A Special Thank You

This is a video I did for my former teammates at Rider High School who gave money to buy brand new Nike uniforms for the ABC Lions Soccer Team. They all sponsored the number they wore in high school in order to purchase all the jerseys. A special thanks to Patrick McCauley and Jeff Jacobs for coordinating the fundraising, purchasing the uniforms, getting them screen printed and to the team from Faith Baptist to bring to Malawi! We are truly grateful to the Lord for people who care about the students at ABC and are willing to help out in various ways.

Because of Jesus,
Jeff

Vitumbiko Nyoni

Catch up post. This incident happened in late February.

           Malaria has been bad this year.  I don’t know how bad malaria season has been in the past, but Dr. Young (who’s been here more than 5 years) says this is one of the worst.  One of the silly problems we face on campus is the students think they’re immune to malaria, so they don’t sleep under their nets that are issued to them at the beginning of the school year. They believe that since they’ve been in Malawi all their lives and they’ve had malaria before that they won’t get it or won’t have a severe case of it.

            Vitu was a really really good volleyball player. He was as tall if not taller than Jeff. He would spike it (or as they say in Malawi, bang it) really hard. The volleyball team gained a huge threat when Vitu joined the team at the beginning of the year. He was a freshman and in the little time he was here, he was proving to be a major threat to the other team during volleyball matches. He had one of those smiles that stretched from ear to ear. He was a quiet guy, but was a loud voice on the volleyball court. When he was asked who his friends on campus were he immediately would say the volleyball team.

            The volleyball team had a tournament in Salima (near the lake) one weekend. They played very well, and once again Vitu proved how powerful he was on the court. He wasn’t acting sick, didn’t hold back while playing, so no one thought anything was wrong with him. Monday morning Vitu went to a local government hospital. While you don’t have to pay to be seen at the government hospital, the line (or cue) is usually really long and it’s not always guaranteed they’ll have the correct medicines available. Vitu sat in the line and after some time (and having lab tests done) it was confirmed he had malaria. The medicines were not available for him to get, so Vitu went back to the ABC campus.

Side note: it has been rumored that there’s not enough or no meds readily available for clinics and hospitals to give out for malaria. There’s been a number of times that patient’s family members at our clinic said they went to another clinic or health center in a village earlier and they didn’t have the malaria meds, so they had to come to our clinic because we have them in stock. We’re not the only clinic that has them in stock, but we have them so we’ve had a larger number of really sick kids come to the clinic.

            Anyway, on Wednesday Vitu came to the ABC clinic and was diagnosed with 4+ malaria. We were unaware of how long Vitu had severe malaria because he didn’t have the test results from his previous visit to the hospital on Monday. Vitu was started on IV quinine that afternoon due to him having 4+ malaria, just like any other patient would have been. Before I left on Wednesday afternoon, I stuck my head into Vitu’s room to say that I was going home (or as they say knocking off) for the day. He looked fine, told me to have a good night and off I went on my 2.5-second walk to my house (which is literally a 2.5 second walk from the ward). About 5:30 that evening Vitu went unconscious. The nurses couldn’t wake him up. Michelle and Amanda, his volleyball coaches, were there shortly after Vitu went unconscious. Even though Vitu was in that state, he was still vomiting quite a bit of green emesis. The nurses were constantly cleaning up his vomit, and it seemed like no amount of medicine stopped him from vomiting.

Vitu’s vital signs stayed stable, and he continued to receive IV quinine, but now every 8 hours instead of every 12 hours. Danford, a medical assistant at the clinic, and Dr. Young were called to come assess Vitu. After much deliberation, it was decided that prayer and the every 8-hour IV quinine were Vitu’s best hope. Danford stayed with Vitu most of the night. Eventually during the night Vitu had to have a catheter inserted and his fever was uncontrollable. Sponge baths and lots of Tylenol (suppositories of course) were done to control his temperature.

            In the morning when I arrived at work I found Vitu in this terrible state. His uncle that is living in Lilongwe was there, and the uncle said he had called Vitu’s parents to travel to Lilongwe from Mzuzu (which is about 6 hours away, by car). All day we prayed, monitored, and prayed some more for Vitu’s condition to improve. Every time I’d walk into his room to check on him I’d sternal rub him and he’d move a bit. A few times he’d even open his eyes and flutter his eyelashes, but he never regained full consciousness. At this point his urine was turning dark brown. A nickname for malaria is black water fever since it turns your urine black, literally. He was proving to have this symptom. We checked Vitu’s parasite level on Thursday and it was only down from a 4+ to a 3+(this was after 4 doses of IV quinine, which usually drops your parasite level quickly). We continued his IV quinine and eventually his father and mother arrived later that evening. His parents were gracious for all the medical care, and many of the college students visited Vitu and pray/encourage Vitu’s family. I can’t begin to express the amount of students that were constantly in and out of the ward while Vitu was there. The nurses at the ward even started complaining because they couldn’t do any nursing care because Vitu’s room was always so crowded.

            Friday was another eventful day of IV quinine. No improvements were seen in Vitu’s condition. His urine was still dark brown, his parasite level was still 3+ and he wasn’t showing any signs of regaining consciousness soon. We still had hope though, because we had heard of a girl that had 4+ malaria and was in a deep coma for 4 days, and miraculously regained consciousness. She is a missionary family’s child who is attending Rift Valley Academy in Kenya. Again, we prayed and prayed for Vitu to wake up and show us that stunning smile.

            Saturday morning around 8:25 I was called by the nurse to come down to the ward, and to come fast. I knew. I rushed down and ran into Vitu’s room. The matron (charge nurse) and another nurse were present in his room. I felt for a pulse and felt none. I started chest compressions, but no one else moved to help. The charge nurse lowered her head I stopped. I stopped because I knew it was time for him to go be with Christ. His mother, father, and uncle were present. I ran down to the clinic and tried to find a clinical officer to come confirm Vitu’s death (something that is “required” to pronounce someone dead, or so I’m told by the nurses). When I entered the ward I could hear the wailing. I wrote in an earlier blog posting about the wailing that occurs after someone has died. Wailing is appropriate after someone has died because it conveys how sad the family is. But, to hear someone wailing after tragic events eats away at your nerves and soul. Vitu’s mother was by his side screaming and tears running down her face. The father had left the room, and an aunt was holding Vitu’s mother up while she was grasping his arm. I entered the room and the matron, Dora, had gathered a few of the nurses to help prepare the body for transport to the mortuary. While Dora and I were wrapping the sheet around Vitu one of the students entered the room to help. We asked him to get Vitu’s blanket from his room, and when he returned he returned with the blanket and a crowd of students. As we were waiting for the student to return with Vitu’s blankets (that’s what people wrap the dead body in temporarily before they prepare it for burial) I made the mistake of looking at Dora, the matron, and we both burst into uncontrollable tears. We hugged each other and sobbed. We didn’t realize it at the time, but the news of Vitu’s death had spread throughout the campus like a wildfire. A few of the students entered the room to help prepare Vitu for transport. Oh, we needed the help, because Vitu was extremely tall. When we were ready to wheel his body out of the room and into the ambulance we were greeted by a huge mob of students. We wheeled him out and I couldn’t move the gurney any further without hitting a student. Wheeling him down the hallway I saw nearly all the students. Walking outside I saw even more students along with several of the ABC faculty.

            Traditionally, the family members and a clinic staff member rides in the back of the ambulance to the mortuary, and the mother rides in the front seat. Rosemary and I rode with the uncle, father, and aunt. We took the campus truck and many of the ABC faculty took their cars and loaded up as many of the students as possible (also another tradition when someone dies. Everyone that’s around must/usually goes to the mortuary to unload the body). One of our nurses that knew Vitu and his family for a long time rode in the front with the mother because she was crying and heaving uncontrollably. The nurse held her the whole ride to KCH (to the mortuary) and I was very thankful to her for being there to comfort his mom. When we arrived at KCH Rosemary told me to have some of the students help put the body in the morgue. I selected a few students (strong students mind you) to help take Vitu out. I helped with the head and directed them to the room that the mortuary staff guy pointed out for me. When I opened the door there were already 4 bodies wrapped in colorful chitenjes in the room. Since I was at the head I had to go into the room first. The whole time I was thinking “please Lord don’t let me get stuck in this room.” We placed Vitu’s body in the room on the shelf where another body was already placed, and wheeled the gurney back to the ambulance. The family loaded back up in the ambulance along with all the students loading back up in the ABC faculty’s cars and headed back to ABC.

            Next we had to decide the funeral plans. In Malawi there’s a culturally acceptable protocol that institutions follow when a death occurs. After long discussions with the family (the seniors and leaders of the student body and the dean of students and the athletic director were directly involved, not me, I’m a girl so I can’t be involved because it’s not culturally acceptable) it was decided the funeral would take place Monday afternoon, but we would travel to his home village about 2-3 hours outside of Mzuzu (a 6 hour drive) the following day. I was asked by the uncle to attend the funeral since I had a lot of involvement in Vitu’s medical care. I was hesitant at first, because I was nervous about not knowing all the “culturally appropriate” things to do/say, but accepted because I knew I needed to put my selfish desires aside and go because it’d mean a lot to the family, and (I’d realize later on) how much it’d mean to me. So Jeff, Michelle, and I rented a minibus to take the volleyball team and the college rented a coaster (big bus) to take the body, the family, and a few of the students.

The following day we had the memorial service so all of the students could pay their respects. I was asked to give an account of what happened to Vitu’s physical body. I’ve always been nervous about being in front of people, but have been able to semi-keep it together when speaking in front of a large group. Not that day. I literally don’t know what I said up there, it was too hard, too nerve wracking, and I was trying not to cry. That trick that we learned the first semester of nursing school on how NOT to cry was being put to practice the entire time I was speaking. After the service we loaded up the vehicles and headed to the village outside of Mzuzu. The ride was uneventful, and we drove those vehicles on roads I thought for sure we’d have popped a tire. Anyway, we arrived at around 11pm and were greeted by the family. The uncle led us behind the house and introduced us and all the students that traveled as well (probably at least 25) to the elders of the village. The women were inside the house singing. Rosemary told me they’d sing all night, and wouldn’t stop until after the funeral service the following day. The women take turns, but they sing and wail and pray all night. After eating nsima, beans, and greens the girls (Michelle, Amanda, me, and some of the students) were lead to a house about 5-7 minutes away from the house where the men would sleep. It made us a little nervous, but we found out that a few of the male students were going to sleep near us, which made me feel a bit safer. We slept on the floor on reed mats snuggled up next to each other. One of the students that slept in the room snored so loud I woke up at least every hour!

The following morning we woke up and were told we could help prepare the meal for the family. As customary, the workplace/school/whatever pays for the meal for the family and funeral attendees. I found out this is the reason we brought the girl students. They were to prepare the meal while the guys went to the area where the funeral was to be held and sang. The guys were gone about 2-3 hours before they returned exhausted from singing for so long. They came back and sat right down while the girls continued to cook. Of course that didn’t sit well with me J

Next we made sure all the food was prepared (I learned how to cook pumpkin, Rosemary let us all stir the nsima) we brought it to the funeral area and also sang. We sang about 2 hours before anyone got up and spoke about Vitu. Then we lined up and all passed by the body to view it one last time before we took the body to be buried. After this processional men took 2 large long branches and placed the coffin on it and carried the body to the burial area. The entire village (ok over exaggerating, but it felt like a whole village) walked to the burial area. When we arrived many speeches were made. I was asked to speak again about what happened to Vitu’s body, and had one of the students translate what I said. That is harder than you think. If you’re not paying close attention you get caught up into what the translator is saying and forget to speak again. Also, if you say like, 3 words, sometimes it takes 3 sentences to translate what you meant! Anyway, I was able to do that on behalf of the clinic, and then Rosemary and I were part of the processional of placing a decoration on the grave once the casket was placed into the ground. After this we told the family we needed to get back to Lilongwe, as the students needed to return to classes. When we said goodbye to Vitu’s mom and dad, they asked that we return to their home village under different circumstances next time. They asked that we come and stay when it’s not for a sad reason, but for a happy one. This made Michelle, Amanda, and I sad, but we smiled and said we wanted to return some day soon. It was hard for me to leave Vitu’s uncle. I think that’s when I cried again. It was hard saying bye to the man I had prayed so hard with for Vitu’s physical recovery. After parting ways with the family we hopped back onto the bus and made the 6-hour drive home.

Looking back (and I literally mean looking back since this whole incident happened in February) I think this situation taught me how this earth is not the end of it for those who believe in Christ. Death is not the end of you it’s only the beginning. We don’t have to be super scared or sad about death because it’s temporary. Your life, my life, our lives are temporary on this earth. We get to see Christ when we get off this stupid earth! How amazing is that? We get to see Christ, our creator, the ultimate healer, the Maker, the Creator, the BOSS! This whole incident opened my eyes to that truth. While I am still sad and upset the whole situation had to happen, I now see the glory of Christ in it. I see how it was all in his plan.

Now, we’re more heightened than ever when someone, student or staff member, say they feel like they have malaria. I think we almost had malaria mafia around the campus. We will never forget Vitumbiku Nyoni, and I will never forget the student that brought such unity in a place. 

Vitu playing volleyball. He was AH-mazing at volleyball