I Survived Data Collection!

We finished data collection today! I’m feeling a mixture of relief and intimidation at this point. I’m relieved because I survived the past four days of getting up before 6 AM, walking excessive distances with a huge backpack for nine hours in the blistering sun and sand through prickly “wait-a-minute” bushes to administer questionnaires to Maasai Mamas. These “wait-a-minute” bushes have huge thorns that capture you from all angles and you have to wait-a-minute before separating yourself from the bush (or taking your clothes off because the bush won’t let go). Many of these Mamas were unbelievably welcoming, kind and generous; they left incredible impressions on me. On the other hand, I’m feeling intimidated because we have so much work to do before next week’s presentation. To create a presentation to the community in one week that gives justice to all I have seen, learned and experienced is near impossible. But beyond that, many of these women have given me a quest to share their stories and bring them change and I don’t want to let them down, but I don’t even know where to begin helping them.

Today, we began with the most difficult interview I have completed. Upon entering the Boma, a very old father-in-law greeted us. From the get-go, I felt very uncomfortable around him and could tell that he was resentful of my status as a white Western woman. I was waiting for some comment or problem to arise about it. Maasai men will greet me as they would a man, simply because I am white. It’s a bit uncomfortable because many of the men clearly dislike it, but are somewhat forced into it when I go to shake their hands instead of bowing my head. When he gave us permission to enter, we went to the first house where several Mamas were sitting. They immediately began to give my translator, Daniel problems about why, as a Maasai man he works bringing mzungus around to different Maasai bomas, only for the mzungus to bring the information back to America and never change anything. Eventually they agreed to be interviewed, but before we began they said “Don’t ask any questions about sex, it is not good here.” The last thing we want is any of the Mamas to be in physical danger from talking to us, so we certainly took that to heart and filtered the questions in the gender roles section. When we finished the survey, the Mama said that she wanted to ask me some questions. She began by asking about family planning. One of our questions is “Do you know about family planning- if so, which ones do you know/use/have used”. She did not know anything about it, so I told her about pills, injections, implants, condoms, etc. She was astonished when I told her that it is free at the government health facilities. Hopefully she is able to go! The main problem with access to family planning methods is that the husband controls the money that is needed to get to the Kimana health center (nearest for them) and the husbands usually don’t allow the women to use birth control. A common mentality is that since the men pay dowry (usually 10 cows per wife), they own the wives and thus can control every aspect of their lives (including their healthcare) and beat them when they see fit. After answering the Mamas questions on birth control methods and their potential complications, she asked me about rape and domestic violence in my culture. She wanted to know what would happen if it happened to me. I told her that it is not accepted at all in my culture, and men and women are supposed to have the same rights. I told her that I could get a man arrested or sue him for either rape or domestic violence. After saying this, the father in law came around the corner brandishing a rather large stick and smacking it in his hand saying “well in Maasai culture, men own their women and tie them to this tree (points to tree) and beat them whenever we want”. It was really, really difficult to look at him and politely smile saying “sowa” (okay) and “ashe oleng” (thank you) before walking away.

We interviewed another Mama in the same Boma and her two kids were playing around her. She had an 18-month-old boy and a four-year-old girl. Halfway into the interview, the boy began playing with a wooden stick and hitting some of the lambs (very normal behaviour apparently) when he quickly turned around and really whacked his sister from the corner of her eye to her forehead. The little girl collapsed in sobs and the mother’s response was to simply hug her son. I was absolutely astonished and did not understand, so I looked to my translator for help. Daniel said that this was a normal gender role “rehearsal” for a boy-girl relationship. This was an everyday activity and as this little girl with huge brown eyes, a torn up dress covered in flies and dirt was collapsed in the corner and shaking with sobs, I truly saw the implications of this male dominated society. I was rather shaken up after leaving that Boma. I wanted nothing more than to grab that girl and take her out of there.

In one of the other Bomas, we talked to a few women about the purpose of our study and understanding the implications of the closure of the Imbirikani Clinic. They repeatedly asked me to do something about the lack of healthcare. Initially, they thought I was going to reopen the clinic and were very disappointed when I said I wasn’t. However, I explained to them that what we need to figure out is a way to create a sustainable organization that coordinates the scope and rights that the government can provide, while utilizing the funding, flexibility and expertise that an NGO can provide. This brings me back to my favourite topic again: Private Public Partnerships! The women completely agreed with this, but reiterated their frustration at the lack of healthcare. Further, we discussed how a common misconception is that many women chose traditional healers over modern medicine because of preference, but in actuality it is because of necessity. When modern medicine is not available, they are forced to use the traditional medicine. While Maasai cherish their cultural traditions, when it comes to healthcare they truly desire the best care.

It’s extremely frustrating to talk to these women about the problems they are having when at home, in the US or Switzerland they are the most simple and preventable problems that aren’t even considered problems. The services that these women say they need the most are antenatal care/deliveries, child immunization services, water treatment services, inpatient treatment and referral, outpatient treatment and mobile clinic services. Most of these women have revoked to delivering at home because they have no option. They want to deliver at a facility but have no money to get there and/or don’t have a way to get there. When these basic services are not available, they perpetuate opportunistic infections, maternal and child mortality and morbidity, social stigmas surrounding the diseases and exacerbate existing problems. It’s so infuriating hearing stories of the incredible healthcare they had for nine years that was ripped away from them because of the unsustainable nature of non-governmental organizations. When they ask me what I am going to do, I struggle because I want to tell them that I am going to do all I can to help bring healthcare back to them, but I don’t want to give them false hope and broken promises. It’s a really tough situation.

Overall, I have had great experiences with directed research. I have a Maasai name, Naserian, meaning lucky or good fortune. I have been “proposed to”, invited to return, criticized, praised and so on. I’ve made at least six babies sob because of my scary whiteness and have had my hair played with by dozens of little girls. I have see more breasts (breastfeeding and boobs are not necessarily private) than I would have expected in a lifetime and more flies swarming around the eyes, lips and noses of children than I thought possible. I have learned a lot from these women who have so much less than I do, but live so much more fully. I hope beyond anything that I never forget their stories and their requests. I don’t know if I will ever be able to bring about the change that they so desperately want and need, but I will certainly try.