Dusty Road to Kabanga

When you're doing anything in Tanzania as mzungu, you're bound to get some attention - some wanted, some unwanted. Mostly - the attention I get is wanted, even (most of the time) when it comes to the repeated requests for saidiya (help) ... most of the time, I must repeat. Sometimes, it's annoying and exhausting at best.

In this one case, I didn't need to be asked. The babu or grandfather for one of my young friends, Saidi Sadiki, is named Saidi Mkete. He's such a cool old man - and I say that based on my observations of his behavior and others' reactions to his words. I barely understand him but I adore him as if he were my own grandfather and again, I barely know him. I think this is because there is something vulnerable and wise about him.

The vulnerability comes from his near blindness. His eyes have been bothering him a lot recently and he is progressively losing his sight. As the sight goes, it leaves him in great pain. I thought he was fully blind when I first met him because he's always sitting with his head in his hands - or his eyes resting on his knuckles. He's never without a cloth to wipe his eyes.
















Some days, I'd be sitting with the family - chatting with the youngsters or conversing with bibi (grandmother) through Lucas - and Babu would be sitting there silent or lying on the grass mat ... sleeping, I thought - until, without fail, at the right moment in the conversation he would pipe up and interject his opinion or make a comment that brought the others to laughter.



I asked about Babu one day - about his eyes - and I learned that he is in great pain. He explained that it feels like he has needles stabbing his eyes regularly and he cannot see out of one eye at all and only partially out of the other. The next time I visited was when Carter was here. I wanted to find out more about the eyes and see if there would be something we could do. Babu's son, Sadicki, explained more about previous trips to the hospital and medications that they had tried to no avail.

Finally, this week, I loaded Lucas, Saidi (my young friend's baba mdogo or uncle) and Babu into a dala dala and we headed to Kabanga to visit a doctor that was supposed to be brilliant with the eyes. Kabanga is past the dusty bustling town of Kasulu, which is about 2 hours from the village. It brought back yucky memories of my first trips to and from Kasulu on the dusty unpaved road - a road rutted by rain - cramped among several travelers that never complain about crappy seats, heat, dust or unnecessary stops. I have never smoked in my life, but in one trip to Kasulu on that dusty road, I believe I do as much damage to my lungs as I would if I smoked for a year straight.

We arrived to the hospital only to find that the doctor had gone to Mwanza for a couple of days. I was so disappointed as I had called the week before and told him I was coming. C'est la vie en Africa! So, Babu still saw the opthamologist's assistant who diagnosed him with something called Uvulitis - an infection in the eyes. She said it was very advanced and there was nothing that could be done.... She prescribed some medications and told us that the doctor would be coming to the hospital in Kigoma the following Monday - Sweet! Babu could make a much shorter trip the following week (without me) and be seen to by Dr. Kabadi - plus he already had a diagnosis and could just make sure there is nothing to be done ... Sometimes, you just have to go to know ... even if nothing can be done - at least you show you care and make the effort.

Before heading back to Kiganza, we went back to Kasulu for lunch and sat in silence together as we downed some beans, rice and warm milk followed by a desert of one banana each. After lunch, Babu lit up like a child. He was smiling and chatting away to his son, who was holding the old man's hand as he shuffled along - Babu was telling his son to tell me "Thank you so much. I feel so wonderful now. I was so hungry before, but now I am so full and happy. Thank you very much. Thank you for everything." Asante kushukuru. Nimefuraha sana. I wish I had video of Babu walking along, so happy, so delicate, so reliant on his son, so young at heart, so adorable!

I never thought of myself as an elderly person person, but after these weeks with Babu, I have felt a shift ... maybe it was inevitable and it comes with age. Either way, my parents can rest assured: 1) They will be adorable when they are in their 80s and 2) I will happily hold their hands as they shuffle alongside me.