Ebola Workshop in Mariama Kunda village

Today I went to Mariama Kunda, a small village half an hour southwest of where I live. The drive over the paved road was fine, but as soon as we turned off the main road, I was glad we were in a four wheel drive. There had just been some heavy showers and all roads had turned to mud, causing us to swirve from left and right to avoid water filled holes. Our destination was a communal vegetable garden run by the Care for Natural Foundation (CFN) where local women grow vegetables such as tomatoes, red peppers, okra, onions and much more.

Rain clouds over Mariama Kunda

As the threat of Ebola is becoming more imminent in Western Africa, the director of CFN wanted to do a workshop on Ebola covering what is it and how you can protect yourself from becoming infected. Here in the Gambia, most people do not read newspapers, and rural communities rarely have access to internet. Most news is obtained from word of mouth, and although most women had heard of Ebola, none actually knew what it was, how it spreads, and how to protect yourself. There are even rumours circulating that you contract Ebola if you have been cursed by a Marabout (witch doctor).

The workshop in session

Ebola is contracted by eating bush meat, usually monkeys, or by exchanging bodily fluids with someone who is exhibiting symptoms or is deceased. Many new infections come from people who attend funerals of Ebola victims and have kissed or touched the body in some way to show their respect. Only a few cases have reached the Gambia, most from people who have travelled to nearby Guinee or Sierra Leone. The chance of contracting it here is very small if you take proper precautions.

One of the children I was entertaining

In spite of the rain, some thirty women from surrounding villages showed up, a turnout much higher than expected, keeping in mind that most of them travel on foot. Some had brought their children and babies, who I was more than happy to entertain during the workshop. Despite the serious subject being discussed, there was chatter, laughter, and the occasional shrieks of the young children. It was also a social gathering and a time for the women to catch up, even during the workshop. At the end of the workshop 10 boxes of used (children’s) clothing were divided under the women, donated from the Netherlands. 

While writing this, I cannot help but think how grateful I am to be able to experience days like this. It was not a particularly eventful day compared to other things I have done and seen, but I wonder what this day would have looked like if I were still in Amsterdam. Living here is not easy, but it certainly has its rewards.