry in my Village Medical Manual on premature babies and instructed ourselves and the women on the care of this little child. The baby loved the milk, and took right away to the eye dropper, so I have a sneaky suspicion that she is just hungry and needs some encouragement. They left towards their village armed with powdered milk, blankets, clean water, our prayers – and a determination to keep the baby alive.
I’m not sure how so many people find us here. Word of mouth I guess. I think we are serving over 370 households with those living with HIV/AIDS. I don’t know when or if the experts are every going to succeed in finding a cure for AIDS, but until they do, we will show our friends here His love, by serving them in their time of need. The joy of watching lives being restored both physically and spiritually spurs us on. The Lugoda hospital originally planned on serving 200 people from the entire area. We are sending nearly twice that many every month just from our little cluster of villages. I guess we are helping to overwhelm the system! But the doctors and nurses welcome them all. Some days it is overwhelming this AIDS problem, other days I have only joy in my heart. We serve God who values life, who loves people, who wants us to care.
[Sirudie woke us up this morning with the news that Mama Witness had died. Susan is busy in the kitchen now leaving instructions and getting things organized for the party tonight – we’re celebrating a few days late Joshua’s birthday but he wanted to wait until Emmaneuli and Janerose and Pauline were back from their vacations – and soon Pauline and Susan will be off to the village for the funeral and burial for Mama Witness. And as I sit here and ponder it all I keep seeing over and over the image of Mama Shadrack who came on Tuesday when Susan was out in Mkonge. She is without a doubt one of the poorest of the women I’ve seen here, she had walked all the way from Ikaning’ombe with her little baby Shadrack on her back to show Susan that her child was getting better and better and was healthy since Susan had been sending her milk. She brought a gift of greens – leaves from pea plants – to say thank you. You have to be awfully poor for your gift to be a small basket of greens – but I remembered thinking as I received her gift on Susan’s behalf that the poorest of the poor are often the most generous of the generous and shame me and challenge me at the same time. What I know is that my wife is loved by people throughout these villages here. No husband could hope for anything of greater value for his wife. How blessed Susan and I are to be here.]