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A Mother's Final Look at Life
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Fatmata, who never attended school, was popular, a lighthearted presence with hair worn in tight cornrows and a bright sense of humor. "She was a very jovial person," Saidu recalled. "She never quarreled with anyone."
About 8 p.m. on a recent Thursday, Fatmata started complaining of back pain. Her sister, Batuli Jalloh, knew the baby was due any day, but the two women weren't sure if the pains were the first signs of labor or just aches from a recent fall Fatmata had taken.
Batuli said they decided to be safe and get it checked out. They thought about going to the Wellington Health Center, a large government-run clinic where Fatmata was registered for prenatal care.
But the clinic was about a 30-minute walk away, tough for a nine-months pregnant woman. And taxis are almost impossible to find after dark in their neighborhood, a muddy collection of shacks on a hill overlooking downtown.
A neighbor suggested they go instead to see Elizabeth Cole, a neighborhood nurse who lived just down the road. Batuli said going to her house seemed easier than walking all the way to the clinic.
The sisters walked in the darkness down the street, which, like much of the capital, is lighted at night by a few oil lamps casting an orange glow in darkened doorways. They passed dirt-floor tin shacks where, during the day, people sell cellphone cards, peppers and tomatoes, and meat crawling with flies.
About 10:30 p.m., they arrived at the muddy alley to Cole's one-story, concrete house. Cole led Fatmata into her birthing room, a tiny cubicle with a sagging cot covered with yellow, heavy plastic sheeting.
Fatmata lay down next to a white wall filthy from age and dirt, in a stuffy and hot room where Cole said she has delivered at least 300 babies. The house has no running water. By Cole's account, Fatmata was far into labor when she arrived: "She almost delivered on her way in the door."
There was no time or transportation to take Fatmata to the clinic or to the larger Princess Christian Maternity Hospital, Cole said later. So she delivered the baby herself, and Fatmata's son was born, without apparent problems, at 11:35.
Fatmata's husband, Saidu, was summoned, and he had a cup of tea with his wife while they held their new baby. Then he went home, and Fatmata fell asleep on the birthing cot, with her sister Batuli sleeping nearby.
At 4 a.m., Batuli said, Fatmata woke with severe abdominal pains and was bleeding heavily. Cole said she tried to stop the flow, but she had no medication or equipment to stanch the hemorrhaging. She gave Fatmata a cup of tea.
"I don't do complications here," Cole said.
