sierra leone – a dream
Like every good story, this one finds itself at the end of a twenty-one hour work shift. I had found myself in Tesco express, when even the first rays of Sun dare touch the ground, trying to justify why I needed twenty-four boxes of paracetamol and ibuprofen. I had initially decided to buy pain relief in small quantities over a protracted period of time, avoid suspicion that way, but like always time had crept up on me. Thankfully the cashier believed my reasoning, and so I left to return to a home I had barely seen for seven days.
Mums, as mums usually do, had gone overboard with my offer of being a few things for my trip. I had stumbled into a Wonderland of sweets, toys, crayons and books of varying levels. My suitcases were eventually filled with analgesia, paraphernalia and minimal quantities of clothing. Time again had caught up to me; I was late. ‘Hi sir, can’t you see me?’ Of course he couldn’t, I was still in my lounge. But in no less than half an hour, my car was filled with nine suitcases and three humans, a proverbial Tetris if you will. In our cosy seating arrangement we found excitement in what this week had in store. And so we begun our long journey, myself, Sue and Mr Power (what a name right?!), hailed off with the sound of Disney, but it was not the Huns we were off to battle with, but the desperation of a world needing help.
At the airport, like every noble leader before him, stood Ant, a man who had accomplished no less than liaise a group with medical registrations in hand to travel to Sierra Leone. By his side stood Dermott and Gary — our anaesthetic team. From my experience of travelling, the key factor is not the location but the individuals you surround yourself with. Imagine Las Vegas with a monk, or the German Beer Festival with a man battling sobriety. These were my kind of people; passionate, fun and laid back. It even made me less fearful of plane which had probably last flew in the bosoms of clouds during the late 1990s — colour TV screen admittedly, but barely. In truth, all jokes aside, I was too excited to care.
I had long held a dream of doing aid work since medical school, but the opportunity had never presented itself. I had searched in my younger years, and been told I had not achieved the required level, and so I worked hard daily. I had chased this dream for years — every minute, of every hour, of every day at work. And here I was. I think in life, helping people creates ripples of kindness in the world. Those very ripples make the world go around. At the simplest level I cannot think of better way to live than become a ‘ripple creator’.
Sierra Leone is a West African country I had seen many times on the news, documentaries and movies whilst growing up. It had been ravaged by a civil war lasting over a decade between 1991 and 2002. A war leaving no less than 500,000 deaths in its wake. ‘Serious and grotesque human rights violations’ and ‘horrendous abuses’ were terms used in the international court papers to describe the events leading to the use of child soldiers. Approximately 25 times more deaths occurred in this country, than in Kosovo, before the International community decided to intervene. In more recent times, Sierra Leone, which seemed to be on the mend, was then hit by the Ebola epidemic — another collateral loss of life. With only 60% of the country having access to safe drinking water and minimal healthcare available in rural areas, NGOs (Non-Government Organisations) stood in to help a country in ready need of it.
As our plane glided in the air (just), I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of this sad country adorned with mountains and lakes, all frame by the warm hue of the Sun. In all my travels, I had never been to this amazing continent and wondered what would greet us — more so if at the end we could have made even a small difference. Keep tuned to find out if we did…