The Bits I Leave Out.

Someone mentioned to me recently that I tend to focus on the positive and that this blog is mainly about the triumphs and successes we've had and may not reflect the reality of how hard it can be. They meant hard as in hard for me, it was a compliment, not a criticism, but it got me thinking that maybe I'm not truly representing how hard life is for my kids.

 I talked about how great medical camp was, but not how every single day we have to treat kids with huge open wounds that at home would warrant a visit to ER, like the girl whose leg is infested with maggots because her mother refuses any treatment other than her own remedy of boiling water, or the little boy whose skull was rotting under his scalp, or the kids who show up late to class and sleep all day because they have malaria and thats no reason to miss school. I talked about how smart and energetic and funny the kids are, but I didn't mention how thin they are, how they fall asleep in class from sheer hunger and exhaustion, how they come from homes where the oldest girl sacrifices her education to care for her orphaned siblings and the oldest boy to find work to feed them.
I never mentioned the drought thats all over the news back home because honestly, I didn't know til I read it online. No one talks about it here because its not news here. Drought is a fact of life: millions of people will suffer and die, money will be pumped in to save a few and the West will feel satisfied and find a new cause. People here don't care that people are starving in Somalia, they're too busy trying not to starve themselves.
I blogged about the nightlife and how much I love dancing over here, but I left out the bit about the rake-thin prostitutes grinding themselves against elderly white men who smirk proudly at them, smug in the knowledge that their work colleagues and grandchildren will never know. I left out the bit about the girls in my Standard 5 class who get paid to "go to discos" and the knowing questions they asked during sex ed class.
I leave these bits out because they're images of the only Africa people ever see: famine, poverty, rape, genocide, AIDS, misery death. I wanted to show people the Africa I found: laughing, smiling, spiritual people who welcome strangers and give you the last of their food without a moments hesitation; bright, funny kids who burst with creativity. But I've done them a disservice. What makes their positivity and strength so incredible is the fact that it exists alongside the other Africa. They live with the realities of life and death every day and rather than being broken and resigned they live their lives gracefully and share what they can. I'm not trying to wax lyrical or idealise suffering: its all relative, their problems are normal to them and we're the ones living a life unimaginable. I just want to make sure I don't paint a rose-tinted view of the happy, smiling African. The Africa we see on tv is real, but it's not the only one. If you want to know about Africa, come and see for yourself.