Walking Naked: Blessed to Be Challenged

Today, while washing my face in the morning, I was tempted to rage at God for taking His time in keeping His promises to me. After all, doesn’t God’s Word in Proverbs 13:12 say “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, But when desire is fulfilled, it is a tree of life.”amp. But in that instance, God took over my spirit, and a thought arose above that which had preceded it “Even if it takes 400+, 70 or 22 years, I will keep packing, keep waiting for Your deliverance for YOU WILL COME.”

I realised this: It does not dishonor God to acknowledge one’s challenge, pain [[i]Romans 4:18-22, [ii]Hebrews 11:11-12] – what dishonor’s Him is to raise whatever it is above Him. To say in essence that He brought me to this trouble, and then left me. He is not a mere man to resort to such – After all isn’t He The One Who became and then overcame manhood to retain His Divinity? And isn’t it what I am called to?

So, in the last weeks my family has gone through an intense increase of occurrences on attacks on our health, seeming brazen heavens regarding our finances, deep debt and are currently walking through a season of eviction and are at limbo over exactly where home is. Loneliness bites, as associations stream out faster than you could take your next breath. I have known deep despair to the point of seriously considering taking my own life. Worse for me, is seeing those we love go through similar and sometimes even worse situations, and finding ourselves in conditions where we could be counted as absent to them in their time of need, because we could neither go to them or be of any assistance.

Key for me, has been my parents. This week for instance, things have been so hard for me that most of the monies received has gone directly to the hands of my landlord leaving me with nothing left by way of transport to go to them. The cabbie who normally extends affordable credit to us was arrested earlier on in the week for obstruction, and being unable to raise the fee stipulated by the courts, finds himself in a remand prison out of town. This, aside from the fact that I already owe him too much to even ask him for assistance if he was available. This was the week in which I desired mostly to stand with my parents as Daddy went through his clinics to receive an update on his health status. But I have not been able to.

Yesterday, I was reading through the chapter in the book of Isaiah [[iii]Isaiah 20], where God commanded him to take of his shoes and be naked before Israel as a symbol of God’s intention for His chosen nation. As I read that, I too felt naked, and empathised with Isaiah – THREE YEARS OF NAKEDNESS! Each day he lived through that must have felt like a year in itself. People looking and not looking, while seeing and not seeing, and making often unkind judgements about where you are at. About how you are. About how it should be worse for you…

And yet, God is bigger than all these. A week later, although we are no longer thought of as tenants in this house, we remain in it. Packed, but yet undisturbed aside from the constant visits by the agent demanding what we owe. God has also directed my focus on Him as my true Home. He also led seven prayer warriors and three old friends to give towards reducing the gap on what I owe the landlord. I am humbled, we are grateful for their initiative. We still owe, and we still have no idea where we are going. God has been Good to us, His Grace constant.

In this time, members of my household have received one attack on their health after another. Each time, without fail, there has been someone standing with us, who obviously would rather be elsewhere or spending their resources on what would benefit them and theirs. God placed them by our sides to bless them, to bless us and bring Glory back to Him. It has been for me extremely humbling – so much that there is no sense of relief for having received for the perceived deep wounds by those who have given. Still, we have slept and connected with God in our sleeping and waking hours. This too is God and His Grace. Oh, and in each of these cases we have received courage, God’s promise and healing. My daughter who emits chaos and mayhem at the mere sight of an injection told me last night that she had by herself taken off the stitches she received on her forehead two weeks ago after a fall, because we could not raise the money for her to go back to hospital for their removal.

Shame is a luxury we can no longer afford. A close friend of mine who faces an eviction from her servants quarter house, who had for years received a salary of approximately U$5,000 told me the same. Her seeming downfall has been so public that she stands poised, enraptured, expectant of her breakthrough from God. She too has been an invaluable treasure to me in this season; You see, when the world seems to fall on you, we are tempted to think that God is picking on us and giving everyone else a vacation. It helps our sanity to have someone to converse it who is both compassionate and empathetic, because they are either walking or have walked that path. There are many others, who have passed through this while I was still in it, overcome and turned back to judge me for not getting out as fast as they have – that was our mutual story. I laughed all through our phone conversation this week – of cause interspersing each spasm of humour with a sincere ‘HalleluJah’.

So, today I hurt. I have no idea when God has scheduled my healing and breakthrough for, but I am not alone. The One in Whose Hands I have trusted my life, assures me that in a place above and beyond time – I have made it through. I have not failed Him. By His Grace, I do not have the timings and the details of how this will unfold, but He has already convinced me that I am blessed of Him to be this way challenged.

Shalom.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

[i] Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as he had been told, “So shall your offspring be.” Without weakening in his faith, he acknowledged the decrepitness of his body (since he was about a hundred years old) and the lifelessness of Sarah’s womb.

Yet he did not waver through disbelief in the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God was able to do what He had promised. That is why “it was credited to him as righteousness.” Romans 4:18-22

 

[ii] “By faith even Sarah herself received the ability to conceive [a child], even [when she was long] past the normal age for it, because she considered Him who had given her the promise to be reliable and true [to His word]. So from one man, though he was [physically] as good as dead, were born as many descendants as the stars of heaven in number, and innumerable as the sand on the seashore.” Hebrews 11:11-12 amp.

[iii] “at that time the Lord spoke through Isaiah the son of Amoz, saying, “Go, untie the [a]sackcloth from your hips and take your sandals off your feet.” And he did so, walking around [b]stripped [to his loincloth] and barefoot. And the Lord said, “Even as My servant Isaiah has walked [c]stripped and barefoot for three years as a sign and forewarning concerning Egypt and Cush (Ethiopia),” Isaiah 20:2-3 amp

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33 and 77

The numbers 33 and 77 have been appearing enough times in my life, since perhaps April for me to notice them.

77 was particularly special for me when Daddy was at his worst in ICU. I would come in early, and sit in with him while waiting for the rest of the family to come. I would listen to the different sounds, Daddy’s breathing, the different beeps of the machines he was connected to, then inevitably God would cause my eyes to turn to the numbers on the monitor. EVERY time I saw the number 77, I knew God was in control. He would whisper to me “My Heart is Perfect towards you Vip.” I would relax…and journal my thoughts. Its been the same since…no matter how rough things got, God would somehow find a way of sending 77 my way – “My Heart is Perfect towards you, Vip.

This morning, I turn on my laptop. 33 shouts at me. Its been a challenging weekend for my family health-wise, but also, mainly victorious in Christ. First, my grandson Gio woke up from his nap on Saturday evening and drank a quarter of a bottle of Dettol Antiseptic. As we were handling this, I get a call from a number I did not know, “Are you Shukurani’s mother?” Those calls…

Apparently, my baby had fainted at her place of work. I got money from my hairdresser friend in order to take a motorbike (bodaboda) to meet the caller, a lady called Eunice (God bless her). When I got to the Health Center at Nyayo Estate where she was, I was met by a lady called Juliet, who hugged me though I did not immediately recognize her. I penned her down for hospital staff, and thought the worst. But I could hear Shukri’s voice shouting “No, No!” and the doctor and nurses around her trying to calm her down.The receptionist was asking me for the consultation fee and I just looked at her and said, I didn’t have it but wanted to see my daughter. I was met by the sight of her bleeding face, and noted also she had thrown up. Well lets just say several stitches, tests, injections, scans later we were finally home at 11:45pm. Hypertension kicked in on me…Sunday morning we were again first in the clinic. For Shukri not me. She was fine. Doing a lot better. Gio was fine, playing. Then yesterday there was me – Fatigue, Hypertension and two teeth aching. Finally in the evening, Dr. Simon calls me in for an injection to help me go through the night. Thank God for friendships.

So back to 33…I put my laptop on this morning and my yahoo and facebook are both reading 33. I wonder what that means for me today…and I Google this even as I ask God to speak to me. “Vip it is accomplished. It is finished.” I rest…

Eunice means ‘Good Victory’, Juliet means ‘Youthful’ and Simon means ‘hear, listen.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

Strike Your Shepherd Scatter Your Brethren

The LORD IS my Shepherd.
Recently, Leroy (my son) and I were standing side by side early morning on our balcony, looking out mostly quietly at…just about anything that passed. Its where and how we bond many times. Suddenly a flock of sheep bust into our view (yes we live in Nairobi city) running in one direction in a way that reminded me somewhat of a waterfall. We watched, partly because there was nothing else to see at that time, but for me, because I sensed deeply that God was speaking to us about something.
 
Leroy remarked on the beauty of the flock, I agreed saying that God often spoke of us as Sheep. We noticed that a few of the sheep broke off in two groups, running in different directions from the rest. Suddenly the shepherd rushed into our view as well. He was a short, slightly built man wearing tan trousers, a luminous green shirt and a pink cap. I smiled. He had this long cane, that I believed could reach the from one end of the flock to another [his rod and staff – they comfort me].
 
Apparently the entire flock had herded and were eating from a place he did not want them to be. He rushed first at the majority of them. I marveled at his agility…knowing that this was a daily and day-long activity for him. He rounded the sheep…in my mind it seemed he chased them, rod in hand to the direction he wanted them to be facing, before running after the other five that we probably eating somebody’s house plants some way up our street, before finally coming for the two standing before our house.
 
Somehow, his activities made me think of leadership… of church leadership, and my spirit was humbled within me. Each one of those sheep had a mind of their own…but most tended to head towards the direction that the ones in the front row were headed. Some more independent ones got up to their own devices, in their own directions. Two things stood out for me from this morning scene – the passionate resilience of the shepherd in re-channeling the flow of the sheep to his way, and also, that as long as they were not following the way he wanted them to be on, despite their independence, the greenness of the meadows they ended up at, they were ALL wrong. And then my friend sends me this sadly hilarious video clip :). It reminds me of the biblical proverb – strike the shepherd and scatter the sheep. And that its not always an exterior enemy that brings down the shepherd, but a sheep in his or her care. Thanks Nyar Ruoth.
 
 
#HeWhoHasEars
vipslit@yahoo.ca

Perfect Stains

IMG_20170515_142112.jpgI have sensed in my spirit God leading me to wear my yellow Buobou with the pink and blue flowers, that I had not worn in a long time, since I woke up this morning. As ironed it, I noticed that it had stains, that in that light and given that it was a faint coloured garment, looked like faded blood stains. I wondered at this, because I wash my cloths carefully after every wear. It was otherwise clean. I tossed it into the place where I keep laundry making a note to deal with the stains as soon as I was done ironing. I went to the suitcase where I keep my clothes to make a choice about another outfit but sensed The Spirit of God speaking to, and nudging me: “So what if it is stained? It is what I want you to wear today. Don’t you think I knew that it was stained before I commissioned it for this day? I considered all about it, including those stains and knew that your wearing it in obedience would make it beautiful in My Eyes.” I got it immediately: He was talking about more than the dress.

Vip, tell them, tell them that I have said – ‘So what if she is stained? I have commissioned her for My Highest Purposes. I have taken into consideration that she is stained and that her stains are unhidden before the eyes of heaven and the earth; that I will be the beauty that drapes Myself as a Mantle about her. But she must not focus on her stains to give up, but on me to raise her to the peak of greatness to which I have called her. As she rise, her stains are obvious to all, and My Mantle about her will be obvious to all too. For her glory is Mine, and I have given Mine to her. Rest – enter rest.’”

I am calmed, deeply so, as I write this. I can enter rest from my strivings, – beautified by the word of God. Shalom.
vipslit@yahoo.ca

John 15:3 “You are Already clean BECAUSE of the word I have spoken to you.
Revelations 19:11-16 “I saw heaven standing open and there before me was a white horse, whose Rider is called Faithful and True. With justice He judges and makes war. His eyes are like blazing fire, and on His Head are many crowns. He has a name written on Him that no one knows but He Himself. He is DRESSED IN A ROBE DIPPED IN BLOOD, and His Name is THE WORD OF GOD. The armies of heaven were following Him, riding in fine linen, white and clean. Coming from His Mouth is a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations. He will rule them with an iron sceptre. He treads the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God Almighty. On His Robe and on His Thigh He has this Name written:
KING OF kings and LORD of lords

Called To Be Me

I love Romans 12:1-2. It has been, along with Colossians 2:16-23, Isaiah 54 and Proverbs 3:3-8, among the key scriptures that God has used as an extension of His Rod and Staff in guiding me through the narrow way in the past while. God The Artist. He did not create us to be like others but to honour Him by living to allow a transformation that would make us each, uniquely like Him.

Perhaps others struggle with conforming, as I am. A visiting friend shared with me some of the things she had heard said about me and my walk with God, that you can imagine, were less than complimenting. In her view. But as she said them, I gave thanks, understanding what God had deliberately called me from, and that He had been Faithful in working me to be different in some aspects that though offensive to some, honored Him. It was a good visit. She shared with my daughter and I, her own journey and after praying with us left us with a quote purportedly articulated by a servant of God; she said to us

“Someone had to be me – and unfortunately or fortunately for me (and others), I was called to be me.”

That settled it, one day at a time. God has lent me His Breath and His Time for SPECIFIC purposes. Every time I buy into someone else’ assignment and ditch my own, even if I succeed in these and gain the applause of men, I am simply wasting time and breath. God’s Time and Breath. He will call me to account, as all good lenders do, and what I did that wasn’t what He sent me to do, will be burnt with fire. I understood from this, that a major part of Heaven’s resourcing for the good works that God has laid for us to do, is Time and Breath. Exactly the amount of time and breath I need to do His given assignment.

So, whatever He has called you to be, a writer, banker, doctor, accountant, pastor, parent, spouse, intercessor, prophet, encourager, be that, waitress, house help, with all the Excellence of Heaven. He will come calling for fruit.  It may look simple, even shabby to another whose assignment and calling is more pleasing to the senses, but remember this; only I am called to be me. And God will call me to account for it. Therefore, be un-offendable and diligent as you spend His Time and breath His Breath.
Shalom

Our Twins Came Pre-Term

Tears and Triumphs Through The Muhami’s Journey with their sons

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Sam: I am a 43 year old Auditor working for the National Treasury. Mercy, 38 years and I have been married since December 11, 2004. We have four children; Dennis who is 10, Cynthia, and then the twins Alex and Felix. We experienced no challenges in our first two pregnancies. I attended pre-natal clinics with Mercy and even went to the labour ward for the birth of our second child Cynthia. When Mercy fell pregnant a third time, we thought it would be as easy. At the 7 weeks clinic, we were told that it was one baby, but the sixth month scan revealed that she was carrying twin boys. It was then that we started attending Gynaecologist Dr. Kagema’s clinic. We saw him twice or thrice before Mercy went into premature labour at 7 months. He was the one who prepared us for the possibility that the babies would be born early, and administered an injection that was intended to strengthen the lungs of the baby. We were to go for another but Mercy went into labour.

Mercy: I have never smoked, drunk alcohol, I had no issues with blood pressure and my husband is very supportive and nonviolent. When I was young, I had asked God that when it was time to name my father, He would allow me to have twins so I could name him and my eldest brother at the same time. This was before I got married. I was there for ecstatic when a scan revealed that I would be having twin boys.  My father had died while we were still young, and my eldest brother, who is about 20 years older than I, had taken us through school. I never missed a day of school due to fees.

I started experiencing a pain on my right side, and the doctor said my small frame was being taxed by the twins within me. We had been to Dr. Kagema’s on June 22, 2013. He had told me that everything was progressing well with my pregnancy. So when I started having cramps the next day from around 10am, Sam and I were convinced it was not labour. We finally decided to go to hospital at 4pm. I had dilated 7cms already and had they delayed more, I would have had the twins naturally. I was in theatre at 10pm when I delivered them. Actually I opted for it since the babies were so tiny and I did not want to loose either of them through the birth process. They scored high during the birth, they cried well and Alex weighed 1650 grams while Felix weighed 1480 grams. They actually brought them to me soon after birth for a short while before I was wheeled to the ward and then to nursery. The next day, I was in a lot of pain from the operated area so I was not able to see them. Sam however came and told me they were well. I had no reason not to believe him. I was to find out later that Felix was admitted straight into the ICU. He reduced to less than 1000 grames and Alex to 1200grams. Neither of them were able to feed.

Sam: When I first visited them I was informed that the children were very sick. I was also advised not to share this information with my wife since she was still in extreme pain from the operation the previous day.

Mercy: The next day, however, I felt I needed to see them. I steeled myself against the pain, and walked the distance to the nursery. I was told that they were in the ICU as they were critically ill. They took me to see Felix first. I was horrified. He was tiny, and in respiratory distress, each breath lifted him off the bed. I fainted. I did not see Alex that day. The resuscitated me and took me to the ward. I wept and was not able to talk to my visitors. I didn’t think I would ever be able to look at my babies again. After some hours I gathered courage and went and saw Alex. He was helpless and in an incubator. I was advised to express milk, and I tried but could not since I was stressed up. I looked at the other mothers in there. They seemed to have their act together, and easily expressed, and fed their children.

Sam: They prescribed and administered Surfactant for the development of the lungs. It normally costs Kshs, 60,000 for a 10 ml bottle of which they only use 7ml. We asked the staff to keep the remainder for a parent who was not able to afford it for their child.  I would visit daily. The children were on I.V.s. Mercy is strong, and would diligently express milk for them as they were not able to suckle on their own. Preterm babies, cannot like other babies, suckle, breath and swallow simultaneously and risk chocking or even dying if they try. She would divide the expressed milk between the children according to the doctors recommendations. They started with 1 ml each through N.G. tubes.

Mercy: They would feed after every three hours. I had to go to the nursery despite the fact that my wound had not yet healed. To check if they had digested the milk we would stick a syringe into the N.G. tubes, and pull it back. If something was drawn from the child it would mean that they were not digesting well. Alex despite being the bigger of the two was admitted into ICU on his fourth day as he had lost weight due to his inability to digest food.

They need also to make smaller diapers for preterms. The smallest pampers almost covered their entire bodies. Huggies had a smaller one that fitted better but was still way too big.

Sam: The back and forth between the ward and the ICU every three hours was depressing for my strong wife. The doctors tested the babies’ blood constantly to see if infections had set in, in order to treat these.

IMG_3128.JPGMercy: KNH has about one nurse to 50 babies so we have to be involved. I would wake up and go clean my babies from that day. I forgot about my wound and have no idea to-date exactly when it healed. They had administered Surfactant to Felix and he was breathing more normally now. Since he was in ICU, the nurses would clean him but I still was the one to feed him. Alex on the other hand had not been able to digest food for four days, and was admitted into the ICU as well. After two weeks, a Professor recommended that he be taken to theatre the next day and be put on a central line. I was depressed. He was the bigger baby, and the one on whom I had hope and now he was scheduled for theatre.  I talked to another mother about this and she discouraged me saying that most babies died during the process of this procedure. I wept again. I made three calls to my brother, to my cousin and to my friend and didn’t say anything just cried and disconnected.  I then called my Aunt Nancy who is a nurse. She came to see me. She told me that God was able to do a miracle if I prayed. I asked God not to allow the operation but to heal Alex. I did not sleep that night but talked to God about Alex.

The next morning I determined to feed Alex which was not procedural before surgery. The nurses tried to stop me but the doctor finally allowed me to exercise my faith. I began with 2ml, then 5ml, and then 7ml. By the next morning he was taking and digesting all of 10mls. The doctor was amazed and in short, he did not go to theatre. He was fed and eventually put on 600gms. Putting on even 100gms for a pre-term baby is a miracle. I was also Kangarooing Alex, he was jaundiced and was also put under blue light.

Both my babies needed transfusions and my husband and brothers in law had donated blood for them. Bureaucracy made it sometimes complicated for them to be transfused. I remember one day just going mad and going to the nurses station when I discovered that they had not been. I made a scene and they ended up giving them the blood.

IMG_3041.JPGAfter a week Felix was discharged from ICU. One day I was feeding him in the nursery and the nurses came and asked for him. He was throwing his hands and feet. One nurse shouted something like ‘Apnea’. I did not know what that meant. I went back to the nursery after 3 hours and found so many doctors around him. One of them was telling the others that he hoped I would not walk in when I did. My baby was purple. I was shocked. I called my husband, my pastor and my cousin who is an elder. I would call, cry and disconnect. I run to the nurses room and hid under a bed. I cried bitterly calling out to God. He heard me. The now late Nurse Judy came for me. She simply said “Mercy, toka chini ya kitanda. Mtoto ameamka.” Felix was in ICU attached to a machine. His SPO2 – flow of oxygen was almost 100. This was a good sign. He was doing fine. My cousin had been at a Gospel outreach Pastor’s forum when I called. He interrupted his colleagues and they prayed for me without knowing what was the matter.

After this I could go the ICU and find the readings at 70, but as I stood there, they would rise steadily to 100. One mother noticed this and asked if I practised magic, I told her it was simply the power of prayer. I prayed a lot. I sang, and I cried.

One day my friend Grace’ baby who had been stronger than mine died. Not just hers, but three babies around Felix. I was not able to feed him that day. The other mothers were holding me and crying and calling me. Every three hours, a baby would die. They were taken to the Sluice Room. When we came in for feeding we knew whose it was by either checking into that room first or if a nurse called a mother aside to sit with them.

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I cried a lot during my time in hospital. I was known as ‘mama wa kulia, na kuomba na kuimba’. One time our couples’ fellowship – Precious Couples visited me. The women just came and cried with me. The nurses were shocked at this. The next day one of them pulled me aside and on confirming I was Christian, read to me from Philippians 4:6-7 “Do not be anxious for anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. And the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” My now late mother coincidentally visited me at this time, on the insistence of my brothers who were concerned that I could not stop crying. She was 78 years then, a mother of 10 children. She told me that Kikuyu customs did not allow for tears to fall on nursing breasts. I don’t think this is true but it worked – I never cried after this; well not as much anyway.  My brothers have never let me forget this.

After this, whenever I was with my babies, I would talk to them telling them that they would survive their beginnings. I would create time between the feeding schedules that lasted one hour for each child to do KMC. My husband was only able to support me in this when the babies came home for hygiene reasons.  I was vigilant about accessing my babies to what they needed to survive.

Before we were discharged, the doctors ensured that the twins were able to suckle. Finally August 9, 2013 came round. I was called by a doctor and told I could go home. I was ecstatic. I just wanted to be home and sleep on a mattress. We were sleeping in the Mothers Mess where we shared beds or mattress on the floor by now. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed.  I could hardly wait for my husband, my sister Purity and my friend Nancy to get there.

Sam: I paid for most of the general drugs and test while NHIF paid about Kshs 500,000/ to cover their time in hospital. We are not rich but have never lacked for anything. God provides. For instance they were able to use Huggies throughout.

We had chosen Kenyatta National Hospital for the delivery because we had faith in the doctors there, and that the hospital was more than adequately equipped for any eventuality. It proved a good choice but I also think we also played a role; parents must follow the instructions of medical personnel. Upon their discharge for instance, the nurses demanded total hygiene on and around the children. Their room had to be disinfected and the nursing cups washed and handled only by my wife and myself. They were to have no visitors initially as their immunity was low. This was really hard to effect.

Mercy: I would plead with Sam sometimes to allow friends and relatives to see the children. Some came from really far away to see them but he was firm; especially when Felix got an infection two weeks later, and we had to be readmitted for a week. Some people took real offence.

When Felix got sick two weeks later and we had to go back, I was devastated. I refused to pack but somehow when we got to hospital, our things were all packed. He was put in the isolation room, diagnosed with mild pneumonia. Shortly afterwards another baby was brought in diagnosed with menegitis. I cried then but was told the kind of menegitis this baby had was not infectious. I was concerned also about Alex. How would he feed without me? Sam and the nurses assured me that Sam would be able to handle Alex. Still they would fight over the milk I expressed.

Sam: When one twin gets sick at this stage both are admitted along with their mother, so it gets really costly. The sick that is not sick gets exposed to infections and may end up unwell too. To avoid this, I requested to keep Alex with me, and signed him out into my custody. This meant I had to be at KNH thrice daily to get breast milk for him; at 6am, lunch time and evening. The milk needed to be warm. One time, I was flagged down by a police man for over-speeding at night. Alex had been crying and I had his milk. I told the police man to take my car and allow me to get food to my two month old son whose mother was in hospital. The policeman had compassion on me and released me. Sometimes the nurses in hospital wanted to keep the expressed milk for Felix, as he was their priority. We would literally tug over this.  Alex on the other hand would through fits throughout the night.

Mercy: Felix was discharged a week later, and thankfully the twins have never been admitted since.

Sam: We were grateful for the care of Drs. Miriam Karanja, Kihara, and Opondo of KNH, but met and have been seeing Dr Ngugi Maina at Kasarani’s Josma Medical Center. Since we were afraid of infections and hardly took the twins out in the sun, Felix got rickets at 7 months. Thankfully these were treated. He had to go through physiotherapy  and at some point had straps on his legs. He just begun walking on May 20, this year at the age of 3. Alex had started at 14 months and experienced normal milestones. We learnt from our doctors to never measure our children against the achievements of another child, not even each other.

Mercy: Felix also spoke later, and is now learning to form sentences.

Sam: The twins are both poor feeders. Mercy, who is a qualified accountant, has stayed indoors voluntarily since 2013. We try to feed them as many times as possible. They have even been on appetizers from time to time. One would wake up at night and then wake the others. We started taking shifts sleeping so we could face the next day.

IMG_3045.JPGThey are fraternal twins. They love being together but fight a lot too. Alex who is older is domineering and manipulative. He is also friendly and remembers faces and names of those he meets. Felix is a worshipper. He loves dance and music. He persistent, determined, focused and strong willed. He is a fighter. Alex fluctuates in his weight whereas Felix keeps the weight he has gained.

We keep two house girls; remember the two older ones are still babies themselves. We had our househelp Cugu who has been with us for 9 years, but needed a new one so we could handle especially the mornings. Initially for the first two months we did not sleep. Our other children understood why we gave most attention to the twins. Mercy’s elder sister Purity was really supportive and lived with us for 9 months.

Mercy: It was hard for Robert and Cynthia initially with me being away for two months in hospital with the babies, and their father trying to cope between home, office and hospital. He would bring them to the hospital to see me from time to time.

Sam: I have a very understanding boss who is also a parent. Understanding my challenges, he would allow me to work on flex time. I needed to be available for all hospital visits and emergencies.

Mercy: Back at home a week later, we were now even more paranoid about infections.  We would not take them out of the house. Felix developed Rickets. We found a good nutritionist and were given some powder from the UN called Prampinot I think, and another medicine.

Until they were three years, my life has been a whirlwind. I had physiotherapy with Felix and would cry when they massaged him. He finally began walking at the age of three and is now stringing words together to form a sentence. I can now think about engaging in income generation outside the house.

Sam: We have actually been able to get away twice on our own without the children. For three days each time. It is important for me that my wife is happy and rested.

Mercy: Sam has supported me throughout this journey. We are grateful to God, to the staff at KNH, to our siblings , our pastors, and the very many visitors who came and who sometimes did not get to see me. I was touched by the plight of many of the mothers of preterms. Some were married but were never visited by their husbands. Some of their husbands would encourage them to abandon their babies there – hence the presence of so many KNH babies. Some mothers loose all their babies, like one who remains childless as all her three babies have been preterm. One time a mother stole her own child out of ICU presumably to go throw it away.

On the children’s first birthday we went back to celebrate with the mothers then at the nursery. We had noticed in our time there that they had a shortage of heaters so we gifted them with a few, and brought cake for the nurses. It really encouraged the mothers there to see Alex and Felix. I remembered while there I had wished that I could have a mother come back and just say “Mimi nilikua hapa and these are my babies”.

Pre-term children can survive and thrive. I know one who is now studying at JKUAT, and one who was born in KNH at 900grams and is now a doctor there. Once they overcome, they perform well and are like other children. As a parent, the words you say over your children stick to them. Be careful therefore. Never give up on them – even when the doctors do.

Sam: In the last three years, we have lost four people who stood with us during this ordeal. My father, my eldest sister who even lived with us for a while, My mother and my mum- in law. Its been difficult but we know to be strong. My late mother in law told us at the very beginning that she knew the boys would be well enough to visit her fun and she could see them in her mind’s eye running around. This prophesy has come to pass, many times.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

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From Traditional Birth Attendant to Birth Companion – Jane Mukuyi’s Story

Jane Mukuyi4.JPG“My Grandmother was a ‘Mkunga wa Nyumbani’ in Chepkaka where I grew up,” begins the elegant 66 year old mother of four. “Of my many siblings I was closest to her. From the time I was 12 years old, I would assist her perform her vocation. She would send me for things while I watched her deliver women of their children. When I got married at the age of 21, and moved to a nearby location, I too, started practicing. My grandmother’s reputation had preceded me and they assumed rightly that I was likewise gifted and inclined.”

Jane was a nursery school teacher. She, however, gladly volunteered her services helping women through pregnancy and the delivery of their children. “When a woman, in the places where my husband and I lived, suspected that she was pregnant, she would seek me out for some sort of clinic. I would wake up at around 6am to find them waiting outside my house, most of them not having even washed their faces. They wanted me to touch their bellies and let them know the progress of their babies. They would come for me to massage them with oil, or just because they had woken up from an uncomfortable night. Many came in as many times as thrice a week during their pregnancies. In the latter parts, I would massage them to ensure the baby was presenting well. I have since learnt that this could mess things up for the baby and the mother.” She says sadly.

“When a woman went into labour, depending on our agreement and her condition, I would either go to her house or she would come to mine. In mine they would deliver in the kitchen. In theirs, it depended how many rooms they had. The idea was that men could not be part of the process. If there was only one house, they would make themselves scarce.” She remembers.

“If one of my women was due, I would prepare a herbal concoction to rub her down with during labour. The woman would get down her knees, legs apart. She was not supposed to have had a bath before labour. I would guide her to push down the baby. Twice there were complications that led to the babies coming out leg first, but thankfully I successfully managed all such cases without a single fatality. I never delivered a child that was in breach. In a normal situation, I would wait for the head of the baby to present, then using my thumb nail, cut her down there to allow the baby to come out. Once the baby was out, we would use one of the mother’s garments, normally a dirty one, to cover it. We would cut the cord using the bark of a sugar-cane. The woman had to stay indoors for three days. She would not bath. She would use an item of clothing that she had worn to get to the Mkunga’s house to catch her flow. It was all very dirty and unhygienic, and yet I knew no other way. Some of the children I helped birth are now married or even in university. I know of five that died before the age of three years.”

Nine years ago, Jane was one of the TBAs that the Ministry of Health reached out to, in response to a WHO policy, to train in emergency child birth and transform into Birth Companions. Until then, she had never met or known of any other TBA except her grandmother. “That is when I realised that we were conveyors of ill health and not of life as I had previously thought.”

abraham-wanyonyi1Behavior Change Communications Coordinator Abraham Wanyonyi of Save the Children elaborates on this. “More than 50% of unskilled deliveries are conducted by TBAs. They have gravely impacted on the Ministry of Health and their partners’, GlaxoSmithKline and Save the Children – Kenya’s attempts to get women to deliver in hospitals under sanitized conditions. They can therefore not be ignored in our efforts. The National  Health Policy 2007 – 2012 provides that they stop providing deliveries and accompany expectant mothers to health facilities. This was just a statement, and there was nothing to support it in terms of making this a reality.” This is where the partners came in. They use the training curriculum adapted from AMREF’s Linda Afya Mama Na Mtoto to reorient them on their roles, give them a small reimbursement towards transport, and have monthly meetings with them.” He says.

“For many of them this is a calling. I remember that when HIV became widespread many TBAs in Western and Nyanza provinces were wiped out by it. You can imagine the hygiene issues, the infections, I mean many health facilities are still struggling with hygiene control. These challenges are more than doubled in a poor old woman’s house.” Abraham laments.

Jane is now an unrelenting firebrand with regard to getting women to attend clinic and deliver in health centers. From being the one sought out to offer clinics, she now accompanies those who do, and seeks out those who are resistant sometimes to the point of having interventions that involve the husband or the chief to get the women to go. “They are tough but I am tougher. I go with them for their initial clinic, then for the fourth of the five mandatory times, and then for delivery. I will ride with the woman on the bodaboda ambulance, and will only deliver if there is a roadside emergency. Otherwise, I go with her to the health center, and stand by her taking care of her needs throughout labour. I act as the link between her and the health facility staff on how far she has gone, and also alert them if I sense there is trouble. I will also accompany her back for post-natal clinic.”

Nurse Violet Nyongesa.JPG58 year old Nurse Violet Nyongesa, of the Bunyala Sub-County Hospital dons the Birth Companion Apron in solidarity with Jane for this interview. She describes the Birth Companion’s role throughout the maternity journey as crucial but thankless in terms of remuneration. “With all they do, we are not even able to offer them a cup of tea. They have really helped raise the number of women giving birth in health centers from 30 to about 100 in a month. We are normally understaffed, with about three nurses on duty at any on given time. When they come in with the mothers in labour, they stay with them. They get them water to shower, clean them after delivery and give them clean linen. They are also usually much better able to communicate with the women than we are. They are really part of the team.” She speaks softly. “I know it is better for a woman to deliver at a health center, despite the challenges we face, because of the sterile environment and because we are able to deal faster with any challenges during the process. The baby is also kept warm. When a child does not cry at birth, we are able to resuscitate them. It is also easier to register a child who has been born in a health center as opposed to at home.”

Jane now makes a living from her farm and also receives support from her four grown children of whom she is very proud. “The training that the partners have given us have earned us renewed respect within the community. The uniforms they have provided makes us stand out in a good way. We are also involved in Table Banking. I love that I am now helping give life the healthy way.” Concludes a smiling Jane.

vipslit@yahoo.ca

Why Women Preferred Being Delivered by Traditional Birth Attendants, By Abraham Wanyonyi, Behavior Change Communications Coordinator and Communications Point Person in Save the Children Kenya, Bungoma Office

  • Facilities often understaffed and have little attention during labour whereas with a TBA it’s just the woman. She receives a lot of tender loving care, the backrubs and encouragement.
  • The language often used by the TBA is gentle as compared to that used by the overworked, little appreciated Health worker.
  • Men who find health facilities crowded have access to their wives during labour to support them.
  • Socialisation, everyone in your family has been delivered by a traditional birth attendants, its difficult for women to start a new trend especially at her in-laws.
  • The TBAs are part of the community. With Devolution in particular people may prefer to be attended to by someone from their own communities than a well-trained ‘outsider.’
  • Distance to the health centers make it preferable for women to walk into the TBAs house during labour.
  • People feel safer with older, and more experienced women.
  • Perceived high cost of delivery even in public hospitals whereas TBAs are compensated with what you have. A leso, a chicken etc.

Story and photos by NaMeD Afrika Studios, Kenya

First Published on The Standard Newspaper’s Wednesday Life Pullout, September 28, 2016

http://www.standardmedia.co.ke/lifestyle/article/2000217596/no-more-giving-birth-at-home-for-women-in-kenya

 

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