Prayer requests
Please continue to pray for ongoing peace in Southern Sudan - especially in the region of Upper Nile where Medair is doing a lot of work.
Pray for the Medair teams in the field - working in difficult conditions.
Pray for the fundraising process to complete the Medair South Sudan Budget for 2007.
Please pray for all kids in South Sudan. Here a real story of what happened in June 2006 in one of the Medair sites in South Sudan. With special thanks to Ryan Kuja.
Rebirth on the Nile
John arrived at the Therapeutic Feeding Center (TFC) that evening as dusk settled upon the village. He was severely ill and malnourished, his frail body gasping for each breath. The nurses on the team examined his tiny body and knew that the outcome was not promising. This precious child weighed merely 4 kilograms and he was nearing his first birthday. His mother was exhausted after a journey of nearly two days. A look of despondency covered her eyes. She had already taken her ailing baby to a doctor for treatment. Unsatisfied with the outcome, she commenced a gruelling multi-day journey by foot in a last attempt to save her child.
I started the truck engine. John's mom sat beside me expressionless, motionless, with him lying on her lap. I steered the truck through the dark night towards the compound.
His skin lay loosely upon his limbs, eyes deep and unfocused. He was too weak to cry in anguish, too weak to flinch in pain when given an injection. Every time his eyes began to close, I feared he would not reopen them.
The nurses laboured unceasingly, continually reassessing John's condition and altering their treatment accordingly. The team gathered around him in the hot, mosquito filled night. We prayed for his healing, that God's will would prevail. His mother, a Christian, affirmed that her child was indeed in God's hands. The nurses worked tirelessly through the night as John and his mother suffered on the floor of our medical storage tent, which became an Intensive Care Unit. Morning came and the rising sun offered new hope. He had made it through the night, but his condition had deteriorated. Every possible treatment option available in this remote location was exhausted. The team came together and once again, we turned to prayer. I placed my hands on John's tiny legs as we pleaded silently for his healing, for life to return to his body.
A few moments later John was freed from all the suffering and anguish that he had endured for so long. He was released from all hurt, pain and torment as he breathed his last and was reborn to a place of peace and joy, where there is no sickness, no hunger. He finally became free from the brutal reality of being a child in post civil war Sudan.
Thankfully, the story of birth on the Nile does not conclude with tears at the searing pain of death that his mother felt, that the team felt. There is always a new beginning, a happy ending, and the triumph of good over evil...
It was less than three days later, a miracle unfolded before my eyes in the exact place on the tent floor where I had met grief and sorrow over witnessing a promising life lost to preventable disease. A pregnant woman arrived at the compound after being carried by a group of men from her village, about a one hour walk away. She had been in labour for two days and many had given up hope for the survival of the unborn child and even the mother. The baby had to be delivered now. She lay down on a mat on the tent floor. The same Medair nurses assessed her condition. A moment later she went into labour once again. The child's head appeared... neck... chest... stomach... legs. The baby girl emerged with the joyful sound of crying, that heavenly noise indicating a healthy child. The mother quickly stabilised as she held her angel in her arms. She was named Sophia after one of the nurses who assisted in safely delivering her.
I witnessed a child enter the world that day, the miracle of birth happened right before my eyes. And so it was that my tears over John's death were replaced with a smile and rejoicing. Yet in the end I realized that I had indeed witnessed two births on the floor of that medical storage tent, both in precisely the same spot. John was reborn and given new life in a place we call Paradise. Sophie was born in the more typical sense, emerging miraculously from her mother's womb into this world.
Nearly every child in southern Sudan is born into poverty, disease and desperation. The 21 year civil war has officially been over for 17 months. Yet the struggle continues for thousands of other children just like John. They live and die in a heartbreaking continuum of extreme, grinding poverty. I cannot help but think about Sophia's future. Will she suffer the same fate as John? Will she too arrive at the TFC less than a year from now, wasting away due to disease and hunger? The sad reality is that 1 in 5 children do not live to the age of six in southern Sudan. Peace has come to this region, if only on paper. Conflict still rages throughout much of the land, with cattle raiding and inter-tribal clashes the norm rather than the exception. Yet when this eventually simmers down, in what situation will Sophie and those born yesterday and today be in? Will food security improve to a reasonable, sustainable level? Will adequate medical care extend to the most remote, inaccessible areas? Will schools open and teachers bestow the gift of knowledge upon eager students? These are things hoped for, yet are still a long way off. Transition and development take time and patience. Yet we must continue... for John and for Sophie. The future of southern Sudan lies in their hands.