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| Sierra Leone was recovering but Ebola has changed everything | Sierra Leone was recovering but Ebola has changed everything |
| (about 2 hours later) | |
| The news about Pauline Cafferkey, the Scottish nurse currently fighting for her life after treating Ebola victims in west Africa, is a sharp reminder to those outside the region that the virus is still, despite all efforts, as devastating and deadly as ever. I’ve just returned to Sierra Leone, where I arrived in January 2012 with my husband, who is an aid worker. Last August, as the Ebola outbreak restricted travel, we were evacuated. The country I am witnessing today is starkly different to the one I left five months ago. | The news about Pauline Cafferkey, the Scottish nurse currently fighting for her life after treating Ebola victims in west Africa, is a sharp reminder to those outside the region that the virus is still, despite all efforts, as devastating and deadly as ever. I’ve just returned to Sierra Leone, where I arrived in January 2012 with my husband, who is an aid worker. Last August, as the Ebola outbreak restricted travel, we were evacuated. The country I am witnessing today is starkly different to the one I left five months ago. |
| In our first two and a half years here, we saw many changes – signs of progress steadily building as the country shook off the effects and stigma of the civil war. There was a feeling that things were really taking off. Exciting and creative income-generating projects were being set up, diasporans were returning. Outside investment was pouring in. Restaurants and hotels were opening. An “off the beaten track” tourism industry was beginning to flourish. Tarmac roads were being built. Construction was booming. | In our first two and a half years here, we saw many changes – signs of progress steadily building as the country shook off the effects and stigma of the civil war. There was a feeling that things were really taking off. Exciting and creative income-generating projects were being set up, diasporans were returning. Outside investment was pouring in. Restaurants and hotels were opening. An “off the beaten track” tourism industry was beginning to flourish. Tarmac roads were being built. Construction was booming. |
| Now, the landscape is altered. Military helicopters drone above the picturesque Freetown skyline. Treatment centres have sprung up around the peninsula, like the one at Kerry Town, where Pauline Cafferkey was working: a surreal village of white tents nestled at the foot of the mountains. Public awareness posters are everywhere: “Kick Ebola out”, “Ebola, e du so” (it’s enough). At road checkpoints and the entrances to shops and restaurants, you must stop to wash your hands and have your temperature taken. | Now, the landscape is altered. Military helicopters drone above the picturesque Freetown skyline. Treatment centres have sprung up around the peninsula, like the one at Kerry Town, where Pauline Cafferkey was working: a surreal village of white tents nestled at the foot of the mountains. Public awareness posters are everywhere: “Kick Ebola out”, “Ebola, e du so” (it’s enough). At road checkpoints and the entrances to shops and restaurants, you must stop to wash your hands and have your temperature taken. |
| Normally bustling market areas are eerily deserted on evenings and weekends due to new trading curfews. Stray dogs scuttle between the empty market stands. There’s the constant wailing of ambulance sirens: before it was unusual to see an ambulance at all. The radio broadcasts back-to-back programmes on how to avoid Ebola. All the pop songs are about the virus. | Normally bustling market areas are eerily deserted on evenings and weekends due to new trading curfews. Stray dogs scuttle between the empty market stands. There’s the constant wailing of ambulance sirens: before it was unusual to see an ambulance at all. The radio broadcasts back-to-back programmes on how to avoid Ebola. All the pop songs are about the virus. |
| The previously thriving social scene is dead. Gatherings are banned. Bars and restaurants close from 6pm, though more exclusive hotels, such as the Radisson Blu (formerly the UN headquarters during the war), are filled with humanitarian workers. | The previously thriving social scene is dead. Gatherings are banned. Bars and restaurants close from 6pm, though more exclusive hotels, such as the Radisson Blu (formerly the UN headquarters during the war), are filled with humanitarian workers. |
| One of the most striking changes is the complete lack of human contact. Sierra Leone is a country of welcome and warmth. The usual greeting is to shake hands, then touch your hand to your chest – as if you are drawing that person to your heart. At the beginning of the outbreak, this was adapted with humour – instead of touching hands, people greeted each other with elbows, saying “elbow-la”. Now, everyone is promoting ABC: Avoid Body Contact. At a time when people need physical comfort, none can be given. As I write, I can hear Aisha and Batul, the small girls in our compound, calling to each other in Krio as they play tag: “Don’t touch me, don’t touch anyone, or you’ll die! These are Ebola times!” They are five and seven years old – these are heavy lessons to learn. | One of the most striking changes is the complete lack of human contact. Sierra Leone is a country of welcome and warmth. The usual greeting is to shake hands, then touch your hand to your chest – as if you are drawing that person to your heart. At the beginning of the outbreak, this was adapted with humour – instead of touching hands, people greeted each other with elbows, saying “elbow-la”. Now, everyone is promoting ABC: Avoid Body Contact. At a time when people need physical comfort, none can be given. As I write, I can hear Aisha and Batul, the small girls in our compound, calling to each other in Krio as they play tag: “Don’t touch me, don’t touch anyone, or you’ll die! These are Ebola times!” They are five and seven years old – these are heavy lessons to learn. |
| Aisha, whose parents cannot read, started school last year. But now all schools are closed. Lessons are being given over the radio. Even the spelling classes seem related to the outbreak. “Predict – p-r-e-d-i-c-t,” the radio teacher says. “As in, there is no way to predict what will happen.” | Aisha, whose parents cannot read, started school last year. But now all schools are closed. Lessons are being given over the radio. Even the spelling classes seem related to the outbreak. “Predict – p-r-e-d-i-c-t,” the radio teacher says. “As in, there is no way to predict what will happen.” |
| The outbreak has left many struggling for employment. Restricted trading hours are affecting people’s capacity to earn. At the same time, food prices have risen, because Ebola has affected farming and supplies. | The outbreak has left many struggling for employment. Restricted trading hours are affecting people’s capacity to earn. At the same time, food prices have risen, because Ebola has affected farming and supplies. |
| Communities like Bureh, a small fishing village on the western peninsula, were beginning to thrive on tourism, but are now struggling. Last weekend, I drove to Bureh beach to find it deserted. “At weekends we used to have 40-50 customers a day,” says Jabhez Benga, the manager of Bureh Surf Club. “Last Saturday no one came at all. We used to support school kids in the community with our profits, but we can’t any more.” | Communities like Bureh, a small fishing village on the western peninsula, were beginning to thrive on tourism, but are now struggling. Last weekend, I drove to Bureh beach to find it deserted. “At weekends we used to have 40-50 customers a day,” says Jabhez Benga, the manager of Bureh Surf Club. “Last Saturday no one came at all. We used to support school kids in the community with our profits, but we can’t any more.” |
| Even when the Ebola outbreak is over, its wider effects are going to be felt for a long time. A whole generation is out of education. Investors have left. The stigma from the civil war has been replaced by Ebola, and will be lasting. | Even when the Ebola outbreak is over, its wider effects are going to be felt for a long time. A whole generation is out of education. Investors have left. The stigma from the civil war has been replaced by Ebola, and will be lasting. |
| The healthcare system has been brought to its knees. People are terrified to go to hospital for fear they might become infected. Healthcare workers are over-stretched. Ebola is killing in many different ways: women who are pregnant, people with malaria and other potentially deadly illnesses – they cannot receive the medical help they need. Three weeks ago I lost a dear friend and colleague here: TMan Fayia died from an abdominal issue, seemingly a bowel obstruction, which wasn’t successfully diagnosed and treated. If the healthcare system was not so strained his life may have been saved. He was 35 years old, and normally fit and healthy. He leaves behind a wife and four children. A child soldier turned yoga teacher, he was a leader of Sierra Leone’s regeneration. | |
| To support the fight against Ebola, some friends and I have formed a fundraising group: Good Never Lost. We are raising money for King’s Sierra Leone Partnership, which is at the frontline of the Ebola response in Freetown. “Good Never Lost” is a slogan often emblazoned on minibuses here, as a cheerful reminder never to give up hope. It encapsulates the resilience and positivity that Sierra Leoneans are known for. Because still, through all these dreadful times, people manage to smile. Still people say: “Salone e tranga, wi go try fo kick di Ebola, wi go tinap back” – Sierra Leone is strong, we will try to get rid of Ebola, we will stand up again. | To support the fight against Ebola, some friends and I have formed a fundraising group: Good Never Lost. We are raising money for King’s Sierra Leone Partnership, which is at the frontline of the Ebola response in Freetown. “Good Never Lost” is a slogan often emblazoned on minibuses here, as a cheerful reminder never to give up hope. It encapsulates the resilience and positivity that Sierra Leoneans are known for. Because still, through all these dreadful times, people manage to smile. Still people say: “Salone e tranga, wi go try fo kick di Ebola, wi go tinap back” – Sierra Leone is strong, we will try to get rid of Ebola, we will stand up again. |
| To do this Sierra Leone, and all Ebola-hit nations, need the wealthy countries of the world to stand with them. If there are any small mercies, perhaps it’s that the Ebola outbreak has brought the struggling healthcare system here to the world’s attention. Meaningful support from the west is now finally on the ground, but it took a long time to arrive. Experts expect the outbreak to last until the end of this year. But much longer-term support, strengthening and community sensitisation will be needed. | To do this Sierra Leone, and all Ebola-hit nations, need the wealthy countries of the world to stand with them. If there are any small mercies, perhaps it’s that the Ebola outbreak has brought the struggling healthcare system here to the world’s attention. Meaningful support from the west is now finally on the ground, but it took a long time to arrive. Experts expect the outbreak to last until the end of this year. But much longer-term support, strengthening and community sensitisation will be needed. |
| In the meantime life goes on. And as 2014 drew to a close, and despite curfews banning the usual fantastically raucous community beach parties, friends were lighting candles at home, to welcome in a new year of hope. | In the meantime life goes on. And as 2014 drew to a close, and despite curfews banning the usual fantastically raucous community beach parties, friends were lighting candles at home, to welcome in a new year of hope. |