Louisa, Bettina and Boi my next door neighbor’s kids came running up to me yelling “Prin! Prin! Mama ya Junior tombe” (Junior’s mum has fallen) after hearing that I took off for my house with the kids at my heels. When I got to the house, the kids led me around the house to the back where I saw a group of about 10 women huddled in a tight circle around my mama who was lying on the ground arms and legs splayed out haphazardly. As I got closer to the group I saw a lot of kids standing behind the group of women trying to get a glimpse of my mama. When I saw my little brother Junior, he just came over and put his tiny arms around my waist and looked up at me.
I then went over to one of the ladies I recognized and asked her what happened? What was going on? Before she had time to respond, my mama’s chest started heaving really heavily and she clutched her heart in intense agony, I think she was having a heart attack. After some time, the heaving stopped and she just lay there and all the women were clutching their faces making sympathetic noises and used their hands and pieces of cloth to generate some sort of breeze for my mama.
I’ve honestly never been so scared. This women had taken me into her home, welcomed me with open arms into her family, she calls me her daughter and is always there when I need help or a hug. She truly has become my family here in Cameroon. I was terrified for her, her kids and (selfishly) for me to.
I went on the side and called Monique. When she picked up I told her “Monique it’s Prin, I’m at home, I think my mama just had a heart attack and now she’s unresponsive” Monique told me she’d call me right back.
I went back to the group of women and asked if there was anything I could do. One of the ladies told me that a car had arrived to take her to the hospital, so all us women made a make-shift gurney with our hands and carried my mama to the car. While the ladies were deciding how to place her in the car, I ran into the house to my room to grab two bottles of water for my mama. By the time I got outside, the car had left, but Lamine was taking a Moto to the hospital, so she took the water bottles. After Lamine left, I went into the house to look for my boys, when I came back outside; I saw David and Monique talking to some of the older neighborhood kids. I think it’s important to note how quickly they got to me. I had spoken to Monique less than 10 minutes prior to her arrival with David at my house. They are awesome! Anyways, so I walked over to them, and as soon as I was in front of them, all my stress and worry came to the surface and my eyes filled with tears and my lip began to quiver. But almost automatically I composed myself and told them “I can’t do this here” I meant cry, but David misinterpreted what I said and said “let’s go, you can come with us and relax and get away from this chaos.” I considered it, I really did, but I honestly could not leave my four brothers at home alone. So I told David no, I’m fine and that I have to be at home where my brother’s are. David and Monique said that’s fine and they told me they would follow my mama to the hospital and find out what happened. After they left, I went to the house and sat on the front porch with my four brothers and the three kids from next door. I can honestly say it was the first time where there was complete silence. But the drama wasn’t over, after half an hour some kids ran up to our house saying the car was coming back, so we all stood up and went outside, I kept hearing the word “mourir”, and I have no idea what that means, but I know that “mort” is dead, so I was thinking oh my god, she died and that’s why they returned home, but then I saw my mama and saw her head bobbing slightly and let out a sigh of relief, she was still alive. I later learned the word they were saying was miellur (incorrect spelling) which means better. But she was still unresponsive and we had to carry her into the living room. When we placed her on the couch, the older women ushered all the little kids out of the house. Our next door neighbor ran to her house to bring a fan, and we placed it to blow over my mama. The atmosphere in the house was very quiet and very tense, the only sound was the steady humming of the fan. After a while though mama started moving her head more and more and started mumbling things, which in my eyes were definite signs of improvement. After an hour or so, she sat up but still looked really out of it. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me she gestured for me to come and sit by her, so I did. I kept smiling and saying ca va? And she would smile back and just nod, I felt terrible that I couldn’t comfort her (or the kids). By 8:30pm I left to go to my room. I gave my dad a missed call and waited for him to call back. As soon as I heard my Ruhi’s voice, I started crying and said “Uj, please give the phone to mum”. Talking to my dad helped me a lot (as usual); he calmed me down and reminded me that I have to be strong for the family.
This experience really scared me; it also made me critically think about families here in Cameroon. In one of our first tech sessions, we learned that the average Cameroonian lives to the ripe old age of 47. We also learned that the average family has 6 kids, my mama has 7! What happens to these kids if their parents die? How will the support themselves? How will they continue with school? How will they eat? Who will protect them?
I was also reminded of how resilient women are. This morning my mama was sitting on the couch, watching TV talking to her friend and delegating chores to my siblings, she also sat with me as I had my breakfast; she had a heart attack yesterday!
xxx
Before I finish this post I want to talk about women and the world. Women bear a disproportionate burden of poverty, ill heath, gender based violence, and hunger. Yet despite these facts, I feel a sense of hopefulness at the resilience of women. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights recognizes civil and political rights - but also the importance of economic, social and cultural rights including the right to decent work, to adequate health care and education. Yet the path to gender equality and women's empowerment remains an uphill battle for many women, often complicated by a lack of access to family planning and sexual and reproductive health services.
To advance the conversation about resilience, we have no choice but to talk about the uneven distribution of resources and the growing disparities between and within countries, and the importance of gender equality. Agronomists, economists, public health professionals and politicians all agree there is enough food to feed everyone, but many go to bed hungry (60% of the chronically hungry are women and girls).
“The strength of a woman is not measured by the impact that all her hardships in life have had on her; but the strength of a woman is measured by the extent of her refusal to allow those hardships to dictate her and who she becomes.” ― C. JoyBell C.
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