Sabbatical Success! Not Just a Holiday

In January, I set off on a 4 month sabbatical to Ghana, Africa; a trip of discovery, both personally and professionally. For those who don’t know me, I have worked on a variety of aid initiatives over the past 8 years in this country, and in recent years have felt a strong pull towards healthcare. My hope was to come away with a clear understanding of what ‘it’ is I should be focusing my efforts on. I have always had a strong attraction to Ghana and I needed time to understand why, and more importantly, figure out where exactly I fit in. With little commonality between societies it was important to not have preconceived ideas of what to expect.

My trip was filled with exceptional experiences, unsettling experiences and everything in-between. It’s exactly what I had hoped for - the highs and lows are simply a reality of life regardless of where you are and I needed to see this firsthand. Despite best intentions to keep my journal up-to-date, once immersed in my new surroundings I made the decision to put my full attention on my day to day activities. Writing does not come naturally to me so I didn't want the added pressure of trying to put the experiences into words. Now home, I will work on sharing these adventures in future blog posts. As I began the trip, and started networking, I met so many incredible people doing such good work. I was inspired but also anxious! I felt inspired for obvious reasons, but anxious because I am an architectural technologist with no formal training in healthcare and I questioned my own credentials and abilities. What was it that made me qualified to make contributions that would be significant enough to spark change? I really struggled with this notion for the first half of my trip. Despite the great initiatives I was witnessing, I was struggling with self-doubt and frustration … what was it? What was ‘my thing’?

Finally, 2 months into my trip everything clicked and I got it. I knew the focus of my work would be advocating for Ghanaian children with physical disabilities. I met a boy named Dzilanyo (Gee-lan-yo), while on a visit to HardtHaven, a children’s home in Kpando, and it was then my unique qualification became clear.

Dzilanyo has had more than his share of challenges. He was victim of child trafficking, had an accident resulting in fractures to his chest and back and to complicate things further, contracted tuberculosis of the bone. Dzilanyo now relies primarily on a wheelchair to get around, as well as help from his caregivers and other children at the home to manage daily tasks. A fundraising campaign, spearheaded by a former volunteer, is hopefully going to provide him the surgery he so desperately needs.

In Ghana, disabilities are further complicated by poverty, lack of resources, misconceptions about disabilities being related to spiritual sickness or a curse, and the belief that if you are disabled you can’t be a contributing member of society. I saw so many children, with such promise, who will never have an opportunity to thrive. Ignorance towards disabilities is in no way a generalization of Ghanaians; in fact I have met some of the most selfless, giving and forward thinking people in Ghana who have devoted their lives to improving the quality of life for others through access and inclusion. I look forward to working with these people and learning from them.

When I first met Dzilanyo we had an instant connection. Despite no formal education his English was surprising good. I enjoyed his sharp sense of humor and that little bit of typical teenage mischievousness … I liked this kid! As we talked more it became pretty clear I was likely one of the first people he met who could really relate to what he was going through. For those of you who don’t know, I have a rare bone condition called Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI), which as a child resulted in many fractures, surgeries and physiotherapy. I also used a wheelchair back then, while now I use crutches. We talked at length about what growing up with a physical challenge is like. He was not afraid to ask me anything and I was happy to share my experiences. We talked about everything from feeling different, being excluded and not having the ability to participate in many activities. We talked about how physically tiring some of the simplest tasks can be and how sore our hands get using our crutches or walker for extended periods of time. We talked about surgeries; he wanted to know if it would hurt? I was able to explain the process and even show him my scars. He listened intently just soaking it all in.

At some point I mentioned needing to get new crutches and instantly he asked if he could have my old ones. Surprised, I asked him if he really thought he could learn to use them. Confidently he replied YES! Now of course I wasn’t going to give him my hand-me-downs so I set out on a search in Accra, which was a whole other adventure of its own!

The next time I came for a visit, with crutches in hand, there was a noticeable shift in his attitude. Jessy, the home manager at HardtHaven, said he was like a new kid - much more active and involved. Dzilanyo and I now talked about how important it is to stay as strong and active as possible, despite how difficult and boring it might be. We made a plan for him to push himself just a little bit further in his wheelchair each day, practice with the walker and crutches whenever possible, and help out with some of the chores like sweeping. The chore thing didn’t exactly last long but it was a great start. Just seeing how much even a little attention and encouragement did for his motivation was the best feeling in the world. I could see he understood the correlation between making yourself as strong as possible in order to have the best life possible. A positive mental outlook can’t be overlooked; it is just as important as dealing with the physical impairments them self.

With vivid memories of my own childhood, I know firsthand what it’s like dealing broken bones, surgeries, therapy and recovery. Even in my own sheltered and secure first world country this was terrifying at times. I know what it means to have access to healthcare and full integration into society. As a child, I was fully dependent on the care of others but as I got older I attended public school, went to college, got a job, got a drivers licence and bought a home. I have never had to rely on anyone to take care of me. I won the geographical lottery of being born in Canada, something I have never taken for granted. To see others in an almost identical situation to my own but with no options available to them is heartbreaking. The reality is, had I been born in Ghana, with my special needs not met, I likely would not have survived.

So where does all this leave me?

I have a concrete direction, many new contacts in Ghana and a ton of ideas to sort through before my next trip in the fall.

Stay tuned for more …