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| Inside Sierra Leone's Ebola clinics | Inside Sierra Leone's Ebola clinics |
| (about 17 hours later) | |
| BBC global health reporter Tulip Mazumdar shares her experiences from Ebola-stricken Sierra Leone, where UK aid workers will soon be joining the race to stem this deadly disease outbreak. | BBC global health reporter Tulip Mazumdar shares her experiences from Ebola-stricken Sierra Leone, where UK aid workers will soon be joining the race to stem this deadly disease outbreak. |
| Day One - Welcome to Freetown | Day One - Welcome to Freetown |
| It's pitch black when we arrive at Lunghi airport at 01:00 local time, and the rain is coming down heavily. The journey, which before this outbreak took six hours from London, has taken us 20 hours. No airline flies direct to Sierra Leone from the UK anymore, so we have two stopovers - one in Paris and one in Casablanca. | |
| Not that we were in any doubt, but it doesn't take long to establish all is far from well in Sierra Leone. | Not that we were in any doubt, but it doesn't take long to establish all is far from well in Sierra Leone. |
| Before we're allowed into the main terminal building, we are ushered towards two large red containers filled with chlorine. Everyone silently adheres to washing their hands before entering. We're immediately handed "health declaration" forms asking us - among other things - where we've travelled in the past eight weeks and whether we are suffering with fever, diarrhoea or vomiting. | Before we're allowed into the main terminal building, we are ushered towards two large red containers filled with chlorine. Everyone silently adheres to washing their hands before entering. We're immediately handed "health declaration" forms asking us - among other things - where we've travelled in the past eight weeks and whether we are suffering with fever, diarrhoea or vomiting. |
| We're also given a leaflet explaining what Ebola is and how it spreads. Disturbing animations show cartoon people squatting, passing blood in their urine and faeces. Similar posters are plastered all through the arrivals hall. | We're also given a leaflet explaining what Ebola is and how it spreads. Disturbing animations show cartoon people squatting, passing blood in their urine and faeces. Similar posters are plastered all through the arrivals hall. |
| We pass through immigration - but before we are allowed to claim our baggage, men in gloves and white coats stop us again. | We pass through immigration - but before we are allowed to claim our baggage, men in gloves and white coats stop us again. |
| One of the men gives me a big, reassuring smile and then places a temperature gauge a few inches from my head. He says: "36.5 degrees: you can pass." | |
| Our driver meets us at arrivals. I instinctively go to shake his hand and then immediately withdraw. He smiles and pats his chest instead - this is the new Sierra Leone handshake. "Welcome to Freetown," he says. | Our driver meets us at arrivals. I instinctively go to shake his hand and then immediately withdraw. He smiles and pats his chest instead - this is the new Sierra Leone handshake. "Welcome to Freetown," he says. |
| Day Two - The gravediggers | Day Two - The gravediggers |
| Today we are filming at the country's main referral hospital - Connaught Hospital in central Freetown. As we enter, I see a woman in a purple and pink shirt lying on a bench, with her head in her hands. She looks extremely unwell. This area is where patients showing symptoms of Ebola come for help, but the help is limited. | Today we are filming at the country's main referral hospital - Connaught Hospital in central Freetown. As we enter, I see a woman in a purple and pink shirt lying on a bench, with her head in her hands. She looks extremely unwell. This area is where patients showing symptoms of Ebola come for help, but the help is limited. |
| This isn't a treatment centre; it's an isolation ward within the hospital. People have to travel many miles from here by ambulance to get proper supportive treatment. There are just 18 beds in this hospital, and they are all full. | |
| The latest patient to arrive is a one-month-old baby. Ebola killed both his parents overnight. The chances are he is also infected and will die within days. All medics can do is feed him and hold him through protective suits. I am reminded of my trip to Guinea a couple of months back, when I was covering this outbreak. Back then, I watched the body of a four-month-old baby lowered into the ground. Ebola also killed his mother. It's heart-breaking to imagine the most likely outcome for this other tiny baby. | |
| As we are leaving the hospital, a black truck pulls up. The burial team is here to remove two bodies and bury them in the nearby cemetery. We watch and then follow the makeshift hearse to these victims' final resting place. | As we are leaving the hospital, a black truck pulls up. The burial team is here to remove two bodies and bury them in the nearby cemetery. We watch and then follow the makeshift hearse to these victims' final resting place. |
| A whole area is cordoned off just for suspected and confirmed Ebola victims. Walking into it is eerie and tragic. There are hundreds of graves, most dug very recently, with fresh mounds of mud on top of them. One or two have a cross or children's toys scattered on them. Most, though, are unmarked. What hits me is the sheer scale - 400 bodies buried here in a matter of weeks. | A whole area is cordoned off just for suspected and confirmed Ebola victims. Walking into it is eerie and tragic. There are hundreds of graves, most dug very recently, with fresh mounds of mud on top of them. One or two have a cross or children's toys scattered on them. Most, though, are unmarked. What hits me is the sheer scale - 400 bodies buried here in a matter of weeks. |
| The burial team is efficient and almost jovial. I imagine it's the only way they can keep performing this grim task day in, day out. The cemetery supervisor, Abdul Rahman Parker, tells me he's been ostracised by his community - people are scared of him now because he handles the bodies of Ebola victims. But he says he doesn't care, and that Sierra Leone needs him to continue doing this job, even if its people don't realise it. | |
| The day ends with the burial teams throwing their protective clothing - gloves, masks and body suits - into the last grave. It's starting to rain again. We remove our protective suits and put them in a yellow biohazard bag, which the burial team disposes of. We spray ourselves with disinfectant, and silently head back to our hotel. | The day ends with the burial teams throwing their protective clothing - gloves, masks and body suits - into the last grave. It's starting to rain again. We remove our protective suits and put them in a yellow biohazard bag, which the burial team disposes of. We spray ourselves with disinfectant, and silently head back to our hotel. |
| Day Three - Desperation and hope | Day Three - Desperation and hope |
| We've been told about a small Italian non-governmental organisation called Emergency that has very recently set up a new treatment centre just outside the capital, so we're heading there today. | We've been told about a small Italian non-governmental organisation called Emergency that has very recently set up a new treatment centre just outside the capital, so we're heading there today. |
| When we pull up, we see a carload of people looking angry and desperate. We stay close to our vehicle - keeping our distance - but shout over to them and ask what's wrong. | |
| "My brother Francis is sick, and they won't take him at this centre. They say they are full. What are we supposed to do? We've been travelling from hospital to hospital all day and no-one will take him." | "My brother Francis is sick, and they won't take him at this centre. They say they are full. What are we supposed to do? We've been travelling from hospital to hospital all day and no-one will take him." |
| I peer into the car. Francis is sitting in the passenger seat staring into space. His eyes are red, and he has the hiccups - both are clear symptoms of Ebola. After almost an hour of pleading, the family eventually give up. The five of them pile back into their car and drive away. Everyone in that vehicle is now potentially at risk of catching Ebola. | I peer into the car. Francis is sitting in the passenger seat staring into space. His eyes are red, and he has the hiccups - both are clear symptoms of Ebola. After almost an hour of pleading, the family eventually give up. The five of them pile back into their car and drive away. Everyone in that vehicle is now potentially at risk of catching Ebola. |
| Later, we hear that Francis died. | |
| When we enter the treatment centre, I feel the helplessness and frustration of that family and I demand to know why they didn't allow that potentially dying man inside. Surely they can do something for him. The centre's co-ordinator, Luca Rolla, tells me their priority has to be their staff and the patients they are already treating. He tells me that they cannot go over capacity or they risk everyone else inside the centre. One of their doctors has already contracted the virus and is now being treated in Germany. | When we enter the treatment centre, I feel the helplessness and frustration of that family and I demand to know why they didn't allow that potentially dying man inside. Surely they can do something for him. The centre's co-ordinator, Luca Rolla, tells me their priority has to be their staff and the patients they are already treating. He tells me that they cannot go over capacity or they risk everyone else inside the centre. One of their doctors has already contracted the virus and is now being treated in Germany. |
| It's an impossible choice for these medics, and my frustration quickly pales in comparison to theirs. Luca has taken the family's details and if a bed becomes free anywhere in or around Freetown, he will let them know. | It's an impossible choice for these medics, and my frustration quickly pales in comparison to theirs. Luca has taken the family's details and if a bed becomes free anywhere in or around Freetown, he will let them know. |
| Luca tells me, what's needed right now is more international medics and training of local medics, and more isolation centres. Until then - he says - he will have to continue turning patients away, knowing full well they risk going back into the community and infecting yet more people. | Luca tells me, what's needed right now is more international medics and training of local medics, and more isolation centres. Until then - he says - he will have to continue turning patients away, knowing full well they risk going back into the community and infecting yet more people. |
| While we're filming, Luca's phone rings, he picks up, smiles and waves us over. He's just had some news that a bed has become available at another centre for the family he had to turn away. He calls them immediately and tells them to go straight there. | |
| Then we see another glimmer of hope. Three young girls are sitting patiently on stools in matching purple sarongs - just beyond the orange protective gates. They have survived Ebola and are getting ready to go home. | |
| Follow Tulip on Twitter - @TulipMazumdar | Follow Tulip on Twitter - @TulipMazumdar |