The chief of the hospital

Some people are childish, even when they grow up. Others are somber and stern-faced even as infants. Kind of like tiny adults, world-weary on the inside, but trapped in a fresh-faced exterior. That is how Maaouya is. He is a 4-year old grownup. A serious kid, with a no-nonsense attitude that was evident from the moment I first saw him. I am tempted to describe him as “studious,” although, obviously, he is too young for school. But this is a helpful description, as it comes close to capturing his aloof demeanor. He floats above the fray with enviable scholarly detachment, and rarely talks or smiles, as though he is preoccupied with other, bigger problems.

But this is not to suggest that he is unhappy. Au contraire, he seems quite content to look on as the other children giggle and play. To look on but not to participate in their games. There is a small but clearly discernable hint of condescension in the way he watches them. Almost pity. There activities are so far beneath him. So childish.

“Bless their little souls,” he seems to say, “When will they ever learn?”

Maaouya – not impressed.

Maaouya comes from a village about an hour’s walk from the town of Tessoua. It is significant that the distance to his village is measured in time spent walking, because when he came to the CURE hospital, he could not walk. He came on his grandmother’s back. His grandmother is named Hadiza, and she told us that Maaouya’s father is a marabout. An Islamic traditional healer. But when Maaouya was born with club foot, there was no way to heal his feet. His parents accepted his fate – he would never walk.

Maaouya – Get this hat off of me.

Perhaps Maaouya acts like a little man because he has grown up around adults and has had little contact with children. Hadiza told us that she didn’t want the other children to make fun of him, so as soon as he was done breastfeeding, she took him in. She didn’t want him to suffer, and she knew that if he stayed at home he would have been picked on by the other kids, and might have fallen through the cracks. So Maaouya spent his days with his grandmother, watching other children playing, but always from a distance. Even though he is very serious, it is clear that Maaouya is very attached to his grandmother, and it is clear that she loves him very much. She sacrificed a lot for him, and she did it gladly.

Hadiza did everything she could to find a way to heal Maaouya’s feet. She looked everywhere. Finally, one day she heard about CURE, and decided to bring him to the hospital. She had to sell a number of house-hold items just to come, but she knew it would be worth it if Maaouya could learn to walk. It was a long healing process, and Maaouya spent months with casts on his legs. Soon everyone knew him at the hospital, and the staff and other patients joked and called him the chief of the hospital. He listened without responding, but always gave a look that seemed to say, “Why are you laughing? It’s not funny. I am the chief.”

Maaouya – Chief.

Finally, Maaouya was released from the hospital, and scheduled to return for a follow up appointment a few months later. His casts were removed and he was given a brace to wear on his feet. It was obvious that Maaouya didn’t much like wearing the brace, but he reacted to this development as he had reacted to every other development in the long road towards his recovery – a shoulder shrug and a knowing look. “What will they think of next?” He was glad to be going home, and we were sad to see him leave.

A few months went by, and Maaouya returned to the hospital. This time, he walked in through the front gate, holding his grandmother’s hand. Everyone was excited to see him, and thrilled to see him up on his feet. He seemed unfazed by the attention. He took it in stride. He refused to smile for pictures, not because he was unhappy, but because a smile would be unbecoming and crass. I pleaded with him, but instead of a smile I got a look of triumph and defiance. It’s just as well.

Maaouya after he came back to the hospital.

Maaouya’s feet.

Maaouya – not amused.

Hadiza told us that when they returned to their village, everyone came to see Maaouya. They saw his feet and gave thanks to God for the miracle of healing. They spoke of little else for a long time. All of the village elders came to pay Maaouya a visit – they lined up to see him in a line that stretched out the door. One by one they came in and greeted him, a huge honor for the family. Obviously, I wasn’t there to witness this procession, but I like to think that Maaouya sat watching them, unmoving and unimpressed – with a mixture of nonchalance and entitlement resting firmly on his brow. He received them the way a chief receives visitors, and maybe one day he will be chief.

Maaouya and Hadiza.

This entry was posted in clubfoot, CURE International, Niger and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The chief of the hospital

  1. chuck kopp says:

    Yes, 4 year old Maaouya may become one of the next chiefs in his village. It reminds me of an experience Liz and I had Sunday last week when we were invited out to dinner by a long term Congressman from the second district of the great state of Arizona. We enjoyed an all around delightful evening at the Links restuarant just 50 meters from our church. After the usual tug o’ war over who would pay the bill, Congressman Franks finally “won the battle” and paid. A dinner guest friend commented, “only your generosity exceeds your good looks” to which he retorted with his barely noticeable defect that he knew he was “tall, dark, and hair lipped.” Not only was he born with a hairlip, his palate was also missing and he had to initially be fed with an eye drop until his parents were able to locate a doctor who could perform the reconstructive surgery he desperately needed. When the doctor, who had assisted in his birth, saw he had no palate, he told his father to just not feed him. The bottom line is that with corrective surgery, the kind CURE does day in and day out, Congressman Franks has gone places in his life and little Maaouya will yet go places. That truely is the potentioal of the spiritual and physical healing that you provide in your children’s hospital.

  2. Pingback: Josh & Julie Korn: The chief of the hospital | Blog | CURE

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s