Hannah

As the Ainsworth family leaves Africa to move to Wales, read George's final post on "Ainsworths in Africa."  It's delightful and beautiful!

I want to introduce you to a friend of mine. This little nugget (below, left) is Hannah. A common name for us perhaps, but seemingly out of place amongst the Amadous, Mamadous and Djenabous of the Africa Mercy wards while it docked in Guinea.

Hannah and her mother, Annie, traveled on the road for six days from Liberia when they heard that Mercy Ships was docked in the neighboring country. Hannah contracted Noma when she was a few months old – a progressive and often gangrenous bacterial infection often caused by malnutrition, poor oral hygiene or unsafe drinking water. This infection, whilst completely treatable and preventable with antibiotics, eats its way through tissue leaving irreversible damage if left to its own devices. One quick search on Google images reveals the devastation it can cause. Fortunately, Hannah’s case was treated before too long. But damage had already been done, leaving her without most of her nose.

Whilst the hospital in Guinea was able to treat the Noma to stop it spreading – they could do little that Annie could afford when it came to fixing the damage already caused.

Then Mercy Ships came along – not just to fill in the gap and answer an immediate need, but to train local surgeons to operate on the ‘Hannahs’ of their own country.

I’m not even going to begin to properly explain the process of her surgery for fear of getting it completely wrong. But here is what my limited brain took from a conversation with the surgeon: they essentially take a piece of her scalp and move it around to attach it to her nose. They LEAVE it attached for a number of weeks (leaving a tube like piece of flesh hanging from the head to the nose) in order for it to properly bond and start growing itself… she then went in for a second surgery where the cut the ‘excess’ tubing and popped it back into place on her scalp, leaving behind a newly grown nose.

Crazy, right?!

This google diagram helped me to know I wasn’t dreaming when having that conversation and that this procedure is actually a real thing.

Following the surgery, Hannah was her usual bundle of energy on the wards! As her wounds healed and her little button nose got cuter by the day, I relished the chance to visit her daily outside of my normal commitments under Communications.

Hannah was just Hannah. I had no marketing agenda, I didn’t care if her mother said things that I couldn’t quote, and I wasn’t too fussed if I was never able to get a photograph of them as a ‘souvenir’ – I was just their friend and they were mine.

When I realised just how much I needed this, it confirmed that it was the right time to leave my role as writer for Mercy Ships. I never wanted the people I followed to be just work. I never wanted to have conversations only because I wanted them to say something ‘golden’. Everyone has a beautiful story to tell, even if it’s not marketable.

So for now, I’ll leave those creative choices up to the next people as I return home to the whatever lays ahead…

Grateful to have met a ‘Hannah’.