Nansasala Clinic Dedication

When we met with Ambassador on February 15, she had invited us to attend a clinic dedication  she would attend in the Zomba district in a few days. We thanked her and told her we would put it on our calendar. So, once we returned home to Zomba, we started asking friends about the location of the Nansasala Clinic. Although it is in the Zomba district, no one we asked, even native Malawians who have lived here all their lives had ever heard of the Nansasala Village or clinic. 

 With only a day before the event, George came upon a website called Mapcarta. There he was able to search for Nansasala and to get directions from Zomba, noting turns on unmarked dirt roads and paths, right down to the tenth of a kilometer. We stopped by the Minister of Health’s office to confirm our Mapcarta directions.    The Minister of Health was not in, but one gentleman in her office didn’t know where the clinic was and suggested that we travel out to a rural hospital near a community called Jali and ask them to give us directions to the clinic. George and I decided to trust Mapcarta instead.

The Minister of Health’s office told us the dedication was to begin at 2:30, but our correspondence with the Ambassador’s office indicated it was to start at 3:30. Just to be on the safe side, we decided to go at 2:30.  As it turned out, Mapcarta was accurate down to one tenth of a kilometer. That was good because none of the roads between Zomba and the clinic were labeled.   The last leg of the journey was several km down a windy one lane dirt road. Suddenly, around a bend in the road there was a police roadblock staffed by half a dozen sharply dressed, uniformed officers. They never asked for our IDs, but when we asked where the clinic was, they pointed to a trail off to our right. 

 Ours was the only car there as we drove into the  lot in front of the clinic, our tires sinking into the soft sand.    A few dignitaries and police officers   standing in clusters talking stopped to look us over. We asked one gentleman where to park and were told to drive out of the lot and park along the road. The narrow road in front of the clinic was bordered by deep ditches, so the only place we could possibly park was exactly where the police officers were positioned.   One officer noting our dilemma directed us to park in the narrow frontage by a tiny shop in the center of the roadblock.

From there, we walked in, feet slipping in the soft sand, and were greeted with singing by the more than 50 village women who were standing in the shade of a grove of trees. We passed them smiling and waving and proceeded to tour the property.    At the time there were a few dignitaries already present seated on the front row of four rows of seats.   We moved toward the back row but one of the village chiefs sitting on the front row invited us to sit by him. Supported by six wood posts, burlap bags sewn together shaded the chairs.   In the center of this arrangement were a burgundy upholstered armchair and a table flanked by a Malawi flag on one side and an American flag on the other. This was the seat of honor, reserved for the American Ambassador who had not yet arrived. We shook hands with the dignitaries then took our seats.

The project manager, a gentleman named Edison, sat down by us and introduced himself. He gave us a warm handshake, and then asked us what everyone there was probably wondering, “How was it that you came to be at this dedication?”  We told him that a few days ago in a meeting with the Ambassador in Lilongwe she had invited us to come. He was satisfied with that answer and proceeded to give us many details about the clinic’s purpose and how his efforts had helped bring  this project  to fruition. This clinic, he said, will serve prenatal and children under 5 years of age from five surrounding villages.

We learned that although over 150 villages had submitted project plans to the Ambassador’s office, only five were selected to receive US support. One of the requirements  for the US grant was that the village had to contribute 1/3 of the cost, materials or labor.  The people of this village contributed all the sand and mud to make the bricks to build the clinic including a waiting room and two examination rooms as well as a residence for the medical technician who would staff the facility. We were impressed.   We told Edison that we work in rural villages around Zomba and we know how important it is for the women and children of the village to have accessible health care. We commended him for his hard work and dedication to the project.   He was obviously very proud of his accomplishments, both getting the grant and bringing the project to completion.

A little later, several tribal authorities including all the village chiefs and the traditional authority for the region arrived. The traditional authority, an inherited position, is the head chief, over all of the  other tribal authorities in the region. Officials from the Zomba Health Minister’s office as well as  local school officials  were also in attendance. Then two ambulances arrived bringing several nurses and medical technicians, all dressed in blue hospital scrubs.

 

By this time, the tent had filled up and the number of women and children seated in the shade of a grove of trees had swollen to over 200. As if signaled that the ceremony was about to begin, the women moved from the grove of trees and lined both sides of the trail leading from the road to the clinic.  Through the trees approaching the compound entrance we saw a convoy of three white SUVs that contained the Ambassador.  Suddenly, the women of the villages with much singing and dancing began waving tree branches as they led the Ambassador’s convoy to the front of the clinic.  Everyone rose to their feet to welcome Ambassador Jackson who walked directly from her car to join the women in dancing. 
 

Next, all of the guests followed as Edison and other officials as they led the Ambassador  to the entrance of the clinic. There she with the assistance of a little girl from the village cut the ribbon.  We were all given  a quick tour of the facilities, including the waiting room, two examination rooms, and the small residence for the attending medical technician.   Then in back of the new clinic officials showed her the site of the “clinic” before this one was built. It consisted of four poles and a patchwork of burlap bags sewn together for a cover.  The center of the compound was a circular garden ringed by bricks. Here the Ambassador symbolically planted a tree.  

After Ambassador Jackson was seated, the speeches began. Her husband, Mark Jackson, who was seated beside me leaned over and whispered, “We have observed that the smaller the project, the longer the speeches.”  We heard from many dignitaries including the project manager, Edison, each of the village chiefs, officials from the Health Minister’s office, and the traditional authority.   

What followed was a short comedy skit with actors from the local community. One of the actors’ funny clothing and manner indicated he was a clown.   We have been told that Malawians enjoy drama and humor very much, and although we do not understand Chichewa, the laughter and applause indicated that everyone thought this skit was very funny.

As the thunder rumbled and the sky darkened, large drops of rain began to dot the women and children seated on the ground. Some of the women who had umbrellas used them to shield themselves and their little ones nursing on their laps. Children pressed in to find shelter there too.  Other women pulled the piece of cloth that is usually used to carry their babies on their backs to cover themselves and their little ones.  As the rain increased, one of the officials stood and invited the children to come under the tent. The children rushed forward and seated themselves facing all the officials, looking intently up at us. Meanwhile under the shelter, along the seams in the burlap, the rain softly dripped and spattered, but no one was complaining.

Next it was Ambassador Jackson’s turn to speak.  She acknowledged each of the dignitaries who attended the celebration.  We were very surprised when she said, “I would also like to recognize two fellow Americans who came to attend this celebration, George and Phyllis Crispi., who are living and working in the Zomba district.”  Then she thanked the village leaders for donating the land and congratulated the people for their hard work and dedication to this project. She told them how impressed she was to see their initiative to undertake such a project that would benefit themselves and their families for years to come. She stated some of the functions of the clinic, including prenatal examinations and childhood immunizations. She encouraged the community to take good care of the facility, and  at that point, she officially turned over the clinic to the community, and everyone cheered.

  The Ambassador and her husband, Mark Jackson, came over, shook our hands, and thanked us for attending,  Mr. Jackson told us how impressed he was that we would, after retirement, move to Malawi and get engaged in improving lives in the rural villages. He underscored what we had already heard from the Ambassador, that the US is keenly interested in  projects such as ours in Malawi that are aimed at reducing deforestation and clean burning cookstoves.

 

The Ambassador’s cameraman, Chris, invited George to his SUV to receive a gift from the Ambassador, two official US Embassy soccer balls. How thoughtful. She remembered  from our visit to the Embassy that we take soccer balls to the villages in which we work and play with the children. What a lovely lady the Ambassador is.  We enjoyed very much meeting her, and we are grateful for her acknowledgement of the value of our work.