(The Capuchin, Spring 1990, pp.14-15)
God’s fire: that what the Lozi people of Zambia call leprosy. It doesn’t burn, but it hurts. If you want to experience in a small way the frustration of being a leper try finding page 10 of this magazine using only the knuckles of both hands – some lepers have no fingers. Or try buttoning a jacket in the same way, only this time close your eyes as well – many lepers are also blind. Try to imagine what it’s like being treated as an outcast by your own family and relatives because of an illness, to such an extent that you are no longer allowed to live with them, and they refuse even to give you a drink of water.
Outcasts, and yet…
It would be understandable if such experiences made lepers angry, bitter, vengeful people, yet anyone who works with them knows that the opposite is true. I can recall very clearly approaching Sichili mission in Zambia one day. As I drove along the narrow road heading towards the mission I saw a woman standing at the side of the road waving for a lift. Without paying much attention to her, I stopped and waited for me to get in. After a lot of delay and fumbling I looked up to see what was causing the hold-up. She was a leper: her face was distorted and misshapen, she had only a few fingers and she was blind in both eyes. No wonder she had difficulty in getting into the car! After I had helped her in, she started to talk. She was one of the happiest people I ever met, full of life and sparkle, bursting with fun and laughter, without a trace of self-pity.
Prejudice, Fear, Ignorance
In Mangango mission where I now live is a leper village staffed by Franciscan sisters who staff the Portiuncula hospital in Ballinasloe. They provide permanent care for about 40 to 45 inpatients. These are mainly elderly people, severely disabled, in some cases rejected by their relatives, and dependent on the institution for constant care. However, nowadays, most lepers are treated as outpatients, and the focus of health workers has shifted from cure to prevention, especially by education. But the process of changing public attitudes is painfully slow: prejudice, fear and ignorance are more difficult to overcome than the disease itself. It is not uncommon for people who suspect they have the disease not to come forward for examination lest they be found to have it and experience rejection as a result. The delay in receiving treatment which this causes inevitably reduces the chances of recovery. But where the disease is diagnosed and treated early with the multi-drug therapy of recent years, the chances of recovery are excellent – close to 100%.
Marko
Let one of the lepers, Marko, speak for himself: ‘I was born in Kalabo. My parents had leprosy, but, as children, none of the family had it, and I could not accept it when I got it. I went to a hospital for treatment but they discharged me and I had a sore on my leg and it was very weak. Then I had no feeling in my hand and leg, and many sores came and my body became swollen, so I came to Mangango.’
‘At first I thought the staff would not accept me in case I gave them my disease. After a few weeks of experiencing exercises and drinking medicines and the kindness of the staff, I began to feel human again and accepted. I was slow in getting better but all the patients and staff encouraged me. By the time I left the hospital after one year I could walk properly and I looked like I used to before. I felt so secure in the hospital care that my family came here and we built a house nearby.’
‘The hospital calls me regularly for examination, though I do not drink medicines. The hospital also gives me employment from time to time. I would like other patients to know I never believed when I was so sick two years ago that I could be as well as I am now. Patients should know that the new treatment really cures. It is better than traditional medicine, as I went to a traditional healer and sold my clothes to pay him, but he was no good and when I came here I had only a torn shirt and trousers and was often hungry.’
They teach us
We can learn a lot from the lepers if we want to. They teach us that when people support each other, they can overcome almost any obstacle; without mutual support people are derelict, and we are all losers. The young Francis of Assisi overcame his revulsion of leprosy, got off his horse and embraced a leper. For the leper, it was a sign of human solidarity. For Saint Francis, it was a step forward into a stronger, more courageous humanity. He got more than he gave by doing it.