Gumption.

I have been safely back in Shropshire for the last six weeks now after a brilliant and tearful Africana send off. This means snuggling down each night with a duvet, enjoying my wonderful family, staying too long in the bath and watching Made in Chelsea (shudder- I mean from Kambia to MIC, I guess you could call that escapism). Luckily I start a new job next week in a friendly birth centre in South London. Hopefully I will then be spending more time marvelling at the NHS and less time wondering whether Binky is finally going to man up or if Jamie is going to ever give up on Lucy.

However Salone has never been more than a thought away, especially in the last couple of weeks. Ebola finally, tragically, made it's way to Kambia District.

This has meant that the Kambia Appeal volunteers have had to be evacuated. It must be heartbreaking to leave behind close friends and hospital staff in such difficult circumstances, with such mixed emotions. They have handled it brilliantly, and I have no doubt that their hard work, despite all the set backs due to this lethal and persistent virus, will pave the way for future volunteers and has supported the local staff.

Having said this, I know the hospital will be fine.

I know this because despite the immense challenges and difficulties there are some staff members who just refuse to be ground down. Instead they continue to work hard and change things for the better, small small. They have Gumption. 

This is a great word.  It always feels as though it has to be spoken with feeling, as though just by saying it you are making a statement. In The Holiday (hardly the Holy Grail of films, but one I love none the less) Alfred uses it to try and explain the extra something that some women just seem to have. 

My Kambian heroes, however, put a weeping Kate Winslet to shame. They don't have gumption just because they decided to stop crying over a man, it comes from somewhere much deeper than that. It has to, otherwise they would have given up long ago. 

I will talk about three such people who are just a few of some of the incredible characters I met during my time in Kambia. 

I have chosen them firstly because they are women. In a country where to be born a girl means you have often disappointed someone before even taking your first breath, they prove that being female is something to be proud of. A barrier to be beaten down not to change your path. Secondly all three of them regularly do their best to save lives and do so under ridiculous circumstances: low or no pay, continuous long days at work, separated from their families in other villages and often without even the most basic of equipment, such as gloves. Lastly they are leaders, shouting (literally) about problems that others ignore and giving colleagues the boost they need to keep plodding on. 

First up we have Memuna:

     

I am proud to say she became my friend. Working long hours on the female ward, even right up until the day she gave birth, Nurse Memuna has stamina and strength. She got fed up of waiting for facilities to be provided for hand washing, so to keep staff safer she raised the money herself. Nobody has a bad word to say about this kind and funny women. To top it off she volunteered to be one of the nurses who will care for patients with ebola if they need to be isolated in the hospital: Gumption.

Sallamatu also stepped up to the mark and volunteered to be an ebola nurse:   

She is very feisty and now in charge of male ward. Sallamatu would be able to stand up to any old school senior midwife or consultant who tried to reduce her to jelly. In fact it would probably be the other way around. She is teaching in the picture above, something she is very good at. If there is a problem she will not accept it quietly, and would rather lead a riot than settle for second best: Gumption.

Sister Sally:

   

On call 24 hours a day, midwife Sally stubbornly protects what she believes in, and passionately cares about all the women and babies that are in her care. Pop round for a visit to her home in the hospital, and in between looking after her children, the youngest of which she has adopted, she has a steady stream of community members and previous patients asking for her trusted advice. This women is extremely loyal and seems to have unlimited time for the things she is passionate about: Gumption.

The trouble is these incredible women need people coming up the ranks to join and eventually replace them. It is these local heroes that will bring about real change in the long term. When tuition fees to train to be a nurse are so expensive and unpredictable it can be very difficult for enthusiastic, talented,  hospital volunteers (effectively unpaid nurses) to take the next step and get the teaching they deserve and need to work effectively. There are no student loans for them.

This is why we have decided to support these five volunteers in their quest to become qualified nurses. All of them worked incredibly hard, for free, in the hospital, attending Kambia Appeal classes in their own time, competently running wards. They all made the effort to apply to the course. Surprisingly no easy feat due to the politics that surround the process like so many other things in Sierra Leone. They all have young children, often making the sacrifice to leave them with family so they can try and build a better and more secure future for them. Gumption.

It is going to cost up to £20,000 over three years to train them all, but I think that this is possible. It has to be - this training would ensure that Kambia gets new, appropriately trained staff to join the ranks, and would mean stability for the families of Isha, Yaka, Hawa, Francess and Isha.

One day I hope that some of them will rub off on me, but for now I, and other volunteers they inspired, are going to try and raise the money they need to change their world.

If you want to help and can spare some cash, please follow the link below.
www.bmycharity.com/SupportKambiaNurses