Wordless Weekday!

Mamodu Mattia

Mamodu Mattia

Mamodu Mattia is a teenager with an amazing smile, but you would not see it if you passed him on the street. He covers his front teeth with his lower lip, trying to hide the fact that he has a cleft lip – anything to keep the attention away from his mouth. His brother, Mohammad Mattia, stands watch over him, trying to protect him from harm.

The last time Mamodu and Mohammad’s family needed a doctor was three years ago when their mother was going through a difficult labor. She died, and the baby died several hours later. Sadly, their father was killed on the same day in a farming accident when a tree fell on him. Mamodu was only 14 when these tragedies struck.

Their extended family refused to take care of Mamodu for fear of any curses associated with his cleft lip. They felt his parents’ death was Mamodu’s fault. The brothers’ situation was made even worse by the fact that Mamodu is deaf and has no training in sign language. How could he take care of himself when he could not communicate with anyone?

So Mohammad left their extended family to take care of his brother. They have been on their own ever since, trying to make a way for themselves.

Before his parents died, Mamodu attended school. He loved school, but, after his parents’ death, he could no longer afford it. Mohammad worked tirelessly in the fields trying to save enough money to send Mamodu to school, but there was never enough. When Mohammad realized that Mamodu was too old for school, he taught his brother how to farm so they could work together. This helped Mohammad keep an eye on Mamodu at all times. Their extended family and other villagers were always mean to Mamodu, and the fact that he couldn’t hear them made him an easy prey.

A man named Abu Yeva changed everything for the two brothers. He told them about a medical screening conducted by Mercy Ships. It seemed too good to be true, and Mohammad was afraid to allow himself to hope. He did not know how much his brother understood, but he could already envision an easier, better life on the horizon. After receiving an appointment, they traveled for five hours to the ship. They were filled with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

When it came time for the nurses to take blood samples from Mamodu, Mohammad instinctively stood guard over his brother. He was still unsure of what they were going to do to Mamodu. He had years of experience protecting his brother from the cruelty of this world, but now Mercy Ships was treating him with such care and kindness. As their time with Mercy Ships continued, both brothers’ spirits started to lift, and they began to trust the help offered to them.

On their last day on the Africa Mercy, Mamodu was found looking in the mirror, admiring his new face. Mohammad was playing games with children on the ward.

Now both brothers are filled with more joy than they have known in years, as evidenced by their constant smiles. As Mohammad holds a child from the hospital, he says, “If it weren’t for Abu Yeva and Mercy Ships, Mamodu would not have been helped. I am so happy for my brother! Thank you Mercy Ships!”

December 2011
Story by Nicole Pribbernow
Edited by Nancy Predaina
Photos by Debra Bell

Mamodu and Mohammad wait anxiously to begin the admissions process.

Mohammad watches over Mamodu as blood samples are taken.

Mamodu and Mohammad are still unsure about the surgery.

Mamodu takes the first steps onto the gangway while Mohammad stands back apprehensively.

 
Mamodu is curious about what the nurse is doing to him.

Ever-vigilant Mohammad watches carefully as Mamodu finishes admissions.

Mamodu’s stitches come out!

 
After the stitches are removed, Mamodu and Mohammad see the amazing transformation for the first time.

Mamodu and Mohammad admire Mamodu’s new reflection.

Mamodu takes one last look at the ward  before he is discharged.

Mamodu and Mohammad final walk down the gangway with spirits lifted high.

  
Mamodu and Mohammad leave for home one week after their lives were transformed.

This is a Drill! This is a Drill! This is a Drill!

Safety is always first, right? Well don’t worry because that is our motto on the Africa Mercy! We recently conducted several fire drills. Where these drills are apart of our normal schedule here on the ship, these were “at sea” drills that included donning our lifejackets and preparing to abandon ship! It sounds more exciting than it actually is, but I assure you, it is very crucial to the crew to know what to do “in case.” Thankfully, we did not have to use this knowledge during our recent sail to Ghana, and now we are back to conducting “on land” fire drills. These on land drills will sure help me! In Ghana, our gangway is on the opposite side of the ship! Just my luck, I would try exit the ship ON THE WRONG SIDE!



I have a lifejacket! With a whistle and light ;)



How do you say goodbye?

How do you say goodbye to someone who has changed your life? How do you say goodbye to someone who has given you joy? How do you say goodbye to a people group who has molded your heart into a more beautiful object to give to your Lord? How…how do I say goodbye to Sierra Leone?
In my 6 weeks of being molded and shaped into a new creation, I’ve grown to love Sierra Leone more fiercely than I ever imagined. I stare at her, and she stares back into me…straight into my soul: knowing who I was and knowing who I have become. She sees the change that has overcome me, and when we pull away she will wave with stoic presence while I cry for the loss of my first African love: the people of Sierra Leone.

We are packing and tying everything down in preparations for the sail. “Soon,” they say, “we leave soon.” The surreal atmosphere of a half empty ship only makes me long to stay. I feel cheated, cheated out of time with Sierra Leone. I just got here, and we are leaving. I think of my family who adopted me and taught me Krio. I think of the girl who cleaned me when I was dirty and tired. I think of the village that changed its circumstances to prove they can overcome. The patient whose life was transformed in front of me from outcast demon to freed handsome young man. The list doesn’t end as faces and memories flash through my mind. I will miss each of them and pray that God will bless them for how they have blessed me.

My goodbyes are said, and I sit on the ship waiting to leave. I wait to leave, and we don’t even know when we will go. So I stare at her from another world, through longing eyes, wanting to care for her and help her. Sierra Leone, she has captivated me and her struggle has motivated me. I hope one day I will return to Sierra Leone, but for now, I move along the coast to new places with their own powerful hold on my heart. But I wonder if I will love any country as much as I love Sierra Leone.

I leave for Ghana soon: a country more developed and making progress. The ship will be receiving maintenance during this time, and I will find myself at a loss of what I have found normal. No patients, no writing, and no village visits. I pray that this time will be renewing of strength and energy. Togo will become busy as soon as we hit the docks and I will find myself as the “experienced” one training the new writer coming aboard January 1, 2012. I pray that God will renew me in the next 4 weeks so that I can give more than I have to offer in Togo because God’s wisdom will guide me through each day.
Goodbye Sierra Leone! God Bless and I hope to see you again soon!