The Malawi Project, Inc.

One Can Little Imagine the Scene

    One can little imagine what it must be like for a mother to spend 17 years of her life carrying her child on her back everywhere she goes. Yet this is what happened to Afilo Mkwapatira’s mother. Afilo is 17 years old and comes from the Kuiza Village in the Dedza District * of central Malawi. He and his mother live within the jurisdiction of tribal chief Tambalo. Afilo has never been able to move about by himself, nor has he ever been able to speak.

    Then through the assistance of the Free Wheelchair Mission in Irvine, California and the Malawi Project in Indianapolis, Indiana; Afilo was able to receive a wheelchair.

    Even today Afilo cannot speak but his mother is able to speak for him. "Today is a day of deliverance. For the past 17 years I have carried Afilo on my back. I have been looking for this day to come to my life. God indeed has heard my crying and prayers. I will now be able to do work at home, and support my son and my other children."

* The Dedza District of Malawi is the district or state just south of the capital of Lilongwe. It straddles the main highway through the nation, highway M-1 and is the home of the famous cave drawings that date back into the 1500’s. Its population in 2001 was 526,874. In 2008 the population is estimated to be 669,511. Like most of the countryside of Malawi there are almost no paved roads, no electricity, no telephones, scarce healthcare, and a struggling educational system. With an income of little more than $100.00 a year the population of the countryside can offer little help to the federal government in the way of tax revenue, and thus the federal government is helpless to be able to assist the village people in their basic needs. Although a federal governmental system is in place much of the governance of the village areas is still in the hands of the ancient tribal system of government.

The Lake Spreads Out in Front of Him

    Wind whipped trees turn their faces toward the land and away from the winter winds that push angry waves in from the lake. Dark, broken clouds force the sun to climb unseen into an angry sky, while a lone seagull tries unsuccessfully to skim along the wave tossed surface.

    Along the beach a row of weather beaten fishing boats lay at attention as a lone light burns atop an unkempt ragged looking building. Minutes pass and the early dawn begins to lighten with a tinge of pink as the unrelenting sun seeks a peek hole through which it can influence the day. Dark shadows move among the silent boats as the fishermen of the ancient village prepare to challenge the white caps that tear away at the sandy beach on which the boats lay uneasily. Some of the fishermen challenge the lake in long boats, motorized with modern outboard engines, while others drag carved out logs into the pounding surf.

Mdelakwanda Has Witnessed This Scene
    It is a scene that Chief Mdelakwanda has witnessed a thousand times, and although he is not on the beach he knows the picture full well. More minutes tick away and the activity intensifies from the village. As the sun tries to make its presence known the people awaken to the urgency of getting the boats away. The lone seagull returns for another challenge, then unsuccessful, he gives up and floats defeated in over the trees.

    From somewhere a lone figure appears on the beach, passes the long boats without a word, and then disappears into the distance near the village as though he has someplace to go. Still more minutes pass and the sun begins to take control of the sky and push the menacing clouds off to the west. Women come to the shore to wash mismatched pans and silverware, while the wind persists and the waves maintain control of the shore. The fishermen seem not to notice as they continue to prepare. Finally the boats are ready and the struggle begins against the persistent surf and the unrelenting waves. Life seems so fragile, so frail, and unsure. The waves seem so strong, so definite, so threatening. Two hours pass with great effort and agonizing progress.  Finally the last of the long boats are away. Away from the danger of the shoreline too, are the carved out logs that are manned by a single fisherman. They paddle hard to position themselves where they can be picked up by the long boats out they wait beyond the breakers. With each turbulent surge from the waves the log boats disappear into the trough, and then pop up again as the water rises again to form the next wave.

    Finally the last of the fishermen have disappeared over the horizon and the village waits for their return at the end of the day. As morning slides into afternoon the wind seems to lesson and the surface of the lake slackens its onslaught on the shore and eyes turn toward the east to see the fishermen return.

The Chief Looks Away From The Sun
    On the shore just south of one of the seven villages that make up his protectorate Chief Mdelakwanda watches for the return of the fishing boats. The sun is heading down in the west and not all of the long boats have yet returned from the fishing grounds east of the villages. Not only is the chief concerned with the size of the catch; he is also concerned that the fishermen come home safely.

    Mdelakwanda is the chief over nearly 13,000 people in the villages of Senga Bay, Malawi. When asked about his age he smilingly says he is 48, while others who know him seem to think he is nearer to 68. "Gardening and fishing," he responds when asked through the translator concerning the means by which his people make a living. Then he turns serious when he is asked what are the greatest problems and needs he faces while trying to care for such a large number of people. He looks over toward Samatha Ludick from the Cool Runnings Lake Resort as through she will answer his question. She smiles and he turns back to the translator. "Medicine, a hospital, and education," he answers with little more hesitation. "Without these things my people will continue to suffer. It is 29 kilometers to the nearest hospital and we do not have single Galimoto (car) among all of our people. No one who is sick can walk that far. We need a place here in Senga Bay where they can go for help."

    "We are also in need of education," he reports to the translator. "Without education our people will always remain doing the same things. We must have a school for our people."

    The chief know he does not have the resources to pull his villages out of the cycle of poverty they find themselves enmeshed; yet he is too proud to ask directly for outside aid.

    Good chiefs in Africa live among their people and use the resources that are made available to them to serve the people with whom they live. Caring for their people is an all-encompassing responsibility and Chief Mdelakwanda takes the job seriously. He looks out across the empty expanse of water then back at the translator.

Mdelakwanda Gives Jurisdiction to Avoid Conflict
    It is a well-known fact that when he was made a chief that his brother, who was not chosen, was angry and upset. Rather than have a continuing family crisis Mdelakwanda gave his brother jurisdiction over one of the village areas. This ended the dispute and both men were content with the arrangement that Mdelakwanda had worked out. Concerning the environment the Chief is a pragmatic man. His concern has little to do with smog in Los Angeles or the melting glacier ice cap at the North Pole. It has everything to do with the equation that concludes, "A dirty environment is bad for heath, and bad heath converts to long and costly time away from the village and in the hospital, and this is a cost he does not wish to share." He like many of the people in this part of Africa, know the top lid of a peanut butter jar when left on the ground and partially full of stagnant water can breed a thousand mosquito larvae. From this can hatch at least 500 mosquitoes. If even a small number of these mosquitoes carry malaria it means more illness. More illness means more cost to the village. He is a pragmatic man. He realizes fewer mosquitoes mean less malaria, less malaria, means less illness, and less illness means a lower cost to the village. It is a pragmatic reason for the Chief to work with Ludick to protect the environment of the Senga Bay area.

    One of the programs Ludick and the chief are successfully accomplishing is the program to harvest the plastic bags and containers that are left behind by the careless, sell them for a profit, and create a cleaner environment that will convert to healthier villagers, lower heath care costs, and a greater measure of tourist interest to his area. It is a plan no chief would want to ignore.

A Yao Chief Waits for His Fishermen to Return
    Mdelakwanda takes his job seriously. A Yao chief his tribal leader is not too far away in the south of Malawi and they all come from a proud and rich heritage. The interview nears its conclusion. The fishing boats are returning to the safety of the village. Chief Mdelakwanda is yet to learn of the success of the day’s catch far out into the lake. It is the 3rd largest lake in Africa and the 12th largest in the world. It can sometimes be a place of great danger. Chief Mdelakwanda knows this full well. He is the chief for seven of the villages that line the shore.

    Those early morning hours will remain unforgettable in Mackson’s life. As always he went to play in the neighborhood with the other children. But this day would not be like other days and unfortunately he was caught up in an accident when a pot of boiling water tipped over his back and splashed onto his left upper back. The burns were severe. Burns such as this take the lives of many children in Malawi as they fall around the cooking pots that stand unguarded around most of the houses. At four years of age little Mackson Kapeni would not have known the full extent of the danger until it was too late.

    Immediately someone called for the mother and she rushed the boy to a nearby health center where he was evaluated, but they did not have any supplies with which to assist him. He was then transferred to Bwaila Hospital - (Formerly called Bottom Hospital). This is a major medical center in the capital, but as with most hospitals in Malawi they are often short of supplies. On this day it was as it is so often and there was very little that could be done at this center due to lack of medicines.

    The mother was directed to the Sacred Promise Clinic where we had medicines because of supplies given to us by the Malawi Project. We quickly attended to the burns and were able to send him home. He continues to return on an out patient basis.

    Mavuto Chifumbi lives in Makwani Village in the area of Traditional Tribal Authority Chief Mponela in the Dowa District of central Malawi, Africa. He is not sure about his age, but is probably in his early fifties.

    Mavuto was born with both legs, and was able to walk until 1972. On the dreadful morning of 18th April 1972, Mavuto was crossing the road at the Mponela Trading Centre. A speeding car was approaching from the north. Unfortunately for Mavuto as he was trying to cross the road he stumbled and fell to the ground on the highway. The driver could not stop and he ran over Mavuto’s legs. From this accident he lost the use of both of his legs. From that moment onward Mavuto was destined to crawl on the ground like some sort of pitiful animal.

    At home Mavuto has a wife and five children. Two girls and three boys must help their father everywhere he goes. But today Mavuto it is different for him after his trip to Blessings Hospital. He smiles as he says,

"Today is a relief day in my life. For the past world I have been crawling like this." Mavuto demonstrates by crawling towards the wheelchair. "I wish to inform the world that today I will stop crawling and will use this wheelchair. God is the only one who can understand my happiness that is inside me. I know it is very difficult for people to know, for they cannot see my happiness that is inside me. This wheelchair will support my family and me, I will now be able to move freely without someone taking me on his or her back when either going to Church or to the market. May God bless all the people that put their money together to get this wheelchair for me. I have a small business. I am a cobbler. I do fix people’s shoes, and I will use this wheelchair when going to the market to assist the people in my community."