Blog 31: The beat goes on

The kids all love music, and so do I. As usual I have brought my saxophone and I have been blessed on this trip with a gifted drummer, a boy called Thapelo. He is one of a gang of kids who like to hang out in the physio room and was there when I was trying to sort out the battered collection of musical instruments that I have manage to accumulate. Amazingly the tambourine is still in one piece, but the Irish drum (bodhran) has a hole in it from Lesojane's exuberant banging. Its easily sorted with some gaffer tape, although several other wounded instruments are beyond repair. The drum sticks are all still here and some of the shakers, and I improvise with various containers, bottles, tins and gravel, to make a larger rhythm section.   

Thapelo immediately picks up the bodhran and tambourine and places them against the blue plastic box to make himself a drum kit. He instinctively starts a contagious beat and we are off. I can’t think what possessed me, but for some reason I have brought four recorders to help restock the instrument pile. These are grabbed by the kids drawn into the room by the music, who blow them as loud as they can and out of time with the beat. It’s a terrible racket and I stop them several times and try to get them to blow gently and listen to the drummer, however as soon as we start again chaos resumes. 

They are having a great time but in the end for the sake of my sanity, I decide we shall be a recorderless band and to just try and concentrate on the beat. Everyone grabs a piece of physio equipment and bashes it with their hand or a stick. Malineo has brought in an old plastic storage container to use as a large drum, some kids hit the table, some hit the floor, some clap and Thapelo holds it all together with his homemade drum kit. It sounds pretty good in parts and we play for about an hour before I shoo all the interlopers out and have a physio session on the gym mats for the sensational six, except Tsilensang, who is in his standing frame.

Its been a high energy morning and in the afternoon I wilt a little and look around me. There are kids and toys everywhere, one kid is having a pee in a bucket, one care mother is asleep sprawled across the beds, one is stripped off in the corner washing herself. There’s a pile of building materials and tools stacked in one corner, which the builders need access to along with their food and drink. Another corner is stacked with bedding and clothes, while physio equipment,  tables and chairs line the rest of the walls.

When I step back and look at everything happening it can sometimes seem a little bonkers, but the physio room is the kids home, so the daily business of life continues all around us. Anyway, physio is not a separate business here, it needs to be as functional as possible and part of everything the kids do.

The kids go home in five days’ time, I need to keep going and cram in as much as possible before they leave. Now there is added pressure as I have decided to do a small presentation for the builders and get the kids to do some music, what was I thinking? Most of the kids struggle to hold anything in their hands and apart from Tokiso they all have speech problems and therefore find singing difficult.

I rally some more troops, some of the kids that push the wheelchairs and assorted house mothers. One amazing thing that happens here is that when people start to sing they naturally harmonise and produce the most beautiful sound, without even trying. However, I still need to do a rehearsal as I can’t really expect anybody to perform without even knowing the songs we are doing.

Tuesday’s rehearsal suffered a setback after the invasion of the babies. I arrived at the physio house to find two dozen over excited toddlers cannibalising the toys. I don’t know why they are here or where they are from, I just have to roll with it. With a tin roof and no ceiling, the noise is incredible. Poor Kolosoa arrived back from school feeling ill and had to tolerate a baby continually bashing him over the head with a cardboard tube extracted from the building rubbish.

On the other hand, Kananelo had the time of his life sitting in his special seat on the floor, desperate to join in, although with his body wracked by spasms and uncontrolled movement all he can do is wave his arms around excitedly. The babies looked at him a little confused, then just carried on creating mayhem. In the end I decided to outgun them with my sax. A stunned silence followed for the next 5 minutes, then I stopped, and the baby chaos resumed. At last they went to lunch and thankfully did not return.

As the week goes on the building activity reaches frenetic levels as time runs out. Despite their incredible work rate there is so much to be done to put a building up in ten days; walls roof, interior, electrics, insulation, cladding, toilet, plumbing, floor, ramps. Its built to a high spec and on top of everything trying to track down the materials needed has been a bit of a nightmare.   

Richard has been totally heroic in his efforts sourcing materials and driving the project forward. He’s nearly seventy and has the stamina  of a guy twenty years younger, although he did admit to me today at one point his legs went from under him and he couldn’t get off the floor. Like everyone he was covered in fine red dirt from the dust storms that hit today. Half blinded from the powdered dirt blowing around us, burnt from the unremitting sun over the last week, these guys have been an unstoppable force, I take my hat off to them. 

Richard leaves on Wednesday morning and Paul continues to drive the pace. Another unsung hero, I know he has done a lot of fund raising to make this all happen. Like the rest of the team he has funded himself to come over here and to work like a horse every day. No time off and sightseeing for these guys, so when Wednesday afternoon comes, and its presentation time, I want to pull everything out of the bag. I give a speech and get all tearful, which I find rather frustrating, but I manage to stagger to the end. Here’s how it should have sounded … 

   

A warm welcome to everyone that has joined us here today. We asked you to come to a small gathering to say thank you for the collaboration between Africa’s Gift and the Pemberton Lions for building the extension to the physiotherapy house and being part of the journey of physiotherapy at Phelisanong.

None of this journey would have been possible without the support and vision of Mme Mamello and her belief in the benefits that physiotherapy gives disabled children. It is recognised by UNICEF that “Children with disabilities are one of the most marginalized and excluded groups in society. Facing daily discrimination in the form of negative attitudes, lack of adequate policies and legislation, they are effectively barred from realizing their rights to healthcare, education, and even survival.“

A child’s disability is not only determined by their impairment and function but by the environment and context they live in. Here at Phelisanong great progress has been made in improving the environment that disabled children live in. There is a complete circular path at the centre which gives the children using wheelchairs and walking frames access to the school and houses. There is a community hall where they all can eat together and be part of an inclusive society and now there is a now a physiotherapy room and equipment to help them exercise and stay mobile.

I believe that Phelisanong is showing the rest of Lesotho what an inclusive society should be like and I am proud that the physiotherapy team is part of that. I would like to thank Mme Mamello for her support and vision, Malineo for all her support and help with the physiotherapy over the last two years and for Mamothonyana for joining us these last two weeks and working with the children.    

Three years ago, the physiotherapy room was a bare space in the corner of a hut with no equipment. Now we have this room and all the equipment and the beautiful extension that you have built for the children to sleep in. Your building is going to make their lives so much more comfortable and help them achieve even more with their physiotherapy. Thank you for making such a wonderful space for them and all your care and kindness during your time here.

On behalf of the Physiotherapy team at Phelisanong and the children I would like to thank Africa’s Gift and the Pemberton Lions for all your hard work, time and funding to build the extension to the physiotherapy house. We have seen you out there every day in the hot sun and wonder how you managed to carry on. We are amazed that nobody fell off the roof, got sunstroke or cut their fingers off. We are also pleased to see some feisty ladies’ builders in your crew putting in a hard day’s graft.

Please can Paul step up as a representative of your group and accept a physiotherapy polo shirt on behalf of everyone. The logo on the shirt is the same as we wear in the paediatric service and 14 + service I work for in Wales, except instead of being in Welsh and English, it is in English and Sesotho. It simply says “physiotherapy team” in both languages. 

Thank you, Africa’s Gift and Pemberton lions, for being part of the physiotherapy team at Phelisanong, and making a difference to the lives of disabled children here. Thank you for being part of the community and we hope you will come again soon

Thank you, Kealeboha, Thank you very much

After that we break into a few short songs and Thapelo holds it all together with his superb drumming. My goodness this boy is talented ! Mamello gives a speech, and is even more emotional than me, and then I offer the builders some brightly coloured food snacks and sugary drinks. Wisely most steer clear, and as soon as they leave the children cram as many snacks into their mouths as they can and get high on a sugar rush .

Malineo and Mamothonyana have to go to a meeting and I am left alone with the children  and the fall out from the party. The heat of the day has gone, and I take the children to outside to sit on a rug while I brush up the crumbs and crushed food from the floor. I can hear them laughing and teasing each other as I work. The shadows lengthen, and the world seems a beautiful place. 

The following day relatives arrive to take the children home. I speak to the parents about their children’s progress and a father asks the dreaded question “Will he get better?”. I look at his son and try to think what to say. I want to hold out hope for him, without making false promises. This boy was born without any problems but after he had an operation to remove a foreign body from his ear in 2011 he was left unable to talk or walk. Now he can say a few words and walk with the assistance of one but its been very slow progress.

I tell the father he must stimulate his sons mind and body as much as possible and while he is still growing there is a chance for him to further improve. I’m not sure the father is satisfied with my answer and I move on to field a similar question from another parent wishing I had a magic wand. By the end of the afternoon most of the children have gone and the builders are ready to knock through the wall to join the two physiotherapy rooms together.

Maboleka,  the Lesotho builder, attacks the wall with a grinder and disappears in a dust cloud, before Paul takes a lump hammer to it. There is a glorious clatter of tumbling concrete and pictures all round as we jump between the gap between the two rooms. Afterwards we adjourn to the guest house where I am treated to a wonderful shower and meal.

In the morning the Canadians leave for Joburg to catch their flights home. Paul has paid Maboleka and John for the next few days to make good the ramp and connection between the two rooms and left them the tools to do it. After that I have some funds to pay Maboleka for some of the jobs I want doing before I go back to Maseru at the end of next week.

Malineo and I wipe the dust from the equipment and stack it out the way, the children won’t be back until January but the work continues. The last two weeks have been a kaleidoscope of dazzling images; sunshine, dust, Canadian accents, the noise of drills, hammers, drums, recorders, my saxophone, singing, laughter, and at the heart of it children who are defined by their spirit, not their disability.