Sarah Dechert’s heart sank when she looked at the 21-year-old man.
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In the grip of full-blown AIDS and with no money for treatment, the young Kenyan villager was literally the “walking dead”.
“As I walked out of the house, I knew I would never see anyone in Australia that sick,” the Wodonga nurse recalls.
In a country where access to modern medicine is still largely beyond the reach of much of the population, HIV, malaria and malnutrition are rife.
So too are myths around contraception, safe sex and childbirth – “if I have sex at night, the HIV will be asleep in my blood” – with the result that Kenya has one of the largest AIDS epidemics in the world.
Sarah says nothing could have prepared her for what she experienced during her month as a volunteer with World Youth International’s Nurses in Action program.
The bubbly 28-year-old works in the special care nursery at Wodonga Hospital.
There she tends to the precious babies who arrive in the world needing extra care, surrounded by the wonders of modern medicine and top-notch neo-natal equipment.
But Africa had always been on her “bucket list” and Sarah was keen to embark on humanitarian work that would challenge her both clinically and personally.
She certainly found that during her time stationed at the Odede Community Hospital on Lake Victoria, Kenya in August.
Sarah says she can’t imagine a place that is “more polar opposite than here”.
Much of the local population are subsistence farmers living in extreme poverty, the district is home to some of the highest HIV/AIDS rates in the country, and maternal and infant mortality rates are unacceptably high, states World Youth International.
The village house where Sarah stayed with fellow volunteers had only “very basic” facilities – squat toilets, bucket showers and no electricity or refrigeration save for a few hours a day courtesy of solar panels.
Yet going without creature comforts helped Sarah totally immerse herself in the strange, new world in which she found herself.
“I loved it,” she says. “I didn’t allow myself to have any expectations and I think that stood me in good stead.”
The short walk to the hospital each day brought with it amazing encounters, particularly with the local children, many of whom had not seen a white person before.
Before long they were walking hand in hand with their new-found friend, carrying Sarah’s bags and jostling for cuddles.
But it was at the rudimentary community hospital, built in 2013 by World Youth International, and during visits to outlying centres that Sarah was to test the full gamut of her nursing skills.
One of the biggest eye-openers for Sarah was witnessing first-hand the limited obstetrics care available to women in Kenya.
Before the Odede hospital was built, Sarah says one in three women died in childbirth.
And even now, facilities are spartan.
With minimal equipment – forget ultrasounds and humidicribs – midwives and nurses make do with basic sterilised equipment and old-fashioned observation.
Mothers labour on gurneys or the floor and often take babies home wrapped only in hoodies or towels without nappies.
Some of Sarah’s fundraising at home has gone towards tiling the floor of the Odede hospital, providing 30 buckets for mothers to bath their babies in and purchasing 15 pairs of clean pyjamas for the children who come to stay half-dressed in filthy clothes.
Two experiences during Sarah’s time in Kenya will stay with her forever.
The first was assisting 19-year-old Celine during her first labour.
Bearing in mind she’s a neonatal intensive care nurse and not a midwife, Sarah was pretty thrilled to learn Celine delivered a healthy baby girl later in the afternoon.
“I jumped on a motorbike and went back to visit her and take her some blankets and bibs,” Sarah says.
“The baby was gorgeous and the next afternoon I was told the mother had named her Sarah.”
During another trip to an outlying hospital, a woman called Emma presented with her waters broken and suspected twins.
Sarah assisted the midwife during the five-hour labour and admits it was pretty harrowing.
“I kept thinking, ‘What will I do if one of these babies comes out flat?’” she recalls.
“There was no equipment to monitor her, no pain relief and the language barrier was very tricky.
“The first one came out – a girl – and the second a beautiful two-kilogram boy.
“It was amazing but she was one of the lucky ones.
“Even so, she had to be sutured up without analgesia.”
For Sarah, these intimate encounters brought sharply into focus the difference between Australia’s health system and those in developing countries.
“It makes you profoundly aware of just how lucky we are as women to be born in Australia,” she says.
“Even the poorest of the poor are treated with respect, dignity and compassion and if something goes wrong, we have access to all the resources in the world for free.”
Sarah admits she experienced almost a “reverse culture shock” when she returned to Australia.
Wodonga is indeed a world away from a place where hundreds of people walk hours to see a nurse or doctor at medical camps set up in disused buildings.
It’s a place Sarah would return to in a heartbeat.
“I think what has stayed with me is the fact that these people have nothing and yet they are so very happy,” she says.