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Sonia Main watched the human line
intensely.
It often included women and children.
Even early in the day sweat coated them with a glossy sheen. No one bothered to
swat the persistent flies away - silence their only resolution. The ragged tent
was not adequate, and a lengthy line trailed listlessly outside the tent.
It was the last day at this camp.
Tomorrow they would continue to another line much bigger than this one, the
war-torn country in desperate need of help.
In partnership with David Sulliman, her
interpreter, they examined the patients. He was of average build, his constant
smile exhibited pearly whites against the darker skin. Based in South Sudan for
two years, they had developed a good working relationship. He genuinely cared about
his fellow countrymen.
"David, she needs to see the
doctor." Sonia pulled an older woman from the line-up. Her concealed face
was feverish at the touch.
"As-Salam
Alaykum, awewe," he greeted the woman and showed her where to go. With
slow steps she met Alice inside the tent.
"It will be another long day,"
Sonia said.
"Yes, it will," came the
answer.
Armed with the vaccine she followed him, the
clipboard present while he spoke to each person. Scanning the crowd, she
shifted her attention to the landscape. The deserted area gave no hope of rain.
Each breath laboured, the patients a mirrored image of the countryside, as
barren as the parched earth.
"They reported another case of
diarrhoea." David broke the silence during a break.
"Head Office promised to look at the
quality of water." Sonia redirected her attention back to her work. "They
sure can send more tents. Food and medicine are much-needed."
"The critical needs are dire,"
David said.
"And personnel. We need more
help," Sonia said.
"You know they struggle with trained
personnel." Medical personnel were difficult to find. The hours, heat and
minimal luxuries held no appeal for many.
"The war doesn't help," she
stated.
A sudden outcry interrupted them and both
scanned the people. A woman wailed as she gripped her abdomen. The next moment she
fell. Wisps of dust swirled upwards before they spread over her. Impassive
bodies stood aside.
"I got this." David motioned
and went closer. Sonia administered the child's drops while monitoring David.
By the time she reached them, the woman was comatose. Her black skin strained
over a thin frame; dull eyes stared upwards.
"She is unresponsive," David said
with trepidation as Sonia knelt next to them.
"Stretcher!" Sonia called when
she detected a faint pulse. The heartbeat was cumbersome.
"What do you think?" On closer
examination, she replied: "She is losing the baby," and stood aside
as the two soldiers approached.
"Be careful with her." In her
delirious state the woman slumped around on the stretcher and Sonia calmed her
with a warm touch on the arm and reached the tent with no incident.
"Here." Sonia directed them
towards a bed in the corner. People pushed against them before they stepped
aside. With only cardboard on the worn springs, she pulled a sheet from an
empty gurney.
"Lay her down." The acrid stink
of rotting flesh and sickness made breathing difficult.
"Doctor … "
"What's wrong?"
Soft weepy sounds immersed from the
patient's lips.
"The baby will not make it,"
the doctor whispered. A lonely tear trickled down the woman's frightened face.
"Doctor Wek will help you,"
Sonia said with a calmed tone. Her own heart rate already galloping.
"I struggle to find her pulse,
Doctor," Sonia informed him.
The woman cried. A sudden spasm pushed
blood-water from her legs. Sonia glanced at Doctor Wek knowingly, her own heart
in pain.
The doctor's face was a blank canvas as
he explained to the woman what had happened. More water stained the white sheet
and with it came the foetus. In sync with her baby, the woman's last breath
slipped from her parted lips.
Oh, Lord, no! Not again. Please!
Blocking her line of thought, Sonia
turned back with a sheet. Dr Wek stood aside as she swathed her. Afterwards she
notarised the death.
Another death in a senseless war no one
cared about.
"Let's go people. We must be at home
before dark," David called. Sonia closed the van's backdoor. David hitched
the trailer as she took her seat, the sliding door the last act of the day.
Children ran alongside them, their energy
appreciated as they waved at them. Amidst the poverty they still beamed with
joy.
Behind them the sombre landscape
displayed tints of orange and deep yellows from the last sun rays. It softened
the harshness and tedious state.
As they sped away, a boy waved at them in
his run. Up ahead his donkey's gait a two-step as the cans jiggled from side to
side.
Each trip to the refugee camps met her
with humbleness, the children's toothy grins a personal highlight. What she
valued most was their carefree attitude. They cherished life in every moment.
With only the bare minimum, they seemed unworried about the future.
For the medical staff it was crucial to venture
out to lift the tremendous burden. The influx of exiles gave them no rest while
they suffered. She could leave, but the South Sudanese people had no choice. To
help them, remained the closest she could come to excellence.
At the hospital they filed out - a tired
but satisfied group. Sonia unpacked the van like a robot.
"We will help you."
"Thanks, Alice."
"They shot a doctor today,"
David informed them when he returned.
"Where?" The weight of their
predicament oppressive.
"Khartoum - trapped with protesters
inside a house in Buri. They shot him without reason," David said.
"I don't understand this wave of murders.
We are here to help them," Sonia said.
"These people have no consciousness,"
Alice replied.
"We have to be watchful," David
agreed.
Reluctant and uneasy Sonia removed the
bags with filthy linen. "Take this and I will take those bags
inside."
"Thanks, Alice." Sonia placed
the clean linen inside the marked crate and closed the lid.
"Good night, Sonia."
"Goodnight, Alice. See you tomorrow."
In the compact kitchen Sonia drank a
supplement she always had at hand, showered and went straight to bed. Lathered
with enough Tabard, she added a flimsy sheet as a shield against unwanted night
crawlers.
It was well after eleven when she flicked
off the light. A thick blanket of darkness wrapped around her. A miserable
sense which devoured you if you were not careful. Restless she stared out the
small window, her thoughts far away. The moment she fell asleep, the woman's
face intertwined with her own. It haunted her till she woke. Drenched in sweat
she reached for the water. Once her thirst was quenched, she laid back.
The soft mattress's peaceful embrace drew
her back, but sleep evaded her.
When the orange globe tinted the sky, she
prayed. A solitary commodity that kept her sane. The constant battle for
self-control became worse in the last couple of days.
Sticky after the night's heat, she made
her way to the showers for a refreshing spray of cool water. By 6h00 she left.
Copyright Lynelle Clark
Interview with Sonai Main
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