World Malaria Day

April 25^th, 2012 was World Malaria Day (WMD). According to WHO 655,000 deaths in 2010 were a result of malaria. A majority of those deaths were children. A more updated statistic is that over 700, 000 deaths are caused by malaria every year. 90% of those deaths were children who never reached their 5^th birthday. In my host country Ghana, 1 in 15 children will be in that 90%. SWAT Malaria (Standing with Africa to Terminate Malaria), a Peace Corps Committee, had the goal to hold events in every region of Ghana for WMD. We had less than two weeks to organize and implement our activity.

Being in the village I couldn’t do much besides calling people to setup the venue, schedule and organize volunteers.  Jugaba immediately asked if he could come to the WMD event. I told him that I am finally going to be on the radio. I could see the excitement in his eyes. The way this boy loves music, how could I say no? I call him my Jukebox because he is always singing. When I explained to him what it was he said he would like to buy a Jukebox so he could listen to music and save his money inside. Yes Jugaba, the musical bank!

Jugaba and I before we go on the air.

When we finally got into the studio he was quiet and was only responding to our questions with a smile and a giggle.  We made him sit next to me close to the microphones.  After PCV Rachel and I finished our talk about malaria and promoted the event, the DJ at Radio Progress, Robert, began talking to Jugaba in Waale.  He was so taken aback that he was going to be on the radio that he paused and greeted, “Ansoma” too far away from the microphone for anyone to here. After some encouragement from all the PCVs in the room, Jugaba gained his voice and answered all the questions from Robert. What a memorable day for him.

Later that day we organized at the basketball courts outside the Ministries in Wa. We had a tent, speakers and DJ and a bed net to hang up. The bed net was the most difficult to assemble do to the strong wind blowing across the court. At around 3:45pm is when the music stopped and the education began. All the PCVs there were amazing and took part in different activities. Our main audience was a bunch of boys who lured in by all the nansalas (white people) playing basketball and dancing. The net never blew away, but had a couple close calls.

Demonstrating how to hang your LLIN outside.

Our translator educating about the myths of malaria.

Coach giving us a pep talk before the game.

After the education the Wa Unicorns (Yes this is a serious name of a basketball team composed of jacked tall African men) came because we challenged them in a game.  We had enough players to sub-in every couple of minutes. We were not used to this kind of physical activity.  Although they went easy on us, they beat us by only 6 points. We all had such a great time that we could be making the game an annual event. It is no wonder the Upper West Region has some of the closest friendships between volunteers; we love to get together and create something big.

Rainy season is beginning again. Which means that malaria cases will soon be increasing. Some new preventative measures Jeyiri has to protect themselves is long lasting insecticide treated nets (LLINs) and the community has be selected for Indoor Residual Spraying (IRS).  With the proper use of the nets combined with IRS in every house, Jeyiri should have a reduced malaria infection rate in humans and mosquito. A decreasing infection rate could cause for the eradication of the malaria sporozoan parasite in the female anopheles mosquito, thus eradicating malaria.  Between 1955 and 1978 most developed countries including America eradicated malaria, what is holding back Ghana? We have the tools and the knowledge, now is the time for the change.

Jeyiri woman proud to show me her new life saving LLIN.

Kayayo Mosquito Net Distribution in Kumasi

I would like to share with you an article from our latest Gender and Youth Development newsletter. The author is the notorious Zoe Sugg, the previous volunteer of Jeyiri.

The Strength of a Woman: A Story of Kayayo

By Zoe Sugg PCV

Looking into my friend’s bloodshot eyes I can see that she is tired. She wipes the sweat from her brow with a dirty rag, and smiles at me as she rolls the cloth and strategically places it on her head. She calls three other women over to help her lift an enormous sack of onions. I watch her bend down as they lift the sack and I see that she has lost weight; her shoulders, back and arms are rock-hard. Once the sack is positioned comfortably on her head she turns and says she is “going to come;” I take a seat on a bench. Onlookers gawk at me, surprised to see a white lady amongst the grit and grind. It is an area of Kumasi called Racecourse; it looks very much like a shanty ghetto, the structures all made from rotting plywood and scrap metal; the environment is hot and crowded, dirt paths snake between shacks as though pedestrians have been cautious not to step in muddy patches and filth. litter covers every square foot of the ground..“I’m going to market in Wa” – that is what she told me before she left and never came back. Six months passed until I heard her voice again.

Currently a third-year PCV in Cape Coast, I served my first two years in a small village in the Upper West Region. The three northern regions, in comparison with the rest Ghana, are predominantly underdeveloped and deeply influenced by Islam. Most of the population is illiterate and their main livelihood is suste- nance farming. Through the circum- stances of poverty, lack of education and various social obstacles the women of the north are at a great disadvantage. Many of the young girls are discouraged to attend school as it is seen to be a waste of family resources (females are con- sidered more useful on the farm). And education isn’t seen as a way to feed hungry bellies – it is a long-term investment that many homes cannot afford. It’s not uncommon for fami- lies to participate in the tradition of marrying off their young daughters to remove the stress of another mouth to feed in an already-impoverished household.

When it comes to work, there is a noticeable difference in the amount women are expected to complete daily versus men. Both attend farm and have various jobs to complete, but women are also given the tasks of firewood collection, caring for

the children and bringing back the harvest. It is a rare thing to see a

man fetching water, but a woman can walk upwards of 10k each day with heavy loads on their heads. All of this is done with grace – a look of ease, even as they carry a newborn baby on their back.

Without education or money to change their situations, the only es- cape for many is taking a chance on Kayayo (traveling for work as porters in Kumasi or Accra). Women who re- turn to the village from working in the south walk taller; they come back in new clothes, lobes sparking with shiny earrings; they can afford the things they need to make life better; they don’t have to ask any man for coins – they have a better sense of independence and confidence. But not all Kayayo stories are so successful. The mere facts of being

a woman and a stranger to a large city can result in a completely differ- ent lifestyle than what they are used to in the village. Most of the girls head to Kumasi with the intention of making some quick cash and going home, but city life can catch them like a predator. Vulnerable, they get trapped into prostitution, drugs, and theft; it isn’t until they arrive that they realize how difficult it is. Many girls sleep on the street and they are highly competitive – doing whatever it takes to make more money, more money! Young guys who stay in

the area hustle and scam to make a buck, usually they take a liking to one of the girls. Offering security by providing a place to sleep (in his metal shanty hut) it isn’t hard sell to a girl who is used to the safety of her compound. He’ll begin to make more demands of her; using his shack as bait, the young girls fall into a trap they can’t get out of.

When my friend returned from off-loading the sack of onions she was able to sit with me. I was wor- ried, I had so many questions – I’d heard so many different stories about Kayayo, but I wanted to hear her story. Tagging along, her older brother helped with the translation; her particular job site was the most competitive – they had regular pay and could go home with seven, sometimes eleven, cedis per day. It was an area of Racecourse filled with cattle trucks, brimming with yams and onions. She told me that many women coming to work for the day couldn’t finish the job; that it’s only for the very strong. Women on the street aren’t strong enough to carry from the big produce trucks, she said, sometimes they can’t carry at all – they beg; only posing as Kay- ayo. For women begging to carry personal luggage or empty a cargo truck near a store, the competition is very serious. They’re not guaranteed a single Ghana cedi a day; worse, they sabotage each other – hiding one another’s silver basins, they make it virtually impossible to carry loads.

My friend’s job was to off-load bulk produce and carry it to vehicles transporting it to buyers (restau- rants, chop bars, and market sell- ers). She was saving her money in a communal Susu box – every day she would take what was needed for food and the rest would be put into savings. Though the work was hard, her situation sounded ideal and I wanted to see where she was lived; I hoped she wasn’t secretly living on the street.

We walked through the makeshift ghetto and reached a very old (prob- ably condemned) structure. Outside of the abandoned warehouse naked kids were running around; some women came in and out of the bath- ing area, others perched over TZ coal pots. We entered a long room lined with suitcases – clothes dried on crisscrossed lines; prayer mats were propped or spread out; empty bowls lay everywhere. As I walked in women began to shout my local name – they were from my commu- nity – with true joy they rushed for- ward and hugged me, offering me a spot on their prayer mats and calling their new friends to meet me. I was bombarded by greetings. Many from my village asked to call their hus- bands or parents, some hadn’t been in contact for months; my phone was passed around and my credits finished in no time.

The warehouse was simply a trans- plant of village life; women had divided themselves by language and took turn babysitting and cook- ing – they created their own com- munity. As a custom of greeting, my friend came to bring me water; I sat with women hovering over me until the excitement died down. Soon

my friend was able to get back to her story; she’d seen girls leave the warehouse to move in with boy- friends, thinking they had made it big. Those who didn’t make enough during the day would try to make money at night; this I took to mean prostitution. She promised me she didn’t plan to do that; her goal was to save enough money to sustain her once she returned to the village. She considered herself a divorced woman, only thinking for herself and her children; she missed them ter- ribly. This took place about a year ago and my friend has since returned to Wa; she is no longer with her hus- band and is living a life independent of him. She took the money she earned and is now an apprentice at her aunt’s seamstress shop. Though her experience turned out well, not everyone is so lucky. Education in HIV prevention is important, but efforts also need to be put into helping safeguard these women in large and dangerous cit- ies; resources need to be invested in accommodating their transient sta- tus, instead of allowing them to be subjected to street life. Something as simple as open communication has the potential to go a long way in improving their lives; it’s only when they become isolated from their fam- ily and homes that they are truly in danger. The issue with Kayayo is not that women run off to Kumasi and end up in prostitution; it’s about women seeking independence through financial security. In a society that makes them feel inferior, incapable of bettering themselves, this is often their only choice. These women are courageous, driven, strong, and intelligent – they know they’re going into a hard life, but they weigh the risks versus the opportunies if they stay. The work these women do is vital – a good portion of the economy is carried on their heads – and un- less the financial and cultural situa- tion in the northern regions changes drastically, Kayayo is inevitable. What needs to happen now is the investment in keeping them safe.

Time Magazine

Stomp Out Malaria

These are the women I worked with for a week during the Long Lasting Insecticide Net (LLINs) distribution in Kumasi. This was a ProMPT-Ghana (Promoting Malaria Prevention and Treatment) initiative and funded by USAID.  Stomp out Malaria is the Peace Corps group supporting this program in which I am involved.

Previous to my arrival, PCVs along with Ghanaian volunteers went house to house and registered the Kayayo. Sleeping groups were given a ticket with a day, time and location to pick up their net.  My job was supervisor of Sylvester and Afia, Ghana nationals, from 8am-3pm at Roman Hill Street Children Project in Kumasi. Educational videos of malaria facts and care of the LLINs were shown and discussed with each group of Kayayo coming in.  The first day we quickly realized that our target group 1) couldn’t read the tickets, 2) were busy during the day, 3) didn’t believe they were going to get a free net, 4) generally didn’t trust the program. At Roman Hill tickets for 90 nets a day were handed out. In reality the distribution was about 30 nets a day.

A new plan was devised, a night distribution in the neighborhoods of the Kayayo. This would serve as an advertisement for the nets and encourage the people to come to the daytime locations.  I don’t know if the new strategy got more people to the distribution points. The first week was generally slow. The overall success of the project is hard to determine. We can only hope that the Kayayo are using the nets properly and consistently for their own health.

Jeyiri Happenings

Baby monkey at the chief's house...his mother was eaten.

Ace please open your eyes for the camera.

Master P. in his new bed.

Running through a cow herd on a run.

No Rain Does NOT Equal No Food

Recently I have come back from a dry season gardening IST in Tumu.  In the north of Ghana we go most of the year with zero rainfall aka dry season. This current dry season, which is just beginning, has been predicted to be very harsh.  The nutrition in Jeyiri is poor all year round. Imagine what it is like with no vegetables and fruit that you can afford.  Food security is an area that PCVs, like myself, are trying to improve.

Plan Ghana has constructed dams all over the north to increase the possibility for dry season gardening; however, the dams are under utilized. The system we installed was a gravity fed drip irrigation system, which uses water from the dam. No pump or electrical equipment is needed to run the system. Also a drip system uses the water the most conservatively.

I had a wonderful time out on the land getting the land ready for planting.  The future may hold a place for a similar but smaller system at my school. Enjoy the pictures!  

David the PCV organizer and leader

A dry season garden already growing beautifully   

Our drip lines (600 meters total)

Our water source

Another Day, Another Story

It is the people of Ghana that bring a smile to my face.  My evening runs through the yam farms always give me a revitalized perspective of my purpose here. It could be the elder man who hands me some giant yams and says we really love you. Earlier that day I had a meeting with my counterpart and leaders of all the sides of Jeyiri about future projects.  PCV Ryan Dunn is a Natural Resources Volunteer and we are going to be forming a farming group to organize monthly workshops on sustainable farming practices. The man with the yams is very excited.

It could also be the men pounding kapala in a hollowed out tree that invite me to join in on their meal before I turn around and run home.   The young men who catch bush meat with a slingshot and their dogs are so proud to show me their prize of squirrel and mouse and also invite me to eat with them. The children are out on the farm too. The small girls giggle continuously as they pass a headphone from my ipod between them and listen to the American music sent from my loving family and friends at home. 

Once three young boys ran back with me. They were already tired and covered in dirt, but they wanted to do as An la Mwine does.  One had broken his sandal and was running with one on foot and the other in hand. The second was just trying to run next to me. We fought for space on the small bush path. The last had a machete in hand. It made me laugh to think in America mothers always say don’t run with knives and here it is perfectly acceptable to run with machetes. It was a very Peace Corps moment that I will never forget.

Bush path as the sun sets

I know this year will be full or hard work and more inspiring stories. I am excited to keep you all updated on the achievements of Jeyiri.

Some of Tao's Pictures

I'm so proud of my kitchen!

Actually I took this one on a walk

XPRESS Camp

My friend Helen, a VSO worker in Ghana from 1999-2001, once told me you need to live in a place for 6 months to finally feel like the place is your home. This December I have reached that mark. This friend of mine sure has some wisdom. Let me tell you what has been going on that now I feel like I know my place in Ghana.

Kimmy Smith (Naama) my neighboring PCV in Kolpong organized a youth development camp focused on service learning and volunteerism. I had the authority to choose three young people to attend this 5 day camp in Wa. The selection process was based on an interview I held with students who wanted to attend. I already had an idea of whom I was going to take, but it was important to make the selection formal and professional to reduce the jealousy of those who did not get chosen. I had 5 boys from the Jeyiri Junior High School show up. I graded the students based on English proficiency, intent, understanding of the camp and potential to be a community leader.  One of the students who I really wanted to take did not show up because it was market day. I went to his house last night and told him I was disappointed he did not come because I see a lot of potential in him. I continued to explain my dilemma: teach him a life lesson, or think of the benefits of Jeyiri this young man could provide if he had an opportunity to attend the camp.  My heart and mind was on the improvement of Jeyiri so I invited him. The teachers and head master at the school approved my selections. Yusif (Jugaba), Haruna and Saliah were going to go to Wa.

The Gender and Youth Development group was in charge of the camp. So all the PCVs who have been in Ghana for a year were leading all the programs and did most of the work. I enjoyed being in the background, seeing how camps run and help out where needed.  There were 45 campers ranging from 12 to 25 years old. They learned how to do a service project, how to be a volunteer and why it’s important.  We talked about problems in our communities and what they wanted to be when they grew up. There was one program where the boys and girls split up to discuss health issues like sex, puberty and menstruation. A motivating guest speaker attended. There was a talent show where the PCVs did the thriller dance. Lastly it would not be a camp without skits and art crafts. The campers were busy from 8am- 9pm everyday. Trust me they learned A LOT.

Making masks 

One afternoon was spent doing a clean up Wa Market service project. Brooms, trash pickers, gloves and masks were all donated for the event.  Each PCV had 5 campers to watch over in the market. I was in the first group to enter. I was talking to a woman and asking her why are we cleaning, what is so vital about picking rubbish up in the community.  Well this conversation took a startling turn when she told me that we should get someone to clean up the dead man 2 meters from where I am standing. WHAT?!? WHERE?!? Ohhh She must be referring to the cloth, sticks and wooden crates that are covering the dead body there.  Apparently this mentally unstable older man died that morning and was still lying in the spot he fell. The police have to do some paperwork before they can come pick it up. Of course we did not know at that point that the police had already been called. One of the campers gathered us all together to say, “Since we are volunteers we need to clean this place, let’s call the police ourselves and make the report.” Awww he has learned so much at this camp, but what is the number to call the police? 911 won’t work here. After standing around a bit the police in a pickup truck came to remove the body. Mind you market is still happening and people are walking around the covered body. However, now a crowd is forming. Two Dutch women walk inches next to the body as the police start removing the crates. I call them over and ask, “Do you realize that you practically just walked over a dead body?” They were quite surprised. They stood next to my students and I was the removed the clothes to reveal the half dressed old man. The mother of the Dutch women said, “Are you sure he’s dead? He doesn’t look dead.” The police took some pictures then lifted the stiff body into a body bag and drove away. All was left was the crowd and a cloth with some bodily fluids on it. Several women began to tell the campers to pick it up. Of course they were frightened and said no.  After some discussion we decided for the health of the community we should pick it up. I then took the bag to throw away when I ran into some PCVs and told them the story and they took the bag from me to dispose of.

Ryan and Ruth cleaning up Wa Market

Ok body gone, shows over, let’s start cleaning again! We were out from about 1pm-4pm. To get the point across on the importance of a clean environment I would tell people, “A dirty environment leads to diseases like malaria, cholera and diarrhea. Did you not just see the dead body here? Did he not die in this dirty place? What happens to you if you live here?” All and all it was a success of a service project. Even after the camp my students organized a clean up Jeyiri day.

When the students came home they were proud to tell the school, chief, landlord and elders EVERYTHING they learned. I am so proud of them for their cooperation, leadership and attentiveness they gave this XPRESS camp. Now I now I can rely on them with anything I want to do. They are taking the responsibility of community volunteer very seriously and I know they will always remember this camp. Small change has occurred in them. Now I know I’m in the right place. My purpose in Jeyiri has become more evident.