Ebola crisis: Australian aid worker interviews survivors

0
52

Sydney local Carly Learson has joined the fight against Ebola in West Africa. The Australian media officer joined the ranks of the United Nations Development Program (UNDP) visiting refugee camps and communities in Liberia in a bid to establish how the locals are dealing with the aftermath of the fatal disease.

As the number of new cases begins to slow, Ms Learson spoke with survivors to ascertain how they were coping and what type of aid is now required to assist those left behind. This is what she discovered after visiting the village of Banjor and an Ebola refugee camp known as Voice of America (VOA).

‘This disease is spread through love and sympathy’

In many of the areas of Liberia that were hardest hit by Ebola in July and August, there are fewer new cases, but no-one has been left unaffected.

In Banjor, a slum on the outskirts of Monrovia, and VOA, an internally displaced persons camp, the community is struggling to care for hundreds of orphaned children.

They face stigmatisation and financial problems. Many are severely traumatised.

“We didn’t know what to do,” community chairman A. Ishmael Kamara said.

“In one house an entire family died, and the bodies were inside for two days.

“We called 4455 (the Ebola hotline) but there was no answer. People were being turned away from hospital.

“Others had fever and we didn’t know if it was malaria or Ebola – we still don’t know.

“People wanted to run away but we weren’t allowed to leave the area.”

In total, 111 people died in Banjor – 48 men, 32 women and 31 children.

Amjad Kiazolu was one of the community members who organised a local Ebola taskforce with the help of the World Health Organisation and NGO Samaritan’s Purse.

The taskforce consisted of five members from each block. He described the pain of watching friends and relatives suffer.

“This disease is spread by love and sympathy,” he said.

“When a loved one is suffering, the natural response is to go to them and comfort them.

“At the beginning so many people could not watch their children suffer, they cared for them and then they too got infected.”

The Ebola taskforce members described how they worked non-stop visiting households, spreading the message that Ebola was real and educating people on how to prevent infection.

“We knew that we had to get people to wash their hands with bleach,” Mr Kamara said.

“But then their skin started peeling off and they thought they had skin cancer.

“We went around to make sure the mix was right, otherwise they’d stop using it.”

For a community that relies on the market, the Ebola crisis hit the local economy hard.

“Banjor was a no-man’s land,” Mr Kamara said.

“No-one wanted to talk to us.”

During the worst part of the crisis, the area was quarantined. Some local merchants brought food, but it was hard to get enough.

Even now that the crisis is over, Banjor has a bad name and its people are stigmatised when they go to sell in the market.

For families that relied on selling in the market on a day-to-day basis, losing weeks of income ate up their entire savings.

Entire families wiped out, children orphaned

Katumu Konneh’s son-in-law was the first Ebola victim in VOA camp. He became sick one day, but instead of being taken to hospital, the factory where he worked offered him two months’ salary to go home instead.

Several family members were infected after caring for him. They all died. Their houses are now locked until they can be thoroughly sterilised.

Ms Konneh was married, but her husband had three wives and she decided life would be easier on her own.

She has two school-aged daughters who she supports by selling food in the street, or selling toilet paper at the entrance to one of the community’s two toilet blocks.

Since Ebola came, she has not been able to sell much because no-one has any money to buy extra food. Her family eats mostly rice and leaves they collect.

Hawa Musa was living in a house with her husband, brother, sister and brother-in-law, all their children and several renters.

She received rental money, as well as the income her husband would bring in, and was able to live well and care for her family.

Now, of 25 people living in the house, 17 have died from Ebola. She is dealing with the grief of losing her husband, two daughters and many relatives and friends, and at the same time has lost all of her income.

All her renters have died from Ebola, and no-one will move into her house now. She has also taken in children who have been orphaned, and in total is looking after 10 children with the help of her brother, sister and mother.

“All I can do is pray,” she said.

In another house live three women, Bindu Sonnie, and sisters Dudu and Satta Kromah. All three lost their husbands to Ebola.

Now, in addition to their own children, they have taken in 27 children from other families whose parents died.

Dudu cares for a three-month-old baby, and her exhaustion shows in her face.

“I don’t know how we can keep doing this,” she said as she fed the baby a bottle.

“We’re just living day to day, we have no income since our husbands died. It’s a struggle to feed all these children.”

Bindu Sarmavalu’s daughter Hawa was one of just a few nurses in Banjor, and was one of the hundreds of health workers in Liberia to die from Ebola after helping patients.

Hawa’s husband Mohammad looked after her and became infected, but the children were kept away. With the help of the community, Mohammad, was taken to an Ebola Treatment Unit.

After several weeks, he got better.

Hawa had been supporting the entire family, including Mohammad’s mother.

Now, through programs run by the Government and NGOs, Mohammad is employed to train new health workers who are being brought in to help with the crisis. But Bindu said the whole experience had been heartbreaking.

“I feel the pressure, it’s so much I can’t breathe,” she said.

The UNDP will soon start its early recovery programs and initiatives that include direct cash transfers and support to county level government administration to help people get their lives back on track.