There are many images that will haunt me when I leave Niger. The groups of children roaming the streets holding bowls, begging for left-over food; the sheer numbers of those blinded by Rubella or paralysed by Polio, diseases that are preventable with a cheap and simple vaccination; and of course the faces of many of the children that died in the hospital despite our efforts.
As I reread the above paragraph I realise I probably sound tired, or guilty, or in need of another holiday. It’s clear that the constant awareness of suffering can leave us feeling emotionally exhausted. Yet I don’t feel that I should have done more. Of course there is always more we can do, but we strive to find this sacred balance between seeking happiness for ourselves, and trying to help others to do so (and of course the two are not mutually exclusive). And guilt? I think it’s okay to feel a bit guilty – we feel guilty because we are living, sentimental beings, and we can’t abide the idea of other beings suffering while we are living comfortably.
Paradoxically this guilt allows us to live better, to be happier. Just as we feel guilty as we observe the injustice around us, we feel liberated and lucky to be free (relatively) of suffering. Guilt can quickly metamorphose into celebration of our health, our liberty and our autonomy.
In my mind’s eye I see those images of hardship metamorphosing into more light-hearted views of this exuberant country, a few of which can be seen below. The beautiful Hausa architecture; the huge, life affirming Baobab trees; the children who get better and their mothers who dance with joy when you agree that their baby is ready to go home. I think I’ll leave here feeling lucky, and happy, and a bit guilty, but also a bit proud that I have done a good job.
Just wanted to say how much i have enjoyed reading your posts over the last few months.
I’ve been avidly reading you blog and so it’s a shame we won’t be learning any more about cats and snakes and the dance des fesses and the epic struggle you guys are waging against malnutrition – but on the other hand, I guess you’ve been working yourself to the bone and so better to get out before you burn out. I’m sure you can be proud of what you’ve done and I know you should be proud of this blog.
Very nice to hear stories from the field, thanks. Also good photo’s
Hi Kiran,
I was thrilled to read your story as I did not expect at all to get to know your activity. Perhaps you may not remember me as we met very breifly togehter with sandra in Zanzibar and Nairobi during our evacuation from somalia in 2008.
It is not yet to feel guilty by yourself! How can you continue your good deeds in the future without having a healthy energy and strength!
Enjoy ur break!
Kiran,
The first paragraph sounds like powerlessness with a mixture of guilt. In India I was overwhelmed with the sense of poverty and felt guilty also.
To me it is perhaps more important to have tried to change the world in some way, rather than how we changed it. You couldn’t transform a country, but you transformed lives as a result and objectively the people you helped with measure that more accurately than perhaps you can.
Time is the most precious thing we have after health, the fact you give up time to help others is enough within itself.
D