The Malawi Project, Inc.

    It Has Been Called "The Eton of Africa"

   The late President Hastings Kamuzu Banda founded the Kamuzu Academy in November 1981. The school has been recognized as an elite facility bringing academic excellence to a highly motivated and skilled student body.

     The school is located in the Kasungu District of Malawi and occupies a large campus close to the village of Mtunthama, east of the district capital of Kasungu. It is situated 150 km north of the national capital of Lilongwe. With its rural setting, far from the distractions of large towns or cities, the pupils can concentrate fully on their educational development.

    The school has been referred to as "The Eton of Africa" and in its early years only accepted the top three students from each of Malawi’s districts.

    The Academy offers courses in Art, Biology, Business Studies, Chemistry, Economics, English, French, Geography, Greek, Latin, Mathematics, Music, Physics, and Double Award Science.

    Although the facility has been viewed as an elite school both in its facilities and in its academic excellence the shortfall in national funding makes it difficult for the school to maintain its everyday needs in order to prepare the leaders of tomorrow. The Malawi Project is sending school textbooks to this facility in order to help form the minds of the young people who will be among the future leaders of Malawi.
   
    Pictured is Mama Cecilia Kadzamira looking over one of the new arrivals before delivery to the school.

The Pain of Recalling

    There is no picture of Lillian Chibaka. The pain of recalling the story can be seen in his face as Doctor Smith Chibaka recalls the events surrounding the last months of the life of his little baby cousin.

    Lillian was born in 1999, and was on the way to becoming a fine young girl with a promising future. Then she started to experience headaches. "Malaria", was the immediate response from medical professionals who had none of the technology and equipment that is available in the simplest community clinic in the west. The prognosis seemed to make sense since malaria is such a threat to the health of this small southeastern nation in sub-Sahara Africa.

Headaches are Back
    Before long the headaches were back and Lillian was taken to the hospital again. "Malaria" was the response from medical sources that still had little in the way of test equipment. But then, malaria was so common that its immediate diagnosis was a daily occurrence for thousands and thousands of people. A curative dose of medicine was given and Lillian was again sent back home.

    Again and again the headaches were back, and the same diagnosis was given. In a part of the nation, where it is unfortunate for a sick child to face a health crisis, little Lillian continued with the headaches.

Diagnosis From Blantyre
    Finally after long months and no relief she was sent to Blantyre where more modern equipment was available for the few who could afford it. Diagnosis? A tumor on the brain that was now too far along for surgery to be accomplished. Had this conclusion been reached earlier a simple surgery would have saved her life.

    At the age of 7, little Lillian, the little cousin of a doctor, died in 2006. All of his training in another country could not help Doctor Chibaka to diagnose a fatal disease in his cousin, because of the lack of technology that is available to nearly every child in the developed nations of the world.

Salima, Malawi … Our car races along behind the yellow Cool Runnings Chevrolet 1975 pick up truck as it bounces over the broken tarmac road from Senga Bay to the district hospital west of the Salima Trading Center in central Malawi. Samatha Ludick from the Cool Runnings resort and the Clinic at the Gate is at it again. The patient in the back of the truck is 80-year-old Hawa Dhaibu, aged mother of Cool Runnings employee Madjidu Mawuadi. Two days ago she fell, but said nothing to anyone about getting medical care. Now, even from this distance behind the pick up, the curve of her foot seems to clearly indicate she probably has a broken hip. "What will happen next," I asked? "She will never walk again," Suzi responded, from the seat beside me, with a tone that reflects years of experience. "Usually at this age many will just give up and die," she concludes. Watching her son sitting beside his mother holding her hand I can’t help but wonder if Magic fully understands what all of this may mean to her, him and the family. After the bumpy drive up a cut off to the hospital that must be giving her excruciating pain we reach the Salima District Hospital. It is the main hospital for the entire Salima District (or state), and would be equal to having her in a single major hospital in a state capital in the U.S. But this is not America, and there is no similarity between this hospital and those in America. We had been here in previous years and impressed with the heroic effort by the medical staff to keep a clean, efficient facility in spite of the major shortage of medical supplies and equipment. Entering the hospital one looks down long hallways and along polished floors that hold no intrusive smells of third world medicine. A slight warm breeze wafts across the hallway from clean, levered windows. Hushed conversations drift out under closed doors and the hallway contains a number of clean, though old, hospital gurneys. "How old," I ask? "Before my time. World War II or before," Suzi concludes. I add it up. That means these gurneys are close to 60 years old. Imagine anything 60 years old still in use in an American health care facility. I look at the ceiling. Metal, slated, rusty roof panels look down on me. When I look again a nurse is coming toward me, face covered in a blue mask, slowly pulling a gurney. Behind her follows a group of 12 or 15 young women wearing somber expressions. As they pass the sheet on the gurney outlines a tiny body covered completely from head to foot. A death has occurred. Down the hall they go, through the double doors, and down the walk toward the morgue. I recall a short time earlier hearing crying from behind one of the hallway doors. Minutes tick by. We arrived around 9:40. 10:45, then 11. Cell phone calls in order to reach someone in authority begin, and then the connection is suddenly lost. Call back and try again. Finally the call is complete and it is explained that a new protocol is in place. Word comes that the patient must be taken back to the woman’s ward where we had taken her in the beginning. Finally at 11:30 we must leave. Samatha waits by the bedside until noon, and then she must leave as well. No x-ray tech has come. No medical officers, and no doctor. It is Saturday and it appears no one will come to attend to her until Monday. In the meantime the little old lady from Mukuti Village will lie in bed on a broken hip and wonder if she is going to die here.

Clinic at the Gate Goes on the Road

    Never to be one to sit back and wait for those in need to come to her Samantha Ludick is taking the Clinic at the Gate "on the road". Even though the clinic has not yet been built on her property she has already received a large number of medical supplies from the Malawi Project, and she isn’t waiting for the patients to come to her.

Burn Patient at Ngolawindo Village
    Pictured caring for a 7-year old-burn patient Samantha Ludick changes a dressing. Because of the supplies Ludick is about to report, "The little girl was burned with boiling water four days before seeing me. When I was asked to look at the wound 4 days after the burn I found a serious infection in the third degree wound. After giving her some simple care and having the proper medical supplies I am pleased to say that after 3 days of treatment she is recovering beautifully."

Next Dealing With "A Fire"
    "No sooner had I completed the task of helping the burn patient that one of the young lake tour guides came to me to report that his back was "on fire". He pleaded for help and removed his shirt so I could see the fire. What I say was not a fire, but was another of those ‘cow manure’ solutions to a health problem. You will remember that we gave care to a small child not long ago who had been taken to a tribal medicine man and cow manure was used to treat the problem. Well, here it was again. I told him he wasn’t on fire, but he had shingles, and they make one feel like they are on fire. Shingles are fairly common here in the village areas, and most villagers have experienced them, or at least one member of their family has had shingles, so they understand when one says they are on fire.  It was not difficult to explain that one can use natural medicine, medicine that God had given us that is better than any other medicine for shingles… I almost felt as if I was contradicting myself… for I had a moment ago been talking about the cow manure mixture that had been put on the little lad’s third degree burn, the mixture wasn’t the correct thing… and now I was telling the tour guider that he should use the milk of the  (Plomaria Robustus) Frangipani leaves for they will stop the fire and dry the blisters. He simply said ‘no, that is like African medicine’ and he pointing to the little lad… look what African medicine did to him… I was able to help him by giving him painkillers and chamomile lotion, thanks to the Malawi Project supporters."

Next I Found Myself Dealing in Dental Needs
    "A short time later at the clinic little Lusia’s mum had said Lucia had been in pain for the last two days with her teeth, I looked into the little ones mouth to find she had at least four large cavities on the bottom row on both sides. She needed to see a dentist. I explained that I am not a dentist, but I would take her to see a Dentist and I would pay the bill. The mum was delighted for she couldn’t bear to see or hear the pain her daughter was in.

    The Dentist explained he could only extract teeth since he doesn’t have the equipment to do fillings. He extracted the three worst ones, gave her painkillers, and explained to her mother how Lucia should be looking after her teeth. "Bring her back on Friday and he would extract 3 more teeth," he said.

    The first thing I did the very next morning was to go to the trading center at Salima and buy toothbrushes. I spent the entire day distributing them and explaining their use.

    Lucia can be seen in the denim dress that is falling off her right shoulder. She is holding up her brand new toothbrush, and she is delighted not to be in pain."

    "At first I was born nicely," says Grace Gondwe as she sits facing the computer screen. It is mid-afternoon and Grace is hard at work as the assistant accountant for the school where she works in Mzuzu, Malawi. Her features are frail, and her voice is soft and gentle. She rubs her hands together in a nervous gesture as she continues with her story.

    "When I was two I fell ill. From my illness I could not move. I was just crawling down. I could not walk again." The year was 1970 and Grace apparently had been one of the many who fell victim to a plague so few understood, the curse of polio. Grace continues her narrative.

I Was So Determined

    "I was determined, in spite of my illness, so I started school in Standard One. I just kept crawling about. I crawled about through each grade up to graduation," she continues. "It was after my graduation and degree in computers that I could be given crutches so I could begin a job. Now I have this job and I come to work each day." Her employer, Randy Judd, an American missionary who operates the school outside Mzuzu, reports, "Grace is one of our best employees. In spite of her difficulty Grace comes to work rain or shine, on time, and does her job in an excellent way."

    Grace continues her story. "I was only married for the time I was in school. That is all. Today I have two girls, Pillirani, age 14 and Glory who is 18. Both girls cannot go to school at this time because we do not have the money for their school fees."

    From the northern Malawi Timbuktu tribe Grace proudly reports she is from M.Nzimba Village in the Mzimba District under the Tribal Authority of T. A. Mtwalo.

    At 40 years of age Grace has suffered more than most people 20 years her senior. After telling her story it is time for the interview to close, as she needs to complete her tasks for the day. 4:30 will arrive all too soon and she will have to struggle down the long, dirt path to the main road where she will catch a bus south to her home near the local airport. Tomorrow she will reverse the trip, coming back to her job in accounting. Day after day, week after week, laboring mile after mile after mile.

    Soon another shipment of wheelchairs will be on the way to Malawi. Grace is on the list of future recipients.