If wrinkles must be written upon our brows, let them not be written upon the heart. The spirit should not grow old.

Ok, well….how to tell about the Old Peoples Home. This is another of those moments when you almost had to be there. We left Backpackers at 8:30 and arrived shortly there after at an enclosed and gated compound with Benny our driver of the day. Brave was off doing home visits this day. As we pulled through the gates, the place didn’t look to bad, with a fairly clean and well looked after yard, but not what would be considered a ‘Home’. There were a few single dwellings along with rows of open cement shelters; these, it was explained, were originally to be used for day shelters, from heat and rain, but as need grew, they have become the ‘rooms’ for many residents. Over the last year, a few had even had ‘doors’ attached. Antonia and some of the others from the medical group had been telling me, the evening before, about being at the compound the week before and visiting with old folks in their ‘rooms’, they talked of the smells caused by the folks keeping meat and other perishables under their mattresses, with no where else to store them. It was hard to imagine at the time, but upon seeing these ‘rooms’ and the space provided within,



'rooms' sheltering the old folks

 

I could only feel saddened by the lack of facilities offered to these poor people, although they seem content to have some sort of roof over their heads and the small amount of food provided. I can’t remember the exact number of residents who live at Maramba, but would hazard a guess at perhaps 30 or so, and would think that the original number meant to be housed was probably about a dozen or less. So…we proceeded to a covered, area, which seemed to be used as a serving/eating/meeting area, where we arranged a few chairs and awaited the arrival of any interested participants to the planned nutritional talk. It also seemed that breakfast had not been served, so the first few arrivals were more interested in actually eating, than hearing about what they should be eating. Upon seeing what they were served for breakfast, I knew my feeling from the day before about the nutritional information we were suppose to speak about, was right. They were handed a small loaf of white bread and a cup of some sort of tea/coffee, and hre we were, to tell them to eat 3 good meals a day, what a farce!



whats left of the tea/coffee served for breakfast





Patrick

Patrick was one of the first to arrive and I had heard a few stories about him…he smokes (although to me what he was at that time smoking, looked like it was just rolled up newspaper) and drinks alcohol, so is constantly being chastised. He let it be known he was late for breakfast as no one had brought him a new wife yet, so he had no one to get him out of bed on time; what a character.

Numerous residents started to strangle in and just as the ‘talk’ was about to get under way, with Benny ready to translate for us, a team of doctors and nurses arrived. It seemed they were there to check on all the residents and our schedule was not at all well planned. Benny decided that there was no point in our hanging about and so we were ushered out of the compound and across the street to spend the morning helping at the Maramba Clinic instead. Ah, Africa, be prepared for things to change in an instant!

I will mention that we made another visit to the Home the following week, where I was better prepared for the day’s demonstration of oral health and was pleased to pass out a number of the toothbrushes that I had brought with me, which had been donated by the Cool Aid Society. While we were doing this demonstration, Brave was attending to a gentleman in one of the ‘rooms’, who had been reported to be feeling ill. It turned out his ‘lower region’ was infested with lice and Brave spent the morning delousing him. It was also noted that the ‘room' was a ‘shared accommodation’, and we soon spotted the roommate sitting nearby, scratching furiously. Brave had to have a serious talk with the few volunteer ladies that are looking after the old folks, about helping them to achieve better hygiene. It was a very sad and hard way for these unfortunate dears to be living, but, all I met, seemed in fair health and I suppose, with no family to look after them and no where else to go, they are content.

I’m also sure, it is always a bright spot in their days to have the voluteers come and entertain them, in what ever silly ways we thought would be beneficial; they enjoy the company and take all else with a grain of salt, I would think.

Gentleman making rope from Maize bags. He titirelessly picks apart the bags then braids the scraps.

his 'room'

thanks for the toothbrush!