Rwandan Orphan

Amidst much "Ooohing and aaahing", the Australians showed the Rwandan women how to fit the nappies.  Excitedly, the women went about wrapping up the babies and diarrhea children, as if they had been given the best present in the whole world.
When I arrived, I could not believe the difference.  The babies were clean and powdered!  Someone had sent baby powder!   Dressed in donated baby clothes, beautiful happy babies lay in blankets, warm and comfortable --as babies should be.  Even the dysentery children were clean and happier.  They could now lie on clean blankets, an item which had previously had to be replaced each day, because they were so fouled with bloody diarrhea.  The Rwandans helpers smiled with pride as I gazed on with amazement.  The feeling in the tents was so positive.

At last we are getting on top of this, I thought with relief. After their breakfast, I helped wash the children outside the tent.  It was late morning and the sun was shining for a change.  It was the perfect time to give them a really good scrub.  Spreading out a sheet of plastic, I filled a bowl with water, took a cake of soap and a towel from stores and one by one, sat the babies on the plastic.  Water was still restricted, so I had to use one bowl of water for three babies.  Some of the babies squealed, but most sat quietly, enjoying the feeling of soap and water cleaning away the filth.  Once  washed, the older children dried them off and the assistants fitted clean nappies.

By mid-day there was very little left for me to do.  Everything was under control.  It was such a strange feeling.  I handed out blankets and protein biscuits, but there was no urgency, anymore.  The job could be done by anyone.  It was time.  Time to move on.  Bidding everyone farewell that afternoon, I hitched a ride back to Goma.

'Hey, Gaynor.  You know how we talked about going to see the gorillas?' Jane entered the house excitedly, or as excitedly as you were ever likely see Jane.  She was such calm person, who seemed to carry the tragedy of the world on her shoulders with a quiet strength and compassion that was humbling to be around.

Yeah, I remember,' I smiled delighting in her excitement.

'I've organized it,' she said triumphantly.  There is a guy in town who runs safaris.  He has a Hi-Ace bus that can seat ten people.  His driver will take us up there.'

'Sounds great.  How many of us will be going?'

'Tommy, Maeve, Orla, and Paul from Goal and you and me.  We split the two hundred dollars transport between us.  There is another one hundred and twenty five dollars each that has to be paid at the park.'

Child being washed

Six weeks after I arrived - the children are looking better

Guerrillas?  What do you mean "guerrillas"?' but we were already gone.
 What are those two up to?  Perturbed, Tom reversed into the road and slowly made his way to the water purifying station.

'Come in, come in,' smiled Orla, on seeing the girls.  'Take a  plate and help yourselves.  There is plenty for everyone.'
The food was delicious.

'Hi Gaynor.  And where have you been?' asked Mick, as I sat down on the arm of a couch near my old friends.

'Katale.  Things were pretty bad there, but it is under control now,' I smiled proudly, as if I had done it all myself.  I bit into a chop.

'Is that so?  We were just discussing Rwanda.  Three of us leave in two days.  We are looking for a fourth to volunteer.'
I stopped chewing.  Rwanda?  My heart beat slowed and the world sounded muffled.  A strange feeling enveloped me and conflicting, jumbled thoughts warred in my head. What's going on?  This is what you wanted, wasn't it?  Yes, but now?  So much death.  There is just so much death.  I don't want to die.  Rwanda is still so tense.  It could erupt again at any moment.  Communications are almost non-existent.  We would be isolated.  At least in Goma I have a base to come home to every night and contact with the outside world.  There are important UN people here and if all hell breaks loose, the airport is only a few minutes away.

Ashamed, I realized what that feeling was.  Fear.

I returned to the room with a jolt.  Mick was looking expectantly at me. Unable to hold his gaze, I looked down at the food on my plate.  Suddenly, it did not seem so appetizing anymore.

Smooth as can be, Mick turned to another girl in the group, 'Jenny, if you are keen, we would love to have you join us.'

Blood rushed to my face.  Standing up, I went through to the kitchen.  How could I ever face him again?  He had accepted me, had seen something in me that was worthwhile.  He had wanted me to be a part of his special group and I had let him down.  Unable to face him, I begged off for an early night.  Goal House One was already overcrowded, so I spread my sleeping bag out on the lawn and lay under the stars.

I had failed.  I had failed Mick and I had failed myself.  I had failed the people of Rwanda. A tear rolled silently from the corner of my eye.  In my moment of truth, I had come to realise..... that I am a coward.