Nuru na Uhai..These two words are the motto of my Alma Matter Moi Girls School Nairobi. In Swahili they translate to Light and Life. If you went to high school in Kenya you must be familiar with the nickname your school had. Chalks, Bush, Patch, Changes, Pango, Stato , Kotet, Boma the list is endless - each with a story behind the name.Ours was Kabbz, Quabbz, Cabbz - whichever way you spelt it the joke was that they served cabbages daily and as a "rubble" yup more Kenyan high school lingo - a Form one is basically the dust / rubble on the ground - you had that to look forward to in the DH. Cabbages were the one thing I dreaded the most - I loathed cabbages. To me I found cabbages tasted like paper dipped in water. But four years after my stay at Moi Girls they became a delicacy - I guess the "chefs" at our school had perfected the art after cooking them over and over again.
They say you form lasting friendships in college. I think high school is where the meat and potatoes of friendships is. Specifically in form one. Each and every person who walked through the green gates of Kabbz slept in a communal dorm known as "Kabarnet." Oh did I mention we were not the only girls of the then president Moi. He had his girls in Isinya, he had Moi Girls Eldoret we were his "Nairobi girls" It was only fitting that one of the dorms was named after his hometown Kabarnet which we called Kaba.
On September 2nd Kaba was set on fire. 9 form ones lost their lives and 50 more were injured. The news had so much grief as parents and friends of the deceased grappled with the loss of their loved ones. The parents of some of the students are still trying to locate their loved ones through DNA testing.
There are many discussions making the rounds regarding the tragedy. How long the fire department got to arrive, how the arsonist had clearly opposition defiance that went unchecked, one conversation even politicized the whole thing.
I think the most important thing  at the moment is just be present. Be present for the 9 families that are grieving, be present for the 51 girls who were injured. Be present for the rest of the girls in the school as a whole. Sit with them in their grief as long as they need. PTSD is real, the trauma of reliving a painful experience is just that - painful. And so after the dust settles, the cameras leave Moi Girls and move on to a new story, that is when the girls will need to be lifted up the most.Those girls in the other hostels who came to the rescue, the girls who managed to escape will need strength to get through the tough days because they will come

Ashes to Ashes. Dust to dust

Today I had the most surreal experience. One of my patients recently lost her father whose wishes were to be cremated. No one in the family wanted to keep his ashes - go figure - so guess where the urn lands - yep on the dresser of my patient. She asked me casually - do you want to see the urn? I hear my heart race - yes I gulp. So she proceeds to bring out the urn. I clutch the side of the dresser. I am actually staring at what was once a living breathing person now reduced to ashes - no pun. I lift the urn - heavy as lead.She asks casually again - do you want to see inside? My eyes widen - yes. She opens it as though she is opening a jar of candy.  I wait to see white smoke come out and the skies open above. Instead all that is inside is a clear bag filled with white powder. At this point I am like this is nowhere near any part of my job description - what the heck am I doing here? I still have the gloves from earlier. I touch and feel the ashes of a man I will never know. At this point my patient is busy yapping away,  "Yeah they say this is all bone that is why it is white."  "Can you believe this is daddy?" "They were going to charge me $800 for a coffin oh heck no." I can barely hear a word she is saying. In my head so many thoughts are running through my head - did he live a full life? what is a full life anyway? Did he get to dance in the rain? Did he know he was loved? Did he die in pain? Did he know Jesus? Was he an atheist? The moment passes. She puts away the urn. I tell her that was so insightful and intense. To think that yani even after all the plastic surgery, the weight loss programs it all boils down to ashes. It was an eye opener and reminder of a blog I had once posted on. In life its not the number of years that define your life but the dash in between. So run your race, do not be afraid to dance in the rain, blaze your own trail. Be your biggest competition. Set your own bars and break your own glass ceilings. Love passionately. Heck skydive if you must. For real today I came face to face with the term YOLO. Its even Biblical,
Eccl 12:7 : and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it.
Okay over and out. .

What is this madness?

As always I remember the log in info to this blog when I need to rant and rave!!Again healthcare delivery has made me mad, furious so furious...Saturday 5:30am. I have just fed the baby his early morning milk and as I put him to bed I idly scroll through my Instagram and see "Urgent appeal. My friend Druscilla is in the ICU and she needs platelets after an emergency C-section. That name sends off alarm bells - there are not too many Druscillas I have met in this lifetime.Can it be her - it has to be her - Mombasa. mother of one.Aga Khan  Hospital. yes it is her. I immediately send my sister a message. Have you heard? I start thinking oh em gee who do I know in Mombasa who can donate blood and better yet is O+ . Joan my good friend lived in Mombasa and is currently in Kenya visiting. I update her. She is in shock. She will ask her old contacts who are in the Aga Khan area to try donate. Tuesday 7am - as I refresh my Instagram feed - "Rest with the angels Dru." I drop my shoulders in defeat. A beautiful life snatched in its bloom. A husband left a widower with a newborn and a son. Its 2017 - the fact that a woman can die of childbirth "complications" makes me mad enough to have to put my thoughts on paper at 1:53am. To think that if you have a loved one who needs blood that in 2017 we are making appeals to somebody, anybody to "go donate" as they fight for their life. Like what is this? Like how is it that Kenya is competing at a world standard in technology, real estate, heck we paved the way for mobile banking worldwide through mpesa and yet as far as healthcare a woman can die of childbirth complications. I was reading an article and they did not even have the terms to articulate what happened - all they could say was there were complications in her limbs after she had the baby. What does that even mean? I just dont know where the turning point will be as far as healthcare delivery systems. I guess maybe there are bigger fish to fry. My sister says I have become "detached" from the realities of Kenya. Maybe thats what it is. Maybe I have no idea what is actually going on on the ground. Or maybe everyone is so much on the grind that aint nobody got time to be sick. I think there needs to be a healthcare revolution - I dont know the hows I dont know the whos I dont know the whens but I do know it needs to happen and it needs to happen soon.