Carlos Descalzo
By Carlos Descalzo, CEO
Earlier this year, InJoy Health Education embarked on a mission to support Maternal Life International’s (MLI) Safe Passages program. InJoy’s campaign included purchasing a portable ultrasound for a health clinic in rural Kenya through fundraising and donating a percentage of sales. This summer, InJoy CEO Carlos Descalzo delivered the ultrasound in person, and participated in a 120-mile supported walk across Kenya’s savannah and mountains with his family to raise additional funds for the program. This blog shares his experience.
Walking as a Way of Life
When my wife, son, and I decided to participate in the Safe Passages Walk, we knew there would be a lot of walking involved. But we didn’t realize the extent to which walking—basic, human-powered transportation—would become the central theme of our entire experience in Kenya. Our goals were to bring awareness to maternal health disparities, raise funds, and be in solidarity with Africans who walk every day to cover their basic needs—just as our ancestors did long ago. Of course, today most of us take access to transportation for granted. But in Kenya, even when we were riding a bus in remote primitive areas, we saw children and adults alike walking for miles as a part of their daily routine.
While some children were fortunate enough to be within walking distance of a school, others herded goats or fetched water for their families as survival took precedence over education. Aware of the scarcity of medical services, our group purchased an insurance policy that covered emergency evacuation by airplane or helicopter. However, the local people have no such luxuries when they have medical needs. Clinics and hospitals are few and far between with vastly differing levels of care that could be provided. In fact, pregnant women may walk many miles to seek care, even while in labor.
One of the main things I learned on this walk was to surrender. I was not in control. I did not know how many miles, how many hours, and in what terrain we were going to walk on any given day. The only plan was walking until dark. Anxiety and heat exhaustion impacted our moods and our ability to think clearly, and several members of our group became ill. But as the trip progressed, we learned how to match our emotions to the slow pace of the walk. In the mental struggle between awareness of our physical comforts and remembering why we were all doing this, eventually the importance of our mission won out. We all learned to be comfortable with being uncomfortable, and with the simpler life that comes from walking.
The Incredible People
The best thing about the walk was getting to see the people along the way who came to greet us. Children and families were coming out and peeking through the trees in awe. Because we were walking, we got a closer understanding of the people. It is humbling to see how they live with so little. It was especially shocking to see little kids shepherding and carrying barrels of water. It’s surreal to think about how different their lives are from our own.
But the most incredible people we met were the 16 camel drovers were our local guides on the trip. Their resiliency, fortitude, humility, and endurance were beyond belief. They woke up two hours before sunrise to begin preparations for the day, which included packing up the entire camp onto the backs of 27 ornery camels.
All day long in the blistering heat, the drovers coaxed the stubborn camels through all sorts of hazardous terrain, including river crossings, steep inclines, knee deep mud, stinging nettles, rocky terrain, and thick jungle vegetation. The drovers slashed at the thorny bushes and chopped down countless trees and branches to create a passable trail for the camels.
Then, as the sun was setting, we finally stopped to set up camp. While we refreshed ourselves and rubbed our feet, the drovers didn’t rest for a minute. They went to work setting up our tents, building a fire, preparing dinner, unpacking the camels, and completing other camp chores that took them hours. To sleep for the night, the drovers simply piled up the pads that had served as padding on the camels’ backs to lie down on outside, instead of the tents and cots we used.
I have never seen people working so hard for such long days. They cheerfully worked and bent over backward to help us out in any way possible. They each had one set of clothes, one headlamp, and a pair of sandals on their feet. Despite obvious fatigue, foot injuries and other illnesses, the drovers always seemed happy, singing and staying positive, and they were willing to help in any way and make our experience more enjoyable.
Making a Difference for Pregnant Women
Beyond making us appreciate the comforts of our lives, the walk also gave us a greater sense of urgency to help where we can, to improve the lives of pregnant women and new families in Kenya. The medical clinic that we visited was much different than the ones we see in our business. They have very limited resources and a small staff with varying levels of education and skill. There are rudimentary exam tables, limited medical equipment, and no monitors except the one we presented them with. There are also no computers, so instructions are frequently given verbally and occasionally handwritten for those that can read.
The staff were truly jacks-of-all-trades. They needed to know about a wide variety of conditions and procedures, and they were extremely proud of their facilities despite being so modest and humble.
The staff was extremely grateful to receive the ultrasound from us, believing that it was an answer to their prayers. They had been hoping to get an ultrasound for years, and this is their first one.
“We conduct up to 20 deliveries a month. Having an ultrasound has been our dream for some time now to raise our level of care. It was my sincere wish that we could collaborate with a like-minded organization to make this dream a reality, and we did it.”
Father Gifton, Director of the Ruiri Health Center
Not only will the ultrasound help them diagnose things that could be managed differently to improve outcomes or get the mother to a hospital where more possibilities for a safe birth could occur, but also will also encourage women to come in for general prenatal care, which is not always seen as necessary as it is here. As one doctor there put it, “Who doesn’t want to see their baby?”
More Lessons Learned
As I mentioned, my son and my wife walked in the Safe Passages Walk with me. They also learned many things. My son has learned to appreciate the comforts he has, and that hardship and difficulties are just part of life. He understands that it is better to embrace challenges rather than wasting efforts complaining about why they happened to you.
My wife shared her thoughts too: “I learned about gratitude. We are so incredibly blessed in the US to live where we do not have to worry about how to get medical treatment, where our next meal comes from, and if the untreated muddy water we gather will give us a deadly disease. The walking I do in my daily life is for leisure and fitness, not for survival.
The poverty in Kenya has an immensely different meaning than poverty in the US. In Kenya, the poor live in huts made of twigs and trash that don’t even look as sturdy as a chicken coop. The poor in Kenya drink murky brown water they find when they dig a hole where the river passed through during the rainy season. For the poor in Kenya a taste of meat is rare; their staple food is a corn flour mixed with water.
We have drastic lifestyle differences. My 12-year-old has to clean out the dishwasher, set the table, put away his clothes, and vacuum the floor as his everyday chores, which takes him less than an hour to do. An 8-year-old in Kenya would be responsible for herding the goats all day in the hot sun and would come home to a flimsy hut with a dirt floor. There would be no dishwasher to unload, extra clothes to put away, table to set, or floor to vacuum for the Kenyan boy to come home to. There may not even be enough food to fill his stomach.”
Caring for the Poorest of the Poor
The needs of the people in Kenya are a bit overwhelming, and the opportunities to help are endless. But we can feel good knowing that donations to grassroots organizations like Maternal Life International really go a long way in the African nations they serve. The organization has extremely low overhead costs, and our American dollars purchase a lot of assistance, training, and equipment in Africa.
The poor of Africa know poverty in such an intense way, and we have a hard time understanding the desperation they experience just to survive. Some of you have already helped by being a sponsor or contributing to this cause. I want to personally thank you for caring about the poorest of the poor in the world. The walk is over, but we continue to accept monetary donations for the Safe Passages program.
