Sometime last week Anthony was called to Jamaica base for some first aid treatment. A lot of times he or Kennedy will be called after someone has been in a fight or hurt themselves; the reasons are endless. Not much later Ann received a phone call from Anthony; it was urgent, and she left right away. After a few hours, we started getting worried. Ann had left her phone and we couldn't reach her... We didn't know what had happened or where they were. I went to bed, leaving the light on for Ann in case she came back late. When I woke up in the morning, Ann's bed was still empty. They hadn't returned.
A couple hours later, a very tired Ann came home. She explained that when she got to Jamaica base, the woman had been beaten severely and her injuries were more than they could handle. They took her to the hospital. The hospitals in Kenya, I soon found out, are not at all what we know in the US. The need is so great and the waits are so long that people will be waiting in line to see the doctor and will sometimes die waiting. Once they were seen by the doctor, they found out that her injuries were too severe even for him, so they had to go to Kenyata, the national hospital. They found out that she was bleeding internally, hemmoraging, and they didn't really know how what kind of state her organs were in. But they did tell her that she needed surgery right away or she'd be dead within 2 weeks. A little while later, Anthony came back. He'd been busy helping get Njeri, the woman, into the hospital, and also tracking down the man that beat her. He was now in police custody, but there was still so much to be done with statements and what not. We tried to keep Anthony from going back out that night, because since he'd been dealing with the funeral arrangements for his friend, he'd been out every night raising money for the burial. He hadn't slept in 3 days, and probably hadn't eaten in just as many. He wouldn't hear of it, though, and left soon to take care of loose ends.
The next day I went with Anthony to see Njeri. When we arrived, I was shocked to find her in a community style room, sharing a twin-size bed with another woman. The hospital was so full that there were 2 people to every bed; one at the head, one at the foot. As soon as she saw us she started crying. Anthony had told me that she'd refused the surgery, as one of her friends died at Kenyata. Njeri tried to sit up, but was still so weak that Anthony had to pull her up. She leaned against me for support as she spoke with him. After a few moments, she started taking off all her cheap bracelets, earrings, and necklaces. Either her hands and wrists were swollen or the jewelry was too small because she couldn't get it off. Anthony and I had to force it off of her fingers and hands. As I stood there holding her, my heart broke over and over again as I realized that she would be gone in a couple of weeks because she wouldn't have the surgery. She was probably taking her jewelry off to give to somebody. We stayed for a few more minutes, and as Anthony prayed over her, I became angry and teary-eyed thinking about what she had gone through and where she would end up.
As we left her in that room, Anthony and I both had a hard time holding it together. I took her jewelry from him to put in my back and heard him whispering, "She will be okay. She will be okay.." over and over again. I felt at a loss... What could I do to comfort him when we both knew she'd be gone soon?
Once on the bus, he told me that he'd talked to her into having the surgery, which should take place the next morning. She wasn't allowed to have jewelry on during the procedure, which is why she gave it to us. A few minutes later, Anthony had fallen asleep, probably his first sleep in days.
On the day of the surgery, Anthony went to be with her, only to find out the doctors were discharging her from the hospital. They flushed her out (whatever that means) and told her to come back in two weeks. I was so confused and angry... Hadn't they told her that if she didn't have the surgery that she'd be dead in 2 weeks? Now were they sealing her death by sending her home and telling her to come back in 2 weeks?
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From what I've been told, Njeri is being discharged today, many days after she was originally supposed to be discharged. There are plans to rent a house for her and her children for 2 months in Mathare, a local slum. The cost for a home made out of sheet metal and a mud floor is maybe $12 - 16 a month, give or take. Our hope is that she will gain enough strength to start some type of work and be able to pay the 3rd month's rent. Hopefully she will choose to stay in Mathare. Although it is a slum, it's still better than the streets.
