This is Peter writing. I would like to tell you about Christmas in Arhiba. Arhiba where we work is the poorest area of one of the poorest countries in the world. The rate of under-nutrition in the Horn of Africa 78% compared with 68% in Afghanistan and 52% in North Korea (FAO figures). In Arhiba the rate is about 90%. 20% of all children we see are so severely undernourished, that they would probably die without special feeding. 26% of children in any case die before they reach five years old. Children suffering from Kwashiorkor consult us every day, brought in by walking skeletons of parents. The area consists of huts and tiny houses made of tin sheets, blocks, and stones. The ground is so arid nobody can grow even the odd tomato plant in their back yard, so if you don't have money you starve. The unemployment rate is 90%. The tracks between the houses are full of large puddles of raw sewage, unless it rains of course. On the five days a year that it rains the whole place becomes a sea of mud. Forget the pictures of refugee camps you have seen on television. There are no neat rows of tents here put up by competent Save the Children Fund staff, and no well built latrines. You see, this isn't an emergency. This is normal. This is the way things are here.
We work in a clinic in the middle of this area. The clinic is built out of concrete and has wash basins and taps but no water. When we arrived there was no light in the Health education room or the doctors' room. The level of HIV infection here is between 20 and 30%, and about 22.5% of people suffer from TB, but as one is unable to wash one's hands easily between one dirty dressing and the next, one may well be spreading rather than curing disease. If one sees a half dead baby - we see about 4 a day - and if one wants to admit it to hospital, the parents often haven't got the money (50 francs or 20p) to go across town by bus to get to the hospital, let alone the 3000 francs (£12) to get into the hospital. So they go away and die. But they die quietly, so nobody really notices. This week I have seen a baby of two years old who weighed 2.9 kilos, and a baby 2 ½ years old who weighed 4 kilos. So far this week I only know of two babies whom I have seen who have since died.
'So what?' one might say. 'C'est la vie - terribly sad and all that'. The only problem is that these are people for whom Jesus died, and He cares about them just as much as He cares about us. The scary thing is that he also holds us responsible for helping them out of their plight. That is if you read and believe the first ten chapters of Isaiah.
This article was reproduced with kind permission from Edwin Martin's prayer letter last Christmas. He currently works with the Red Sea Mission Team in Djibouti, who are looking for nurses, health workers, & midwives to work there, and in other parts of Africa and the Middle East.
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