A day in the life of Azafady

Posted on 07 December 2009

By Samm Short – Project Development Specialist, Azafady

It is mid-morning, and the electricity has been off for over an hour. In the searing heat of a Malagasy summer, Azafady staff put pen to paper in a fevered effort to work through the power cut; there are after all deadlines that have to be met, with or without a computer. In just 6 days time it will be World Aids Day, and the Mampisaina team are working flat out on preparing an education and awareness raising initiative for the local schools, utilising art as a medium for exploring what still remains a highly taboo subject. Mamy, the resident Doctor and project leader, has called in all available resources, and each staff member now has a pile of red ribbon and safety pins on their desk, waiting to be made into the universal symbol for HIV awareness in the hours when, say, the electricity cuts out.

This afternoon holds the promise of greatness – two shining red motorbikes, having been held in customs for well over a month due to the difficulties associated with establishing a transitional government, are finally due to arrive. Lahery, the logistical whizz (who also happens to have a not inconsiderable knowledge of motorbikes) has been on the phone with the garage where they are currently under construction, and the anticipation amongst the staff is tangible. These long-awaited bikes will enable Azafady’s life-saving nutritional health programme, part funded by TRAID, to reach 40,000 isolated pregnant women, mothers and children, desperately in need of the project’s growth monitoring, complementary food and hospital referral services. Given the devastating effects of 2009’s food security crisis in the very villages where the project works, the arrival of the bikes symbolises the hopes and prayers of everyone here.

Elsewhere, it is business as usual as we wait for the generator to kick in. Across the office, the unmistakable laugh of Tsina, volunteer coordinator extraordinaire, bounds off the walls. Untiring in her vivacity, she is today juggling an airport run to collect the latest intake of international volunteers, establishing the schedule for this month’s school building activities, providing a much-needed debrief for weary staff newly returned from the bush, and ensuring plans for the retirement party of Azafady’s founder meet her exacting degree of organisational precision.

It is almost midday when the skies split and let loose a torrent of the rain that has been building in weight for the last few days. The landscape is obliterated in a grey sheet, and swamp-like puddles form almost immediately in the sandy soil. Lomba, head of the town’s urban sanitation project, hurries between offices with a shirt pulled over his head, anxious that plans for the Australian First Secretary’s arrival go unhindered by this latest intrusion. She is due to arrive tomorrow afternoon, to officiate the opening of a new public toilet for Amparihy, one of the most overcrowded quartiers in the town. With no sanitation infrastructure available to the majority of the town’s population, the impact of public defecation had reached crisis point – no longer just marring the local beaches, it had spread to the shores of Lake Amparihy and the town’s water supply, increasing fears over the already horrific prevalence of diarrhoeal diseases. When 1 in 10 children die before the age of 5 from illnesses associated with lack of clean drinking water, provision of a public toilet and the health and hygiene education that is part and parcel of the project is cause for celebration indeed.

With a bit of luck, come tomorrow the electricity will be back on, the rain will have stopped, and the ceremony can go ahead as planned, complete with a plethora of local song and dance, and maybe even a glass of rum, to welcome the First Secretary in the traditional style. But for now, Azafady staff will continue as they always do, preparing for the worst, hoping for the best, and meeting whatever new challenges are thrown at them with a smile and a laugh.

After all, this is Madagascar.