The African Child.
As Ngọzi, in the company of her friends, drew closer to her father's compound, the jubilations coming from their front yard interrupted their chitchat; She had been sent by her Maternal grandmother to fetch water immediately she returned from school, from 'Ògénê' the village stream located a few kilometres from their home. She tried to no avail to peep through the fence craftily made using bamboo sticks and dry Palm fronds. She bade her friends bye and rushed towards the entrance of their house to discover that the front yard of their compound was filled with neighbors, mostly women and children dancing and singing. It then occurred to her that her mother had finally put to bed. She went to the backyard to drop the water pot and dashed into her mother's hut to behold her 'little brother', and God answered her prayers, it was a boy! He was named 'EkenediliChukwu' which means Thanks be to God, because of how long it took the couple to get another child after Ngọzi. They had almost lost hope after about 12 years of trials, with 3 miscarriages.
Ekene's birth was a turning point for every member of Mazi Okoro's household, Mama Ngọzi whose position was under enormous threat for years before she finally bore a male child automatically became Mama Ekene, Her joy knew no bounds as all who encountered her afterwards were 'infected'. This made her petty business at Nkwo Amandugba (the village market) to flourish. Papa Ekene regained his voice in 'nzukọ Ụmụnna' (Kindred meeting), after years of humiliation and intimidation by his own brothers, the yield from his farm grew significantly that dealers from the neighboring communities came to patronize him. Ngọzi was supposed to be happier but the realization that With Ekene came more responsilities like increase in the number of times she goes to the Stream, more dishes to do, she wished she could turn the hands of time.
Ekene grew so fast that at eleven months, he could could walk with her sister's support. At about the age of three, he was enrolled in 'Ọta-akara', as Nursery schools were colloquially known. Every morning, while Ngọzi walks with her friends to the only government secondary in their community, she takes Ekene to school before heading to the market. The sight of older pupils passing through the market on their way home, usually served as her alarm to go pick Ekene from school.
One fateful afternoon, she left her shop under the supervision of her neighbor at the market to go get her son, on reaching there, she saw him shivering on mat where he had been lying all day. The teacher, told her that he started having fever just before noon which has failed to stop even after the cold bath and paracetamol he was given. She took him home immediately and tried to feed him but he refused to take anything, even the ones he managed to take, he vomited almost immediately; He was still shivering. Out of anxiety, she rushed to the backyard to cry for help as her husband had not returned from the farm since morning. One of her neighbors, Oriaku Ezeude, an older woman quickly ran to their house to find out what was wrong. When she saw him, she calmed her down and reassured her that he'd be alright. She went ahead to ask if they had 'dogo yaro' but mama Ekene said No. She went back to her house to return with a bowl of some herbal extracts popularly known as 'Dogo yaro', usually given to people with fever; they jointly forced some down Ekene's gullet. Before she left, she advised mama Ekene to give him another bath and put him to sleep. By the time Papa Ekene returned from the farm, the fever had stopped, she told him of the incident while serving him food. He went immediately after his meal to thank Oriaku Ezeude for saving his son's life in his absence.
The fever returned the next day around midnight and this time, more severe and dangerous with episodes of convulsions. His palm and sole were literally white; His incessant cries was enough to disturb the entire neighborhood. Few concerned neighbors, including Oriaku Ezeude, gathered in the compound to find out what was happening again in Mazi Okolo's home. One of them recommended that the boy be given his own urine to drink, claiming that it was what she had been doing whenever any of her children had convulsions. Mazi Okolo had no choice, all he wanted was for his son to get better. When the boy finally fell asleep, everyone retired for the night.
Joy comes in the morning became a fallacy in Mazi Okolo's household the next morning, when all efforts to wake Ekene was proved abortive. Their joy was short-lived and their blessing has been taken away from them.
This is a typical story of many families in Africa! As you read this, know that an under-5 child is 60 times more likely to die in Sub-Saharan Africa than in the western world, with majority of the deaths due to malaria, pneumonia, malnutrition, diarrhea and other preventable diseases. There has been commendable improvements in the statistics over the years but it is so sad that these advancements like vaccines for immunization, essential drugs etc, are all funded by foreign governments and agencies. One may be tempted to ask what our indigenous governments are doing to tackle these problems.
The children's day celebration calls for renewed efforts towards providing the African child with food, shelter, clean water supply, quality health care, basic education and most importantly Hope to a better life here on earth. It calls for combined efforts from the government and individuals towards the maximization of the potentials of the African child. My part I will play!