July 13, 2004

Friends,

It is 7:30 a.m. on a sunny clear day in Mulanje. I hear the voices of many children singing enthusiastically from the church across the way from my house. I saw them running from the school to the church this morning, singing as they ran. This is a bright reminder to me of God’s grace on a day when I feel dismally burdened by the sin of this world.

The day after I arrived in Malawi I went to the Nurses and Midwives Council of Malawi with my original diplomas, my nursing licenses, my $200 in kwachas, and I paid my dues. I was told I would be assigned an orientation. Almost five months later and various phone calls, letters, and a visit by PC(USA) missionary Frank Dimmock to the Nurses Council, I haven’t been assigned an orientation. Instead, yesterday, Dr. Sue Makin, Dr. Hans Rode (director of Mulanje Mission Hospital) and I received an accusatory letter forbidding me to practice or legal action would be taken. Dr. Rode’s letter was hand-carried to him. Yesterday, Sue and I also received an emailed article from the New York Times (“In Africa, an Exodus of Nurses,” by Celia W. Dugger) about the nursing shortage in Malawi and Africa, and how the healthcare system is failing because of the emigration of nurses to other countries to obtain much higher pay. Antiretrovirals are finally becoming available to this country, where at least 15 percent of the population is living with HIV/AIDs, but more nurses will be lost to private institutions and death from HIV/AIDS as well as jobs in the United Kingdom and other countries. The prospect of adequate healthcare for patients is bleak.

At the moment, I am listening to the children say the Lord’s Prayer in Chichewa and the faint voices of staff members singing a hymn from the hospital. One day last week when I was designated to give the morning prayer at the hospital and the woman next to me who was designated to choose the hymn was having trouble selecting one, I turned to her and started singing, “Amazing Grace.” She recognized the tune and found this hymn for us to sing in Chichewa. I think of the woman we often see at the market in Bvumbwe, who carries a smiling toddler named “Irene” on her back, and when we buy her vegetables, she beams at us and exclaims, “Prize!” and gives us extra vegetables. She laughed one evening as Sue sang, “Good Night Irene” to her child. I think of the children I see when I walk through the tea, who, instead of asking for money, ask for “Hug-ee” and then giggle and run when I offer one. I remember that the kingdom of God is always at hand.

Please pray for me.

Charlotte