Ward B. Beds on either side, chairs in front of them, filled with patients and crew, all here to celebrate with the newly healed women.
The steady flow of the air conditioning rocks the multi-colored paper chain hung from the ceiling. Coloring pages, the ladies' own artwork, hang above their beds.
We are waiting to see them. Hushed voices fill the room, English, French and Ewe. A little girl, arms wrapped around an upside down jack-in-the-box, walks in. Startled by the amount of people, she stops. Looks around. The shock on her face changes to happiness, and she skips down the aisle.
Then a sound. The sound of singing. The drums begin. The voices getting louder as the women come down the hall. We clap in time to the music and sing when we know the words.
Three ladies come in, beautiful dresses, hats, jewelery, and most of all, beautiful smiles. They, and the translators and nurses, dance down the aisle.
The dancing continues for a while. Then a speech. A woman from Mercy Ships talks about the grace of God and he's wish for us to forgive. To forgive those who hurt us, to forgive those who turned their backs on these women.
It is time for the testimonies. The first woman comes up and tells how she has been touched by the grace of God. How, because of him, she now has her life back. She can now live. After twenty-five years of VVF, she now can be free. Covering her new dress were pictures, pictures of a bird in a cage, pictures of the bird escaping, pictures of the bird free.
The second woman spoke of a hard life. Of a pregnancy that lasted long. Of passing out, and being brought to the bush, where her friends and family dug her grave. Of telling her brother that she was cold, despite the fact that she was no longer conscious. Of being brought home. Of being told to go to church, and when she was there, no one would sit next to her. They talked about her. And she never went back. Of having a second child. Of the child growing up. Of coming here, and being healed. And now she will go back to church, she will go back to church and praise the Lord. She shouldn't be able to walk, she shouldn't even be alive. But she is.
The third woman spoke quietly, softly. She didn't share much. Maybe the pain was still too fresh, maybe she was overwhelmed. She thanked God, thanked the doctors. She thanked them for ending her seven years of shame.
VVF is a very real problem in Africa. With hospitals far away, most women give birth at home. With no medicine and very little help, these pregnancies are hard and dangerous. Lasting hours, to even days, sometimes the strain is too much for the woman's body. Tearing muscle and tissue inside, they become broken. Unable to contain it, they leak urine, with no way to stop it. They become surrounded with the stench and everything becomes stained. Already trying to live with this, they become outcast, ostracized by society. No one talks to them, their husband divorces them.
In a culture where family is everything, they are alone.
These women come broken, and leave healed,praising the Lord for the life he has given back to them.
