Imagine being told that there is a problem that needs to be addressed, but you have no idea the extent of the problem, where to start, or even if you are a part of the solution. That is how it felt for me, the daughter of two Zimbabwean immigrants, embarking on this journey back to my roots. Everytime I visited my family in Zimbabwe, I made new observations. My rose-colored glasses were starting to come off, and I began to witness disparities in the quality of life in Zimbabwe in comparison to the States. While every country has its challenges, I saw an opportunity for growth within the health care system of Zimbabwe.
A meaningful encounter took place in the Children Rehab Unit of Harare Central Hospital. Early on I was exposed to the process a pediatrician undertakes while diagnosing a patient. With that exposure I learned of the obstacles that come with not being able to use an MRI machine or CT scans with contrast to help confirm the diagnosis. The physicians relied on their ability to quickly assess the patients and make an educated assumption of their condition based on prior cases they have seen. Furthermore, I started to notice gender inequalities among the parents. Almost all children were brought in by their mothers, rarely a father in sight.
Another recurrence was the manner in which mothers carried themselves. Even while receiving the news that their child has cerebral palsy, there was a stoic calm about them. It was not until I sat in on a counseling session with a brilliant family counselor that I learned of what lies beneath the exterior. Listening to the story of a mother, watching her raw emotion as she told her truth, was a transcendent experience. She reminded me why it is so crucial to have medical professionals advocating for patients in health care. Women are often blamed when children are born with disabilities. They are forced to bear the weight of the world, while their male counterparts are free to go find another wife who will fulfil her marriage contract and bear him healthy children.
As heartbreaking as that reality is, I saw strength. The women courageously carried on in spite of the obstacles placed before them. In spite of their community believing their child is a result of ancestral curses or God willed punishment for a past wrongdoing, they were able to hold their heads up high. Throughout the experience the counselor made it clear that her goal was to empower women and their spouses to embrace their child. A career in medicine is emotionally and mentally draining, especially when you care for your patients. However, it is that passion for the wellbeing of my future patients that continues to push me to become a physician. Although there is not one easy fix in regards to Zimbabwe’s health care system, I refuse to lose hope. For it is the fire within us that fuels us to keep journeying into the unknown.
By Vongai Tizora.
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