Tono ai ko du Cam

The ETC in Makeni of Bombali District is full with 31 new Ebola patients; they came from a village just right outside Makeni. It seemed that one Ebola-infected person from Aberdeen, a fishing community in Freetown where some of the inhabitants are being quarantined, escaped and traveled from there by mini-van to Makeni, infecting a number of people on the way.  In Sierra Leone, the public travels in packed minivans where it is virtually impossible to avoid body contact.  Once Charles and I traveled from Gbinty to Port Loko in such a jam-packed van, a car-sick baby sitting at the back of us threw up on Charles’ back! Despite the best effort of the Ebola check-points where passengers’ temperature is taken, it only takes one symptomatic Ebola patient to spread the infection. 

This person went back to his village of 500 to seek the help of a traditional faith healer but died 24 hours later.  The family brought in the traditional healer to treat him which included touching and washing him.  Within a week the man’s extended family, father, mother, uncle, brother and the traditional faith healer ended up in the Makeni ETC.  The man’s father and the faith healer died with 2 days. Makeni had only 5 patients but on that day they registered about 50 patients with 31 confirmed cases.  Today Makeni ETC apparently has seven deaths.  The army had placed the village on a lock-down.  The flare-up came right on the heel of a report of 2 new cases in Sierra Leone. The powers that be are against transferring some patients to Lunsar ETC as we remain quiet, preferring to keep their own patients to the Bombali District.  One of our doctors is sent there to help instead.

The Cotton Tree

Tono ai ko du Cam (Today I am going to Freetown) on my day-off.  I hitched a ride to Freetown in the mid-morning.  Freetown was hot and crowded.  We drove along Lumley Beach with its inviting ocean water by Aberdeen where a section of its community by the ocean has been cordoned off by armed guards as the inhabitants there are under quarantine after a few new cases of Ebola cropped up two weeks ago.

I was in Freetown four years ago with my son Charles and recognized some of the landmarks.  Legend has it that the Cotton Tree in the center of town was the tree where the free African American slaves after landing and walking up to the tree in 1792 gave thanks.  Not too far from here they built the St. John’s Maroon Church using the beams from the slave ship as the beams for the ceiling in 1808. 

African Masks

Carvings

In front of the Big Market were hundreds of men and some women spreading their prayer rugs and saying their prayer.  This was Friday.  The market sells baskets, dolls, trinkets, hand bags, animal skins, African masks, some quite menacing looking, carvings and fabric.  The two-story market appeared dusty and dimly lit.  Some of the artifacts for sale seemed to be gathering dust.  I saw no customers except myself walking through it.  Outside were shops and traveling sale-persons selling their wares which they held in their hands, draped over their shoulders or hoisted over their heads.

The Old Wharf Steps or the so called “Portuguese Steps” had been washed away and destroyed about two years ago.  We walked down a very narrow set of broken stone stairs flanked by stone walls and dilapidated sheds with partially clad children playing on them.  The driver carried my backpack telling me that there were many “bad people” here and I had to be careful with my belongings.  At the end of the winding stairs we walked through someone’s kitchen and then to our left was a dark passageway and right when the steps abruptly ended was the Atlantic Ocean.  Sea breezes blew and the sheds were surprisingly cool in the heat of the afternoon.

The Slum

We passed through the slums with tinned sheds which stretch from the road to the ocean.  At another area of the slum, massive garbage dumps were smoldering with smoke and canals were choking with garbage where pigs rummaged for food.  It was a blessing that Ebola did not sweep through this crowded place.  Since the last time I was here, the streets are less congested and there are fewer vendors spreading their wares onto the roads.  The roads in Freetown are free of potholes, smooth and flawless.

At dinner, we learned that Yaema died in the afternoon.  Doris is still holding her own.