Tears of Tehankounibe

August 2

On Thursday we did a clinic at the village of Balambar. We had a good day and saw over 100 kids. I was just starting to pack up my things when a woman came and tapped me on the shoulder. She motioned for me to follow her outside. We walked outside of the church to a tree where a few mothers and their children were sitting in the shade. She turned and pointed in a different direction towards a field of cotton. In the dirt on the edge of the field sat a little boy who was crying. As I approached him I noticed the flies covering his head and other parts of his body. The smell was horrible. I knelt down to examine the child and discovered over half of his head was covered in puss from an infection and some of it had caked on. The same infection was on his lower back and certain areas on his legs and feet. I picked up the precious little boy and walked to the women under the tree. I asked, “who is this boy’s mother?” They laughed nervously back at me. I had forgotten about the language barrier so I switched to french and asked three more times. No one would answer me. They just shook their heads and said something like “elle partie,” she has gone. A translator from our team came over to help and found out that his mother had abandoned him and left for the city. His father was at home but does not care for him.

I asked the woman who had shown me the child if she would please accompany him so that he could go through the clinic since we require an adult to be present. She agreed and we returned to the one room church building that was serving as our screening for children, malnutrition treatment, malaria testing and treatment, and dental office with each area separted by wooden benches. I set the boy down on a bench and went to find Dr. Bev to ask how to go about helping this boy. He sat there and cried and cried. He laid his head down on the bench because sitting up was too much of an effort for him.

Dr. Bev instructed Kayla and I on how to clean up the infection and we were told to give him both a malaria and HIV test. We began gathering what we needed. I created an intake sheet for the boy because we were all out of the registration cards because we were not planning on seeing more kids. The uncle of the child appeared at this time and claimed that he was taking care of the boy. I was happy to see at least a relative but I had to calm my anger at the fact that letting a child become as sick as this little boy could be considered “taking care”. The uncle gave us some information for the registration card.  The beautiful little boy is named Tehankounibe. I give his name in hopes that you will remember to pray for him. We were shocked to discover Tehankounibe is 6 yrs old. The entire time I had been speaking to him as if he were a 3yr old because his body was so small and malnourished he looked too young to be over 3. But when we looked at his teeth they revealed he was indeed 6. I asked my translator to prep the medicine for the severe malnutrition treatment.

Then I sat down and began the tedious task of picking off all of the scabbed over and harderned drainage from his infection that covered over half his head. For a half hour I worked at it one small piece of a time. The pastor from the Williston team and my translator held the lights for me as it was late afternoon and the sun was just beginning to retire. Kayla began to bathe the child from head to foot in a disinfecting solution. We had to take of his clothes to clean him up and I noticed his shirt was covered in flies lying on the floor. We would not be putting that shirt back on him. The sponge bath Kayla gave Tehankounibe caused his open sores to sting and several of the spots on his head began to bleed and his scalp appeared raw as I continued to clean the sores.

Tehankounibe cried. He was hurting in so many ways. Not once did his uncle come over to comfort him or even say a word of encouragement. There was no one there for this child. As I cleaned I would stop and tell him “gafarda”, I’m sorry, and comfort him as much as I could.

As tears streamed down Tehankounibe he would look back at me with a face I will never forget and cry out, “Mama” over and over and over and over again.  But his mother was not there. She left him.

I looked back at him and willed myself not to cry. Several times I stopped cleaning his head because I couldn’t see from the tears filling my eyes.

A short time later Dr. Bev joined us and finished bandaging Tehankounibe up. She cut a hole in a large medical towel and made him something like a shirt/robe to wear because the child had nothing else. We got the test results back. Malaria was positive but I praised the Lord he was negative for HIV. I adminstered med after med until we had given him everything we could. Then Dr. Bev gave him a different form of medicince he needed just as much. She picked him up and held that little boy. He clung to her still crying for “mama” but calmed down quickly and finally found some peace in his shattered world.

I longed to hold Tehankounibe too. I longed to do anything to take away his pain. If it were a possibility I would not think twice about bringing him home with me.

When we were finished and had to return home we handed Tehankounibe to the woman who had showed him to me. I thanked her so much for bringing me to him and told her I would be praying for him. He was sleeping by the time they walked out the door. I felt like crying out for her to bring him back as they left. It was so hard to let him go.

Tehankounibe majorly touched the heart of pastor Paul who was holding the light for us and Dr. Bev as well. Before we left we made sure that the pastor of Balambar would take care of him and our team provided him with food to give to Tehankounibe so at least he will not be hungry.  I can’t speak for them but I’m sure they felt the same as I did in wishing we could have done more.

Meeting Tehankounibe was the most moving and impactful experience I had my entire time in Africa. After seeing so much during my previous 10 weeks I thought I had figured out how I felt about life here. But God used an encounter on my last day on the continent to shake me up so much that I feel like I am back at square one. No matter how much I try to process Tehankounibe’s situation it will never make sense to me. I will never be able to understand why his mother left and why someone would not love such a beautiful precious child.

Tehankounibe’s face has kept me up at night and the sound of his cry seems to fill the room while I try to sleep. I cannot explain it but my life is different after meeting him. Tehankounibe and other encounters in Africa have changed me. Everything I see and hear now first goes through a filter I didn’t have before coming here. I don’t see anything the same anymore. I am no longer innocent of spiritual and physical poverty and it as real as the chair I’m sitting on. I have a new knowledge that requires taking action. I will spend the rest of my life seeking God and discovering what my role is in alleviating some of the brokeness. Everything changes now. The faces of the people I met in Africa, like 5 yr old HIV positive Michael, will motivate everything I do from this point on. Sick kids like Tehankounibe will be my drive in medical school. They will be a part of every decision I make. I will never forget.