patient story: Hadiatou, the Girl With the Well-Loved Name

Hadiatou was born with a cleft lip, a condition so repugnant and frightening to the people in her village that they believed she should not be given a name. Even her father felt this way and refused to allow her to have the traditional baby naming ceremony.

Fatumata, the baby’s mother, remembers these early days all too well. “Ousaman, my husband, had a stone heart that made me very unhappy. I knew that God loved our daughter, so why didn’t he?” Even some sympathetic neighbors implored Ousaman to support his newborn daughter. But Ousaman refused to budge, forcing Fatumata to make a painful decision. She would hold her own ceremony to name her child. “It was very difficult to go against my husband, but our daughter was a human being, and I loved her. No matter her condition, she would have a name.” Fatumata prayed about a good name for her daughter, choosing “Hadiatou,” which means well-loved. She prayed that the love in this name would one day bring Hadiatou the healing she needed.

Despite her cleft lip, Hadiatou was a happy child who touched the hearts of her two brothers, Ousaman and Mamadou, with her unique smile. Fatumata recalls, “Hadiatou’s brothers always thought that Hadiatou was so courageous. They played with her and sang her songs to help her go to sleep.”

Hadiatou, true to her name of being well-loved, also softened her father’s heart. According to Fatumata, “There was something in Hadiatou’s courage that made Ousaman feel differently. While it still pained him to have a daughter with a deformity, he developed a grudging affection for her spirit. Instead of accepting insults about Hadiatou, he would speak up for her.”

While she prayed for God to help Hadiatou, Fatumata admits she was doubtful. “I did not know what caused Hadiatou’s cleft lip. No one in the village had a condition like this, so we all believed it was something that could not be fixed. I could not imagine that there were people who could treat something like this.”  

When Hadiatou was seventeen, something quite unexpected happened. Samba, a fine young farmer she met through her brother Mamadou, fell head over heels in love with her. Samba was drawn to Hadiatou’s kindness and her sense of humor. He saw great beauty in her eyes, and he knew Hadiatou was the wife God had made for him. Fatumata felt a stirring of hope for her daughter. If God sent Hadiatou a husband, maybe he would send her healing too!

When Hadiatou and Samba were blessed with a chubby baby boy, they talked about having a very special baby naming ceremony – to help make up for what Hadiatou missed. But suddenly, plans for the naming ceremony were put on joyful hold. Samba’s cousin Manay, three villages away, confided to Samba that their two-month-old son, Bubacar, had a funny lip like Hadiatou’s, but that a hospital ship in Conakry fixed it. Immediately, Samba borrowed the money needed for Hadiatou, her mother, and the baby to go to Conakry to Mercy Ships. Hadiatou and Fatumata were first taken to the HOPE Center for the weekend, until Hadiatou could be examined first thing Monday morning. Fatumata was overwhelmed by the reception they received.

On Monday, Hadiatou was given an appointment for surgery. And, by the end of the week, her cleft lip was repaired and on the mend. After two weeks of tender post-op care, she was ready to return home. As Hadiatou left the hospital for the last time, Fatumata turned to her and said, “Praise God for this miracle. Thanks to Mercy Ships we will have the most beautiful baby naming ceremony ever . . . with the most beautiful mother there is!”

Written by Joanne Thibault

Edited by Nancy Predaina

Photographs by  Debra Bell and Bright Effowe

Hadiatou was born with a cleft lip, a condition so repugnant and frightening to the people in her village that they believed she should not be given a name. Even her father felt this way and refused to allow her to have the traditional baby naming ceremony.

 

 

At the age of seventeen, something quite unexpected happened to Hadiatou. She met Samba, a young farmer who fell head over heels in love with her. They married and now have a chubby baby boy that they both adore.

When Hadiatou, Fatumata and the baby arrived in Conakry, they were taken to the Mercy Ships HOPE Center. Patients waiting and recovering from surgery receive accommodation and food in this clean and modern facility. Fatumata was overwhelmed by the reception they received, saying, “When we arrived, Ama, the Mercy Ships day-worker, took care of us right away. She gave us food and helped us settle in. Ama was wonderful!”

Following surgery Hadiatou received tender care from Mercy Ships volunteers and day-workers on the ward and in the outpatient tent. A slight infection in Hadiatou’s wound was quickly healed thanks to the high level of professional care provided to all Mercy Ships patients.

Hadiatou looks forward to planning her son’s baby naming ceremony with her husband Samba when she returns home. Fatumata, a very happy mother says, “Praise God for this miracle. Thanks to Mercy Ships we will have the most beautiful baby naming ceremony ever with the most beautiful mother there is!”

Hadiatou, the girl with the well-loved name, is eager to return home to her loving husband, Samba. They will be extremely busy planning and preparing for the baby naming ceremony for their little one. Relatives will come from everywhere to pay honor to the baby . . . and his beautiful mother.

 

Merry Christmas from the floating hospital...

Singing in the hospital is an everyday thing around here:

Merry Christmas everyone!!!!!

Little one, welcome home

One year ago, on December 16, my littlest brother came home.

For today, my heart is on the other side of the planet with my family.

 

Levi,

You are so loved!

You have been loved since before we met you. Even before we saw your photo and knew your name we were waiting for you.

You are so brave. Your whole life changed last year- you came to a new country, learned a new language, let us love you and loved us back. This first year together went so quickly!

The first day mom and dad met you in China, I stayed up until after 2:00 am to see you on Skype. You were busy trying to push the buttons on the computer, but I saw you smile for the first time. I remember I asked mom and dad if you were bigger or smaller than you seemed in your picture. They told me they weren't sure, because you came to them bundled in so many layers of clothes. They kept you very warm!

Finally we saw you in person at the airport. You were so sleepy, you just wanted Dad to hold and not look at any of the new people surrounding you, but you did let Jonathan give you a hug.

 

 

Last Christmas was so special. I wonder if you will always remember something about coming home at Christmas time, with the lights and decorations.

Everything was new for you when you came home. Your file said that you were afraid of dogs. It was very true, you cried and ran the first time you saw Toby. But then you were curious. You would go tug open the back door and peek into the garage. When you saw the dog you would cry and slam the door. But then you would want to open it again, and somewhere in that game you and Toby became friends. Now, feeding the dog is one of your favorite things to do.

It didn't take you long at all to start following Jonathan's every move- I can't wait to hear about all the adventures the two of you have together.

 

 

 

I miss you Levi. I miss you and Jonathan and Jenna and Mark. You are a Scheumann now, and I am so glad you are home!

Love,

Suzanne

 

evermore.

"Evermore" by Phil Wickham

One of the songs I have been listening to a lot this Christmas season, and the pictures below are of decorations here on ship. I put a YouTube link at the bottom of the post.

The lyrics of this song remind me of the big picture of the purpose of Christ's birth, it is the gospel summarized in a few lines.

Be blessed in these days leading up to Christmas, and remember Who we are celebrating.

 

 

 

 

Memouna's Laugh: patient story

Catherine, a friend and one of the Mercy Ships crew writers, wrote this article about one of our recent patients. It blessed me to read it and I wanted to share it here as well:




Go down two flights of stairs on the Africa Mercy, and you’ll find you’ve stepped out of a ship and into a busy buzzing hospital. On the wards you’ll find kids playing, doctors praying, patients visiting, and plenty of African music. Listen . . . you’ll hear conversations in English echoed by translators in French or one of Guinea’s three local languages – the chatter forms a background like white noise.

One would expect that a 13-year-old girl would be among the chattiest – but not Memouna.

Memouna’s pronounced facial tumor began above her left eyebrow, spilling down her face to the corner of her mouth and displacing her left eye. This tumor, a neurofibroma she has had since birth, left her looking like one side of her face was sliding off – like Dali’s famous melting clock in a desert. From behind the curtain of her deformity, Memouna saw the world with her good right eye. And . . . to her despair . . . the world saw Memouna.

For 13 years she was taunted for her appearance. Moreover, superstitions run deep in West African culture, and physical deformities are believed to be the sinister mark of someone cursed. Memouna was not only teased by peers – she was completely dismissed. The drooping facial tumor became the source of a broken spirit.


“She was not happy because in Africa people stay away from her. She would cry because she did not understand why no one liked her,” said Memouna’s 17-year-old sister, Aminata, the oldest of her nine siblings.

“I had so many sleepless nights worrying how to help my child,” said Memouna’s father, who was trying to sell his car to afford her surgery when he learned the Africa Mercy was coming to Conakry. “I was told that no one would be able to do the surgery except Mercy Ships. I had no money to pay with . . . and then God paid!”

On Wednesday, 26 September 2012, Mercy Ships surgeons removed Memouna’s tumor. After her operation, even under layers of bandages, the transformation was profound. Memouna’s profile no longer appeared rough and misshapen. Her face had been physically lifted from the weight of the tumor. Nurses hoped her spirits would follow, but removing years of social isolation is a much more complicated procedure.

In the days after her operation, quiet Memouna said nothing, while her father and sister took turns staying at the hospital and speaking on her behalf. “I’m sorry, maybe she will talk more another day,” her sister would say to visitors.

Mercy Ships ward nurse Lynne White said, “It was a long time before I realized she spoke. She was so silent that I didn’t think she could. But I can understand it. She went from spending her life keeping to herself with no friends, and then she came here and was overwhelmed by the attention.”

One night a week after the surgery, Lynne came into the ward to find Memouna listening to headphones, nodding her head to music and mouthing the words. “I couldn’t believe it, so I did whatever I could to try to get a laugh out of her – I started dancing!” Lynne said. “Memouna just laughed and laughed. It was wonderful!”

Two weeks later Memouna arrived on the dock with her father for a check-up. She kept to herself, waiting on the benches. “Is that my Memouna?” Lynne exclaimed. Hearing her name, Memouna glanced around to find Lynne, not walking, but dancing over to her. “It’s you, you’re here!” Lynne cheered, waving her arms in the air.

Memouna clapped her hands and covered her mouth, trying and failing to hold back her giggles.

Even though Memouna does not give up her laughter easily, she lets those who show her love see the real Memouna. In those moments, there is a cute teenager in a pink sweatshirt and orange nail polish . . . where a timid, downcast child used to be.

The removal of Memouna’s tumor marks the beginning of physical . . . and spiritual . . . healing.

Thirteen-year-old Memouna is seen by Mercy Ships doctors on Screening Day on 3 September 2012.

Memouna’s tumor, a neurofibroma, covered the left side of her face. For years she was teased by her peers because of her appearance.

After her surgery, Memouna remained quiet, letting her sister and father do the talking for her.

Lynne (a Mercy Ships nurse) and Memouna dance on the docks.

Where there once was a quiet and shy little girl, there is now a smiling, dance-loving, thirteen-year-old with orange painted nails. Here, Memouna is all giggles with Africa Mercy Writer, Catherine Murphy.



Written by Catherine Murphy

Edited by Nancy Predaina

Photos by Debra Bell







 

new website

Mercyships.org has been redesigned- the new website is beautiful! Here are a few screen shots:

 

Go check it out for yourself!

 

www.mercyships.org

 

 

evening on deck 7 in photos

Sunset happens quickly between about 6:30 and 7:00, I headed up to deck 7 to enjoy it today and took some photos.

 

 

Christmas decorating!

Today I helped bring out the Christmas decorations from storage and set them up around the ship. It was announced at Monday morning meeting that decorating would happen Saturday afternoon, and they said we put up lots. They weren't kidding! There are wonderful Christmas decorations for every public area on the ship.

I put up lots of the Christmas decorations at home every year. I always look forward to decorating. Really, I look forward more to sitting in the living room with a cup of hot chocolate enjoying the Christmas tree and a quiet fire. But to get to that point all the decorations have to be dragged out of storage and the tree needs to be straightened and all the little bits of green need to be vacuumed off the floor when it's done. And once all the empty boxes are back in their places and it is dark outside, I can just sit and look at the tree glowing.

So, it seemed only right that I should participate in the decorating of the ship. I have been forgetting that December 25th is quickly approaching. But after assembling several small trees, untangling some lights and listening to one of the academy students practicing "Joy to the World" this afternoon, I am reminded that Christmas comes in Africa too. It's just sunnier.

Romina and I worked on the trees on top of the Cafe.

The finished work later this evening:

Even the gangway got some lights!