| Page 4 of 5 < > |
A Mother's Final Look at Life
![[Map: Sierra Leone]](http://media3.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/graphic/2008/10/12/GR2008101200180.gif)
TOOLBOX
   Resize
COMMENT
 Discussion Policy
 CLOSE
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
Who's Blogging  |
The hospital's main maternity ward is a small beige room with half a dozen small examining rooms behind floral curtains. The examining tables are tattered and stained, and insects and rain fly in the open windows.
One recent day, the corpses of three stillborn babies, wrapped in their mothers' clothes, lay on a table for hours waiting to be buried. An overhead fan pushed the hot air around weakly, carrying whiffs of urine and the unmistakable odor of death, which leaves a bitter taste in the back of the throat.
"Do you see what we are facing here?" Sidique said. "For us, this is something that is normal."
The nurses trying to save Fatmata's life realized she was severely anemic and had lost too much blood. Saidu told them she had not been taking her prenatal vitamins, and she had also been fasting during the day for three weeks in observance of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.
The nurses sent Saidu down to the hospital's one-fridge blood bank. Since the fridge was empty as usual, blood bank workers bought a pint of type O-positive from a black marketeer on the street. They quickly screened it for HIV and other diseases, then sold it to Saidu.
Because the hospital has so few supplies, patients are required to pay for all their medications and blood -- and surgery. That can add up to $200 to $300, which is several months' wages for many. Local nurses with slim qualifications charge much less.
The maternity ward nurses hung the blood bag and pushed an IV needle into Fatmata's wrist. Head nurse Hawa Fofanah recalled that the blood dripped into the plastic tube, but Fatmata's body didn't absorb it; her heart had stopped pumping.
By candlelight, with a hot, slashing rain dripping in the open window, Fofanah tried chest compressions to revive the dying teenager.
But at 7:14 a.m., Fofanah pronounced Fatmata dead.
Fofanah, who had been working all night, shook her head afterward in weary frustration.
"If she had come here sooner, she would have lived," she said.
An hour after Fatmata died, nurses wrapped her in brightly colored cloths. They had been her clothes when she arrived; now they were her shroud.
