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"Ein gewöhnliches Mädchen, das zu einem außergewöhnlichen Gott Ja gesagt hat": Einheimischer aus Bedford findet sein Zuhause in Uganda

    Alissa Smith 26. September 2017

Vor 10 Jahren startete eine Bedford-Frau ein Ernährungsprogramm in Uganda. Jetzt hat sie Afrika unter dem Vorwurf ihrer Arbeit verlassen.

Als die aus Bedford stammende Renee Bach im September 2007 in Uganda ankam, war sie allein.

Die 18-Jährige war sehr spät in der Nacht in Uganda gelandet, nur um festzustellen, dass ihre organisierte Fahrt vom Flughafen nirgends zu finden war.

Die Bauarbeiten hatten das Flugzeug gezwungen, auf einer Landebahn zu landen, wo sie in einem nahe gelegenen Zelt einreisen musste. Diese Erfahrung, gepaart mit der Zunahme der Schusswaffen und der rustikalen Atmosphäre, veranlasste Bach, ihre Entscheidung, sich freiwillig für eine lokale Kinderorganisation zu melden, in Frage zu stellen.

"Ich bin wie" Ich bin aus dem kleinen Bedford und ich weiß nichts über das Leben hier und ich wurde wirklich spät in der Nacht am Flughafen verlassen ", sagte sie. „Ich sitze nur auf dem Parkplatz und wurde dann mit zufälligen Leuten an verschiedenen Orten abgeholt, bevor ich in die Stadt kam, in die ich gehen wollte.“

Das war ihre erste und nervenaufreibende Erfahrung in Uganda, sagte sie.

"Aber sehr schnell danach habe ich gelernt, es super zu lieben."

So sehr, dass Renee Bach etwas mehr als ein Jahr später endgültig aufs Land zog.

***

Monate vor dieser ersten Landung in Uganda hatte sie die High School ohne eine Ahnung, was sie mit ihrem Leben anfangen wollte, abgeschlossen.

Sie war immer an einer Art Freiwilligendienst beteiligt gewesen, von Missionsreisen auf dem Land in der Highschool bis zur Arbeit auf der Farm ihrer Familie, Many Blessings Farm, und half dabei, die gemeinnützige Hypotherapie-Praxis der Farm zu leiten.

Hypotherapie ist eine Art von Therapie, bei der mit Pferden gearbeitet wird, von denen es 15 waren, sagte Bach. Die Farm betreibt keine Hypotherapie mehr, aber es gibt immer noch zwei Pferde : Solomon (23) und Promise (15).

Sie sei auch seit Jahren eine Kinderpflegerin und habe Kinder geliebt, sagte sie, und als sie überlegte, was sie mit ihrem selbst beschriebenen „Jahr der Lücke“ anfangen sollte, dachte sie sofort an Kinder.

"Ich war daran interessiert, vielleicht in einem Waisenhaus zu arbeiten, was ich für gewöhnlich halte. Wenn man nicht viel über die internationale Welt weiß und Kinder denkt, denkt man‚ Oh, Waisenhaus '", sagte sie.

Nach einigen Recherchen bewarb sie sich bei Amani Baby Cottage, einem Babyheim, das laut seiner Website für verwaiste, verlassene und bedürftige Kinder sorgt.

"Ich hatte noch nie wirklich von Uganda gehört oder viel darüber", sagte sie. „Es ist wie in einem winzigen kleinen Land. … Ich wusste anfangs nicht viel darüber und kannte niemanden, der schon einmal dort gewesen war, aber ich machte einfach einen Vertrauenssprung und hatte das Gefühl, dass der Herr mich dorthin rief, wo ich hingehen soll. “

Monate später befand sie sich in Jinja, Uganda.

Es war eine 10-monatige Reise, für die sie ihren Pass bekommen hatte, sagte Bachs Mutter Lauri Bach.

Doch als sie wieder in Bedford war, war Renee Bach, inzwischen 28, nicht sicher, ob sie jemals nach Uganda zurückkehren würde.

"Ich glaube, diese Erfahrung hat mehr dazu geführt, dass ich mich als Erwachsener wiedergefunden habe, als alles, was ich für andere getan habe", sagte sie. "... Ich habe Uganda auf jeden Fall sehr geliebt, aber ich wollte nicht einfach zurückgehen und herumtollen."

Sie würde zurückgehen, wenn es der Plan des Herrn war, entschied sie, aber nicht, wenn es ihr eigener Wunsch war.

Im Sommer 2008 kehrte sie nach Virginia zurück und arbeitete als Sportdirektorin bei Camp Virginia Jaycee Inc., einer gemeinnützigen Organisation mit Sitz in Bedford, die sich um Kinder und Erwachsene mit besonderen Bedürfnissen kümmert. Aber am Ende des Sommers hatte sich etwas geändert.

"Ich hatte das Gefühl, dass es ziemlich klar war, mit Menschen zu sprechen, die viel älter und klüger waren als ich und wirklich darüber nachzudenken, was ich mit meinem Leben anfangen wollte, dass ich zurückkehren sollte", sagte sie.

Sie sah sich einige Unternehmen an, für die sie zuvor gearbeitet hatte, aber nichts ragte heraus.

Also hat sie ihre eigene angefangen.

"In diesem Moment hatte ich wirklich das Gefühl, dass in dieser Community ein Bedarf besteht, der noch nicht erfüllt ist, und dass ich vielleicht ein Teil davon sein kann", sagte sie.

Serving His Children (SHC) ist eine gemeinnützige Organisation gemäß 501 (c) (3), die den Kreislauf der Mangelernährung in Familien und Gemeinden durch Aufklärung, Behandlung, Verwaltung und Verteilung von Ressourcen beendet.

Die Organisation startete ursprünglich als Ernährungsprogramm, das Kindern Nahrung lieferte, aber bald tauchten unterernährte Kinder am Tor des Zentrums in Masese auf, einem „Slum“ in Jinja, sagte Bach.

„Und ich fand es so seltsam, weil ich vorher noch nie wirklich Mangelernährung gesehen hatte und dachte:‚ Was passiert? Das ist so seltsam.'

„Nachdem wir also gesehen hatten, dass ungefähr 12 unterernährte Kinder durchgekommen waren und wir sie in verschiedene Krankenhäuser gebracht hatten und schlechte Erfahrungen damit gemacht hatten, dass sie selbst mäßig behandelt und betreut wurden, entschieden wir, dass dies ein Bereich ist, den der Herr uns zeigt Es besteht ein riesiger Bedarf, und vielleicht sollten wir uns darauf konzentrieren. “

Nach einer Probezeit bei unterernährten Kindern wurde SHC erneut als Rehabilitationszentrum bei der ugandischen Regierung registriert.

Fünf Jahre später wächst SHC schnell. Lauri Bach sagte, dass es ungefähr 25.000 USD gekostet habe, sein gesamtes erstes Jahr zu laufen, und dass es jetzt ungefähr 17.000 USD pro Monat kostet.

Richard Hart, Bachs ehemaliger Jugendpastor und ehemaliges SHC-Vorstandsmitglied, sagte, er sei nicht überrascht, als Bach eine Organisation wie SHC gründete.

"Sie wusste, dass sie etwas bewirken wollte und begann zu erkennen, dass es nicht so sehr sie, sondern Gott in ihr und durch sie war, und fing an, daran zu glauben", sagte er. "Also hat sie darauf reagiert, wo diejenigen von uns sie beobachteten, die einen Einfluss auf ihr Leben hatten ... es war für uns so offensichtlich, dass Gott etwas in ihrem Herzen tat."

Hart sagte, dass einige Menschen auf Missionsreisen gehen oder humanitäre Arbeit für die Anerkennung leisten, aber er hätte nie gedacht, dass Bach einer von ihnen ist. Stattdessen bewundert Hart Bachs Demut als "sie fördert sich nicht selbst", sagte er und lobte ihre "Lehrbarkeit". Hart meinte mit "Lehrbarkeit" Bachs Fähigkeit, sich an alle Bedürfnisse anzupassen, die sie in Uganda entdeckte, wie zum Beispiel den Wechsel von SHC zu SHC Fütterungsorganisation zu einer, die sich auf Unterernährung konzentriert.

"Ein junges Mädchen aus dem ländlichen Virginia, das in Uganda einen so großen Unterschied macht und dann all die Jahre dabei bleibt, ist ein echter Beweis für ihr Herz, ihren Charakter und die Demut, die sie hat", sagte er sagte.

Die Organisation ist so etwas wie ein Familienunternehmen, in dem Bachs Verwandte eine Rolle spielen. Ihre Mutter ist die US-amerikanische Direktorin von SHC, und ihre Schwester, Eileen, 22, arbeitet von Zeit zu Zeit mit dem Marketing- und Social-Media-Team der Organisation zusammen.

Bach sagte jedoch, die Mehrheit der Angestellten seien Ugander, weil sie der Meinung sind, dass Ugander fähig sind und keinen „weißen Retter“ brauchen.

„Es ist eine echte Sache. Es gibt Menschen, die dorthin gehen und wahrscheinlich das tun, was sie für sich selbst tun, und die Selbstbefriedigung, wenn sie Menschen helfen, die ‚kleiner als 'oder superarm sind, oder Waisenkindern helfen“, sagte sie. „… Ich denke, wir Amerikaner denken allzu oft:‚ Oh, na ja, sie sind einfach unfähig. Also helfen wir diesen Leuten besser. '

"Ich denke, das ist die Denkweise vieler Menschen, und ich würde wahrscheinlich sagen, dass selbst ich ein bisschen von dieser Denkweise hatte, als ich zum ersten Mal ging, wie" Oh, vielleicht können sie es einfach nicht tun ", sagte sie . "Aber sie können, und ich habe definitiv sehr schnell gelernt, dass ich hier definitiv nicht gebraucht werde."

Und SHC spiegelt diese letztere Überzeugung wider, sagte sie mit dem Ziel, die Notwendigkeit der Organisation eines Tages vollständig auslaufen zu lassen.

"Wir glauben wirklich an Ugander", sagte sie. „Wir glauben, dass sie für sich selbst sorgen können und die besten Leute für diesen Job sind. Wer könnte einer Gemeinschaft besser dienen als jemand, der von dort kommt, der die Sprache sprechen kann, der sich auf die genauen Probleme beziehen kann, von denen jemand ihnen erzählt?

"Ich meine, ich kann nicht."

***

Bach, der kürzlich in Bedford war, um Familie zu besuchen und Geld für die letzte Kampagne der Organisation zu sammeln, sagte, sie erinnere sich genau an den Moment, als sie sich in Uganda verliebte.

Es waren ein paar Tage bis zu ihrer ersten Reise. Es waren 65 Kinder im Waisenhaus und nur eine Handvoll "Tanten", Frauen, die angeheuert wurden, um sich um die Kinder zu kümmern.

Kulturell gesehen „nehmen Ugander nicht für ihren Nachbarn auf“, sagte Bach, weil die meisten Menschen gerade genug Ressourcen für sich haben.

„Aber als ich sah, dass sich die Damen wirklich um die Kinder kümmerten, in denen sie sich befanden - die meisten von ihnen befanden sich in einer wirklich unglücklichen Situation und mussten abwechselnd betreut werden das wird uns vielleicht niemals danken können. '“

Und es half ihr zu sehen, wie Ugander wirklich waren, sagte sie.

„Und während meiner gesamten Zeit dort in den letzten acht Jahren habe ich das immer wieder gesehen. Und es ist nur eine Darstellung von Menschen, die selbstlos andere Menschen lieben und für sie sorgen, selbst wenn sie kulturell gesehen die Welt dort und die Gemeinschaft dort sind. Sie müssen sich nicht wirklich um diese Person kümmern. "

Diese Haltung habe Bach dazu inspiriert, selbstloser zu lieben, sagte sie.

Monate nachdem sie dauerhaft nach Uganda gezogen war, stellte sie diese Lektion auf die Probe.

Im Oktober 2009 fand Bachs Nachbarin ein verlassenes zehn Tage altes Mädchen und gab sie Bach, da sie nicht wusste, was sie sonst tun sollte.

Um das kleine Mädchen im SHC-Zentrum zu behalten, müsse Bach als Pflegeelternteil gemeldet werden, sagte sie. Sie tat dies mit der Absicht, die Mutter des kleinen Mädchens zu finden und sie bei der Familie unterzubringen.

Aber es hat nicht so geklappt. Die Mutter des kleinen Mädchens starb kurz nachdem Bach sie einen Monat später gefunden hatte. Ohne andere lebende oder bekannte Verwandte hatte das Mädchen keine Familie, bei der es sich unterbringen ließ. Nachdem Bach keine Adoptivfamilie gefunden hatte, wusste er, was der Herr ihr sagte, sagte sie.

"Da habe ich nur - ich liebe offensichtlich Selah und wollte sie egoistisch behalten, wusste aber nicht, ob das die klügste Wahl für sie oder für mich ist", sagte Bach. "Aber ich habe viel Zeit damit verbracht, darüber zu beten und mit vielen verschiedenen Leuten über Adoption gesprochen ... und mich entschieden, sie selbst zu adoptieren."

Selah Grace, 8, und Bach wurden im März 2015 offiziell zur Familie, sagte Bach - Selah aus den Büchern der Psalmen, was "Lob den Herrn" bedeutet, und Grace, weil Selah ein unerwarteter Segen war, sagte Lauri Bach.

Selah ist eine Liebhaberin von heißer Schokolade und Kaffee. Sie hat gerade ihre dritte Klasse an einer internationalen Schule in Uganda begonnen und wurde im Januar US-Staatsbürgerin. Sie liebt es, mit Bach samstags Kaffee zu trinken und ins Schwimmbad zu gehen. Sie hasst Zucchini, liebt Makkaroni und Käse und spricht sowohl Englisch als auch Luganda, eine der Hauptsprachen in Uganda. Sie kennt auch zwei Dialekte, Soga und Lugwala.

Selah beschreibt ihre Mutter als „interessant“, jemanden, der immer die Gelegenheit nutzt, die Hochzeit eines Freundes zu planen, und Eis liebt.

Lauri Bach sagte, sie wisse sofort, dass Selah ihre Enkelin sei. Obwohl Bachs Vater bezweifelte, dass eine 20-jährige alleinstehende Frau, die in einem fremden Land lebt, ein Kind adoptieren sollte, sagte Lauri Bach, er könne Selahs Charme nicht widerstehen und gab schnell nach.

„Als ich sie traf, war Selah mit Renee zum Flughafen [in Uganda] gekommen, um Eileen und mich abzuholen, und als ich sie hielt - ich weine immer - als ich sie hielt, war es so, wie der Herr sagte: 'Lauri, das ist deine Enkelin. ' Obwohl diese Entscheidung nicht getroffen worden war, war mir so unglaublich klar, dass sie unsere Enkelin war und das war es auch schon “, sagte Lauri Bach.

Lauri Bach beschreibt ihre Tochter als jemanden, der einen Job sieht und erledigen möchte, bis alles andere aufhört und Bachs Vision scheinbar schrumpft, um nur die bevorstehende Herausforderung zu meistern.

"Renee ist wirklich nur ein gewöhnliches Mädchen, das zu einem außergewöhnlichen Gott Ja gesagt hat", sagte sie. „… Es ist bescheiden zu sehen, wie deine Tochter Tausende von Leben rettet. Natürlich sind wir stolz auf die Arbeit, die sie leistet, aber meistens denke ich, dass ihr Vater und ich einfach stolz auf die Person sind, die sie ist. “

Obwohl Bach in Bedford geboren wurde, hat sie einen anderen Blickwinkel, wenn sie an zu Hause denkt.

Es ist ein großes Gebiet außerhalb des früheren Zentrums von Serving His Children's, über dem Selah und Bach fünf Jahre lang gelebt haben. Tische und Stühle standen auf der Veranda.

"Jeden Abend saßen wir [zusammen], ob wir fünf Patienten und fünf Mütter hatten oder 40 Patienten und 40 Mütter, wir haben uns alle auf unserer Veranda vollgestopft und zu Abend gegessen", sagte Bach. „Und das sind meine liebsten Tageszeiten, weil ich denke, als kleines Kind, das in einer großen Familie aufwuchs, war die Abendessenzeit immer etwas, für das wir alle anwesend waren. … Uns wurde immer beigebracht, wie wichtig es ist, als Familie zusammenzusitzen und Kontakte zu knüpfen.

"... Und so mit Selah als meiner Familie zusammenzusitzen und mit 30, 40, 50 anderen Menschen auf unserer Veranda jeden Abend zu Abend zu essen, ist definitiv eine meiner schönsten Erinnerungen an Uganda und für mich das Bild von zu Hause."

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Der amerikanische Artikel ist vom September 2017. Die NZZ bringt jetzt einen Artikel über die amerikanische Tusse, die in dem amerikanischen Artikel beschrieben ist. In dem Artikel steht ganz am Anfang "Vor 10 Jahren startete eine Bedford-Frau ein Ernährungsprogramm in Uganda. Jetzt hat sie Afrika unter dem Vorwurf ihrer Arbeit verlassen." Sonst nichts. Warum nicht? Warum kommt die NZZ 2 Jahre später?


https://www.nzz.ch/international/wenn-weisse-afrika-retten-wollen-ld.1508637

«NZZ Digital»: Das neue Deutschland-Abo. Zum Angebot
Die Kanadierin Ashley Laverty arbeitete 2010 einige Monate in dem ugandischen Waisenheim, gegen deren Betreiberin nun Anklage erhoben wurde. Später sagte sie aus, diese habe unterernährte Kinder trotz fehlender medizinischer Ausbildung selbst behandelt. (Bild: Tadej Znidarcic/ Redux)

Wenn Weisse Afrika retten wollen

Eine amerikanische Highschool-Absolventin will in Uganda unterernährten Kindern helfen. Nun ist sie wegen des Todes von zwei Säuglingen angeklagt. Das Beispiel zeigt: Gut gemeint ist oft nicht gut genug. «Hilfseinsätze» von Freiwilligen können sogar schaden.
Fabian Urech
16.9.2019, 06:30 Uhr

Als die 18-jährige Amerikanerin Renee Bach zum ersten Mal nach Uganda reiste, wusste sie nichts über das ostafrikanische Land. Sie wusste nur, dass sie helfen wollte, am liebsten in einem Waisenhaus. Sie habe Kinder gemocht und sei überzeugt gewesen, dass sie «der Herr dorthin rief», sagte die Highschool-Absolventin der Lokalzeitung ihrer Heimatstadt in Virginia.

Doch es sollte nicht bei dem zehnmonatigen Freiwilligeneinsatz bleiben. Sie habe bald gemerkt, wie gross die Not sei und wie sehr sie das Land liebe. Bach gründete im Jahr 2010 ihre eigene NGO, Serving His Children. Anfangs unterstützte die christliche Organisation in der Kleinstadt Jinja bedürftige Familien mit kostenlosen Mahlzeiten. Später leistete sie – trotz fehlender Bewilligung – auch medizinische Hilfe und versorgte Kinder mit schwerer Mangelernährung. «Der Herr zeigte uns, dass wir helfen sollten», erklärte Bach vor einigen Jahren.
Das «Bauchgefühl» als Ratgeber

Diese Mission nahm sich die junge Amerikanerin offenbar so sehr zu Herzen, dass sie bei der Betreuung der oft schwer mangelernährten Kinder bald auch selbst Hand anlegte. Gemäss Medienberichten gab sie Medikamente aus, legte Infusionen und führte Bluttransfusionen durch. Im Jahr 2011 notierte Bach in einen mittlerweile gelöschten Blogbeitrag: «Ich habe Temperatur und Herzschlag gemessen, eine Infusion begonnen, den Blutzucker überprüft, auf Malaria getestet.»

Das Problem: Bach verfügt über keinerlei medizinische Ausbildung. Sie habe sich, erzählte ein ehemaliger Mitarbeiter, auf einen tropenmedizinischen Ratgeber («Where There Is No Doctor») sowie auf ihr Bauchgefühl verlassen. Gott würde sie wissen lassen, was sie für die Kinder tun müsse, habe sie geglaubt.

Mehrere Jahre lang blieb Bachs hochstaplerisches Wirken unerkannt. Nun aber haben zwei Mütter in Uganda Klage gegen die Amerikanerin eingereicht. Sie machen sie für den Tod ihrer Kinder verantwortlich, die in Bachs Organisation betreut wurden. In der Anklageschrift wird der heute 35-Jährigen vorgeworfen, medizinische Behandlungen in über hundert Fällen selbst durchgeführt und sich als Ärztin ausgegeben zu haben.

Bach wies gegenüber amerikanischen Medien die Vorwürfe zurück, gab aber zu, Krankenpflegerinnen bei ihrer Arbeit unterstützt zu haben. Ihr Anwalt sprach von «Reputationsterrorismus». Im Januar soll das ugandische Gericht ein Urteil fällen.
Debatte über «white saviors»

Der Fall hat in den USA eine mediale Debatte ausgelöst über ein Phänomen, das der nigerianische Schriftsteller Teju Cole vor einigen Jahren als «Weisse-Retter-Industrie» bezeichnete. Gemeint ist das gerade unter jungen, weissen und finanziell privilegierten Menschen verbreitete Bedürfnis, im fernen Afrika «etwas zu verändern». Mit guten Absichten, aber ohne spezifische Qualifikationen im Gepäck, reisen jährlich Tausende von Freiwilligen auf den Kontinent, um in Schulen, Waisenhäusern oder bei Naturschutzprojekten während einiger Wochen oder Monate «zu helfen». Viele tun dies laut Cole in der Überzeugung, dass «die Probleme der Welt allein mit Enthusiasmus gelöst werden können».

Die Geschichte von Renee Bach erinnert daran, dass die Realität ungleich komplexer ist. Tobias Denskus, ein Experte für Entwicklungskommunikation an der Universität Malmö, hat den Fall der jungen Amerikanerin eng verfolgt. Für ihn ist Bach ein Extrembeispiel, das stark mit der fehlenden Selbstreflexion in christlichen Missionarskreisen der USA zusammenhängt.

Gleichwohl werfe der Fall ein Schlaglicht auf andere freiwillige «Hilfseinsätze» in Entwicklungsländern, die sich auch in Europa grosser Beliebtheit erfreuen. Das Grundmotiv, das viele dieser sogenannten «weissen Retter» («white saviors») antreibe, sei im Wesentlichen das gleiche wie bei Bach: «Es ist die Annahme, dass dort nichts ist und nichts funktioniert. Und dass also gilt: Egal, was ich mache, es ist besser als nichts.»

Wie zahlreiche andere Entwicklungsexperten ist Denskus überzeugt, dass diese Art von vermeintlicher «Entwicklungshilfe» oft mehr schadet als nützt. Man müsse die Frage, was junge, unqualifizierte Freiwillige in einem fremden Land innert weniger Wochen zur nachhaltigen Entwicklung beitragen können, ehrlich beantworten: «In den meisten Fällen sehr wenig.»

Den verbreiteten Glauben, in Afrika mit einfachen Mitteln und ohne Vorkenntnisse helfen zu können, führt Denskus auch auf ein verzerrtes Bild zurück: «Viele Medien und Hilfsorganisationen zeigen ein klischiertes, negatives Abziehbild des Kontinents, das um Jahrzehnte veraltet ist.» Afrikanerinnen und Afrikaner würden dabei oft als dringend Hilfsbedürftige dargestellt, die ausserstande seien, ihre eigenen Probleme zu lösen. In diesem Verständnis des Kontinents, schreibt der Journalist Alex Perry, verkämen die Menschen in Afrika zu «eindimensionalen Objekten, die darauf warten, dass freundliche Ausländer sie retten oder ihre Lage verbessern».
Widerstand in Afrika

Der hilflose Afrikaner auf der einen Seite, der strahlende weisse Retter auf der anderen: Gegen dieses Bild formiert sich längst auch in afrikanischen Staaten Widerstand. Bestes Beispiel dafür ist die Online-Kampagne «No White Saviors», die von der Uganderin Olivia Alaso und der Amerikanerin Kelsey Nielsen angeführt wird. Die beiden Frauen waren – in unterschiedlichen Rollen – früher selbst in einem Hilfswerk tätig. Heute kämpfen sie für eine Veränderung in der Missionars- und Entwicklungszusammenarbeit. Ihre Kernbotschaft: «Gute Absichten allein reichen nicht.»

Die Überzeugung, Probleme auf der anderen Seite der Welt bewältigen zu können, obwohl einem diese zu Hause niemals anvertraut würden, sei typisch für die «white saviors», schreibt die Organisation. Schädliche Hilfe dürfe nicht mit dem guten Willen entschuldigt werden. Um die Helfer und deren emotionale Befriedigung dürfe es nicht gehen. «Afrika ist kein Spielplatz, um sich selbst zu finden.»

Auch Teju Cole glaubt, dass es bei diesen kurzen «Hilfseinsätzen» kaum je um die Bedürftigen geht. «Es geht um eine grosse emotionale Erfahrung, durch die die eigenen Privilegien bestätigt werden.» Afrika biete, so schreibt der Autor, einen Raum, «auf den man bequem sein weisses Ego projizieren kann».
Das Geschäft mit dem Helfersyndrom

In vielen Ländern Europas ist diese Kritik ausserhalb von Fachkreisen noch kaum angekommen. Freiwilligeneinsätze in Entwicklungsländern erfreuen sich grosser Beliebtheit. Der sogenannte Voluntourismus, eine Kombination aus kurzzeitiger Freiwilligenarbeit und Erlebnisreise, hat sich in den vergangenen Jahren gar zu einem wachsenden Trend entwickelt.

Verschiedene kommerzielle Reisebüros und Anbieter von Sprachreisen haben entsprechende Freiwilligeneinsätze, die üblicherweise zwischen zwei Wochen und drei Monaten dauern, in ihr Angebot aufgenommen. Weil die Volontäre für ihre Einsätze meist einen nicht unerheblichen Betrag bezahlen, ist das ein lukrativer Geschäftszweig. Allein in Deutschland sollen jährlich bis zu 25 000 Personen im Rahmen solcher Freiwilligeneinsätze in Entwicklungsländer reisen.

Viele klassische Entwicklungsorganisationen betrachten diesen Trend mit Sorge. «Die freiwilligen Kurzeinsätze von Unqualifizierten haben mit professioneller Entwicklungszusammenarbeit wenig zu tun», sagt Fernanda Gurzeler von Unité, dem Schweizer Verband für Personelle Entwicklungszusammenarbeit. Zur nachhaltigen Entwicklung vor Ort trügen sie in den wenigsten Fällen bei. Zudem seien sie für die Freiwilligen nicht selten frustrierend. «Es kann schon vorkommen, dass man eine Wand streicht, die vor einigen Wochen bereits von den letzten unqualifizierten Volontären gestrichen wurde.»

Gewisse Angebote seien zudem grundsätzlich zu hinterfragen, sagt Gurzeler. Zum Beispiel entspreche die Kinderbetreuung durch Volontäre kaum einem Bedürfnis der Entwicklungszusammenarbeit. Für diese Aktivität gebe es am Einsatzort qualifizierte Einheimische. «In der Schweiz würden wir eine Person aus einem anderen Land ohne spezifische Qualifikationen auch nicht für ein paar Wochen in einer Kita einsetzen.»

Gemäss einer Studie verschiedener Hilfswerke aus dem Jahr 2018 ist aber just die Kinderbetreuung ein Hauptbestandteil vieler Voluntourismus-Projekte. Von 50 analysierten Angeboten im deutschsprachigen Raum umfassten über 40 eine Zusammenarbeit mit Kindern. Eine Kinderschutzstrategie oder spezifische Kinderschutzmassnahmen konnten die meisten Programme nicht vorweisen. Hinzu kommt, dass die Eignung und die Motivation der Volontäre oft kaum überprüft werden. Einen Lebenslauf oder ein Motivationsschreiben müssen sie bei den wenigsten Anbietern einreichen, Bewerbungsgespräche finden praktisch nie statt.
Australien erlässt Voluntourismus-Verbot

Der Schluss liegt nahe, dass es sich kommerzielle Anbieter zunutze machen, dass viele Standards, die in der professionellen Entwicklungszusammenarbeit längst Courant normal sind, sich im Voluntourismus noch kaum etabliert haben.

Besonders in den Fokus gerückt sind in diesem Zusammenhang kurze Freiwilligeneinsätze in angeblichen Waisenhäusern. Weil Voluntourismus-Angebote in solchen Heimen besonders beliebt waren, ist ihre Anzahl in gewissen Ländern Afrikas und Asiens in den letzten Jahren regelrecht explodiert. Mit den Bedürfnissen der Betroffenen hatte das aber in den meisten Fällen wenig zu tun. Vielmehr haben die Betreiber gemerkt, dass sich mit dem Betrieb solcher Institutionen gutes Geld verdienen lässt. Und dass kaum einer fragt, ob es sich bei den Kindern tatsächlich um Waisen handelt. Untersuchungen in Ländern wie Kambodscha, Liberia und Sri Lanka zeigten, dass über 80 Prozent der Kinder in dortigen Waisenhäusern noch Eltern hatten. Diese hatten sie dorthin gebracht, weil sie auf eine gute Bildung und Versorgung ihrer Kinder hofften. Nicht selten erhielten sie dafür sogar Geld.

Das zeigt: Voluntourismus ist im Bereich der Kinderbetreuung nicht nur aus pädagogischer Sicht fragwürdig, sondern kann im schlimmsten Fall sogar Kinderhandel und Kindesmissbrauch fördern.

In Australien, wo entsprechende Freiwilligeneinsätze bei jungen Highschool-Abgängern während Jahren hoch im Kurs gestanden hatten, hat dieser Missstand im vergangenen Herbst gar zu einem Verbot von Kurzeinsätzen in Waisenhäusern im Ausland geführt. Das Gesetz – das erste seiner Art überhaupt – folgte auf eine Kampagne einer breiten zivilgesellschaftlichen Allianz, der auch verschiedene NGO aus der Entwicklungszusammenarbeit angehörten.

Die australische Senatorin Linda Reynolds (heute Verteidigungsministerin), die sich für das Verbot starkmachte, wies auf die perfide List hin, die hinter solchen Voluntourismus-Angeboten stehe. Sie machten junge Leute mit hehren Absichten glauben, etwas Gutes zu tun, was sich zudem prima in den sozialen Netzwerken mit Freunden teilen lasse. Tatsächlich aber landeten sie oft in Institutionen, die Missbrauch und Kinderhandel förderten. Das mache, so Reynolds, den Voluntourismus zum «perfekten Betrug des 21. Jahrhunderts».
Eine junge nigerianische Anwältin auf dem Weg zum Gericht. (Bild: Tom Saater)
Afrika ist mehr als arm und hungernd: Der Instagram-Account «everydayafrica» zeigt eine Wirklichkeit fernab der Stereotype
Ein Fotografenkollektiv hat genug vom eindimensionalen Afrika-Bild, das von westlichen Medien übermittelt wird. Mit seiner Arbeit gibt es Einblick in einen afrikanische Alltag voller farbiger, heiterer Beiläufigkeit.
Fabian Urech 19.1.2019, 05:30
Bilder aus Biafra prägten das Afrika-Bild einer ganzen Generation. (Bild: Dennis Lee Royle / AP)
Als Afrika in unseren Köpfen zum «Katastrophen-Kontinent» wurde
Vor fünfzig Jahren wurde in Nigeria die unabhängige Republik Biafra ausgerufen. Im darauffolgenden Sezessionskrieg starben Hunderttausende, viele an Hunger. Bis heute prägen die damaligen Schreckensbilder das westliche Bild Afrikas als Kontinent der Krisen und des Scheiterns.
Fabian Urech 30.5.2017, 09:56
Meine NZZ

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[Trokklarline]

Warum die Australier Voluntourismus verboten haben, ist in dem Artikel der NZZ bloss angedeutet. Die ABCNEWS geht näher auf die Umstände in dem Betrieb der Evangelikalen in Uganda ein.

https://abcnews.go.com/International/renee-bach-doctor-treated-patients-uganda-lawsuit/story?id=63930370

Renee Bach wasn't a doctor, but she still treated many patients in Uganda, lawsuit says

    By
    morgan winsor

LONDON — Jul 18, 2019, 4:38 AM ET

PHOTO: Renee Bach is pictured in Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018.
Emily Coffey
WATCH News headlines today: Sept. 20, 2019

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Renee Bach was still a teenager when she left her small hometown in rural Virginia and moved halfway across the world to Uganda, after spending just 10 months there on a mission trip.

She set up a Christian nonprofit, Serving His Children, in southeast Uganda in 2009, first providing free meals to families in need, then offering free inpatient and outpatient treatment for malnourished children as well as community engagement programs aimed at breaking the cycle of malnutrition. The organization's website is peppered with Bible verses, appeals for donations and images of Ugandan children, many with the telltale signs of severe malnutrition: sunken eyes, protruding ribs and bloated bellies.

"At the time, I didn't even know that malnutrition was a huge problem in Uganda," Bach, 30, told ABC News in a recent telephone interview. "That wasn't something I had been exposed to. It definitely wasn't the plan initially."

Serving His Children, which works with local doctors and nurses, claims to have successfully treated thousands of malnourished children in the region's rural, impoverished communities over the past several years. Success stories and transformation photos of young patients are featured on the organization's website and social media pages.

But a lawsuit filled with sweeping accusations that was filed in Uganda earlier this year tells a different story, claiming that Bach, who has no formal medical training, diagnosed and treated children while running an unlicensed medical facility there, leading to the deaths of "hundreds of children."

The court documents, obtained by ABC News, detail a litany of complaints against Bach and Serving His Children, with statements from two mothers whose children died as well as affidavits from former employees and volunteers. Among the allegations against Bach are performing medical procedures such as blood transfusions and inserting intravenous catheters, disregarding sanitary protocols and attempting to diagnose patients who showed symptoms frequently related to serious illnesses like HIV and AIDS.
PHOTO: A sign advertising the Serving His Children nutrition unit at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018. Emily Coffey
A sign advertising the Serving His Children nutrition unit at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018.

One former volunteer stated in her affidavit that Bach allegedly "frequently wore a stethoscope around her neck" and "was aware" she was known in the community as the "white doctor." The person claimed that Bach based her treatment on her "gut feelings," relied heavily on the book "Where There Is No Doctor" and "did not follow orders of any local medical professional."

Bach's attorney, David Gibbs, has vehemently denied the "nonsensical" allegations and maintained that his client is "innocent." Gibbs, who is president of the National Center for Life and Liberty, a Florida-based Christian legal advocacy group, said his client's organization provides "quality care meeting national guidelines and under the supervision of the Uganda Ministry of Health."

"This hurts Renee, obviously, and what she's done with Serving His Children," the attorney told ABC News in a recent telephone interview. "But the ultimate victims in this are the malnourished children in Uganda that aren't able to receive services when these types of lies and misinformation are put forward, and it is very disruptive and it's very unfortunate."

In a statement released late last month, Gibbs said Bach "worked alongside Ugandan medical professionals" where she "learned skills to help provide assistance as necessary." He also maintained that she "never represented herself as a doctor or nurse, but she made nutritional care provided by qualified medical professionals more accessible for families in rural areas."

And Ugandan health officials investigated Bach and Serving His Children earlier this year, finding no evidence that large numbers of children died or that Bach was treating children.
'I feel his life was snatched from my arms'

Bach and Serving His Children are being sued in civil court in Uganda by two mothers who claim their children died because of the care they received from Serving His Children. Their lawsuit was filed in the High Court of Uganda on Jan. 21 by the Women's Probono Initiative, a Kampala-based advocacy group that provides free legal services to women and girls in Uganda.

The Women's Probono Initiative said it is seeking accountability and the enforcement of human rights, as well as monetary damages for the two mothers who lost their children.

"It is unacceptable, narcissistic behavior, for any one, black or white, rich or poor, missionary or angel to pass off as a 'medical practitioner' when they are not," Beatrice Kayaga, a lawyer with the Women's Probono Initiative, said in a statement. "By doing so, they mislead unsuspecting vulnerable members of the public."

The first mother named in the lawsuit, Zubeda Gimbo, said in an affidavit that at some point after her 3-year-old son, Twalali, had been diagnosed as malnourished at a health center, an unnamed woman she says she later learned worked for Serving His Children came to her village in Namutumba district in July 2013 and, along with Tawali's grandmother, brought him to the organization's facility in Jinja district for treatment. Three days later, Gimbo said she received a telephone call that her son had died at the facility. The woman who had taken Gimbo's son returned his body and gave the family 50,000 Ugandan shillings (about $13.50), then left the village before the burial without providing any explanation as to what happened, according to the complaint.

In court documents filed on March 11 in response to the lawsuit, Bach said she wasn't even in the country when Gimbo's child was at Serving His Children's facility, but that he was cared for by a doctor and nurses. Copies of Bach's passport and the organization's patient records, which were included in the court documents, show that Bach was out of the country at the time of his care.

Alonyo Constance Milech, a midwife who has been working as the head nurse at Serving His Children since 2010, said in an affidavit that Twalali suffered from "acute malnutrition associated with severe malaria" and was "given the best care possible."
(MORE: Ebola-stricken boy who became 1st cross-border case in growing outbreak dies)
PHOTO: A nurse attends to children in the Serving His Children nutrition unit at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018. Emily Coffey
A nurse attends to children in the Serving His Children nutrition unit at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018.
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The second mother named in the lawsuit, Annet Kakai, said in an affidavit that she was in her village in Buikwe district in July 2018 when she was introduced to a woman named Fatuma who she says she later learned worked for Serving His Children. Kakai said Fatuma convinced her to take her 1-year-old son, Elijah, to their facility "to feed him so he can grow fat." Kakai said they first went to a medical center where Elijah was diagnosed with tuberculosis. Then they went to the Serving His Children facility in Jinja district where "a white lady," whom Kakai said she later learned was Bach, took her baby and "went into a room with him" for an hour, then returned him to her and said to come back the next day, according to the complaint.

When Kakai returned with Elijah, she said the Serving His Children staff drove them to the government-run Kigandalo Health Center IV in neighboring Mayuge district, where health workers checked her son's weight and gave him milk. Kakai said they were discharged from the health center after two days, without any further instructions or medication for her child. Kakai said the Serving His Children staff drove them back to Jinja district and gave her 2,000 Ugandan shillings (less than $1) to find her way back home, according to the complaint.

In the following days, Kakai said, Elijah became "so weak" that she had to take him to a local hospital where he was given medication but was vomiting, according to the complaint. He died three days later. Kakai said in her affidavit that she "strongly" believes that Bach and the Serving His Children employees of Serving His Children "did something to my child that led to his death."

"I feel his life was snatched from my arms by the actions of Ms. Renee Bach," Kakai said in a statement released by the Women's Probono Initiative. "I hope the court can give me justice."

In an affidavit in response to the Kakai's claims, Bach said no one named Fatuma has ever worked for Serving His Children. Bach said the facility in Jinja district was shuttered at that time and the organization was providing inpatient treatment only at the Kigandalo Health Center IV in Mayuge district. Bach said the child could not have received treatment because there are no records of Kakai's son ever being admitted to facilities either in Jinja or Mayuge, and that Elijah was referred to a hospital where he could be treated for tuberculosis, according to the court documents.
'We did the very best with what we were handed'

Former coworkers said that they witnessed Bach appearing to portray herself as a medical professional, according to the civil lawsuit.

Semei Jolley Kyebanakola said in an affidavit that he worked as an agriculturalist for Serving His Children from 2009 to 2017, during which time he was "aware" that Bach "encouraged mothers to escape" from a children's hospital in Jinja and bring their babies to her facility for treatment instead. Kyebanakola said he assumed Bach was a health worker because she wore a "clinical coat" and "often" had a stethoscope around her neck. He also said he observed her treating children "on a daily basis," according to his affidavit.

In an affidavit filed in response to Kyebanakola's claims, Bach said she never encouraged mothers and their children to escape from hospitals. Bach also said that, as a gardener and later an agriculturist, Kyebanakola had limited contact with children and mothers at the center, and he was "fully aware" she was not a medical worker because she always introduced herself as the organization's program director, according to the court documents.

"I have never represented myself or passed off as a medical professional," Bach stated in her affidavit, "and I have never put on a clinical coat."
(MORE: Ebola-ravaged Congo now hit with 87,000 suspected measles cases, officials say)
PHOTO: In this undated photo, a street scene in Jinja, Uganda is shown. David Poole/Robert Harding via Newscom
In this undated photo, a street scene in Jinja, Uganda is shown.

Charles Olweny said in an affidavit that he worked as a gatekeeper and then field program manager for Serving His Children from 2009 to 2017. Olweny said he and other staff members raised concerns during a meeting with the organization's interim director in May 2017 over Bach's lack of medical qualifications and the allegedly "high death rates" at the facility, after learning from "colleagues from the missionary community" that she was not a trained health worker, according to the court documents.

"She would take blood, offer diagnoses, administer drugs through IVs put on by herself and write prescriptions," Olweny stated in his affidavit.

"I saw several children dying at the facilities," Olweny added. "On average, I would drive at least seven to 10 dead bodies of children back to their villages each week."

Bach told ABC News that Olweny's statements are "completely false" and that he was unhappy with Serving His Children after being laid off due to downsizing in the wake of the Jinja facility's closure.

Bach provided data that showed 119 deaths out of the 3,596 total patients treated by Serving His Children from 2010 through 2018, which is a case fatality rate of 3.3%. According to a 2007 study published by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services' National Institutes of Health, case fatality rates in hospitals treating severe acute malnutrition is 20 to 30% in most developing nations.

"It's hard to talk about that because it's not just a number," Bach told ABC News. "We mourned the loss of every one of those children."

In an affidavit filed in response to Olweny's claims, Bach said that any deaths that occurred at Serving His Children were "normal as a result of severe acute malnutrition at advanced stages or underlying medical conditions complicated by malnutrition." Speaking to ABC News, Bach said there were times when her staff received children who were very ill and needed to be transferred to a hospital for treatment but died on the way there.

"We did the very best with what we were handed," she said, "and sometimes what we were handed was a really rough situation."

In her affidavit, Bach also said that no allegations against herself nor Serving His Children were brought up during the meeting with the interim director in May 2017, while she was out of the country for several months.
(MORE: 'Catastrophic' elephant poaching at Niassa Reserve in Africa reduced to zero, conservationists say)
PHOTO: Children sleep at the Serving His Children nutrition unit at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018. Emily Coffey
Children sleep at the Serving His Children nutrition unit at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018.

Jacqueline Grace Kramlich, an American registered nurse who serves as the executive director at a home healthcare agency, said in an affidavit filed with the civil lawsuit that she started volunteering for Serving His Children in Jinja in August 2011 but quit after four months "due to my inability to remain in such an unethical environment."

Kramlich, who is now working in Washington state, said she observed Bach attempt to diagnose and treat pediatric patients who apparently showed symptoms frequently associated with serious ailments, including severe acute malnutrition, tuberculosis, HIV and AIDS, malaria and heart failure. Kramlich said she saw Bach carry out various procedures without any oversight from a medical doctor, including inserting intravenous catheters, taking blood, administering injections, performing blood transfusions, treating wounds, the prescribing and dosing of various medications, taking vital signs, conducting health assessments, assisting in the labor and delivery of a newborn, and preparing a dead body for burial, according to the court documents.

Kramlich said Bach "frequently administered rehabilitation feeds that were dangerously high in caloric content for fragile children" as well as "large amounts of intravenous fluids to children in fragile states, and many of these children died." Kramlich said, to her knowledge, no death certificates were ever obtained or issued nor were any autopsies performed, according to the court documents.

Kramlich said she rarely saw Bach follow universal precautions and guidelines, such as wearing gloves or washing hands, as she moved from patient to patient, according to the court documents.

"When I asked what she based her treatments on, she stated she relied heavily on the book, 'Where There is No Doctor,' as well as her 'gut feelings,'" Kramlich stated in her affidavit, adding that Bach also said at times she "felt God would tell her what to do for the child."

Kramlich said Bach "gave orders to her nursing staff who were employed there at the time" and "would override their judgement [sic] and decisions on a regular basis," according to the court documents. When Kramlich asked why she didn't always seek outside medical help, Bach allegedly told her she "didn't believe Ugandan doctors knew what they were talking about," and according to Kramlich's affidavit, Bach "felt she had more knowledge because she had access to online resources."

In "one of the more disturbing" interactions, Kramlich said Bach asked whether giving a bottle of intravenous iron instead of a blood transfusion would help a child with severe anemia. "I really just want to try it to see what happens," Bach allegedly said.

Bach told ABC News that she and Kramlich "didn't part under the best terms." And in an affidavit filed in response to her claims, Bach, who never went to college, said that Kramlich "repeatedly made it known that she did not like working with me, someone who was younger than herself and who was without her level of academic training although she understood this would be the situation."

Bach also said in her affidavit that although she "discussed symptoms and associated risks" with Serving His Children's medical staff, she "did not attempt to diagnose or treat such illnesses as alleged." Bach noted that Serving His Children had three full-time registered nurses on staff who were responsible for patient care while Kramlich was a volunteer there.

Speaking to ABC News, Bach said "death summary reports" were provided to the families who were then expected to file the documents with local authorities. Bach also said that Kramlich has had no personal knowledge of Serving His Children's operations since she stopped volunteering in late 2011.

"Once Jackie left, she never returned to observe activities to see how things were being run," Bach told ABC News.
The controversial facility

According to court documents filed in response to the lawsuit, Bach said Serving His Children initially did not provide any medical services, starting a malnutrition rehabilitation program first in 2011 and then becoming a licensed health facility in Jinja district on March 4, 2014. A copy of the certificate was included in the court documents, with an expiration date of Dec. 31, 2014. The organization said it would refer more serious cases to the local hospital, according to the court documents.

Serving His Children's facility in Jinja district was shut down in March 2015 after the district health officer made an "unannounced inspection" in response to complaints about Bach and her organization. After two hours of searching through the organization's records, inspecting medicines and interviewing staff, the district health officer identified three areas that required improvement: having an overdue license registration but within a standard three-month grace period, not having a separate room for children with tuberculosis and not referring children to a higher level of care if necessary, according to the court documents.

Bach said Serving His Children was in the process of renewing the license at the time of the inspection. Later that month, the Resident District Commissioner of Jinja wrote a letter of recommendation for Serving His Children to renew its license. Bach said in an affidavit that "multiple government officials" told Serving His Children that it could reopen the facility and resume care of malnourished children, but the organization's board in the United States made the decision to remain closed for a time because Bach and her staff were facing "threats from members of the community." Still, Serving His Children continued an outreach program in food supplements and nutrition.
(MORE: Afghan boy, wounded in war, dances on new prosthetic leg in heartwarming video)
PHOTO: A sign for the nutrition unit run by Serving His Children in partnership with Ugandas Health Ministry at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018. Emily Coffey
A sign for the nutrition unit run by Serving His Children in partnership with Uganda's Health Ministry at the Kigandalo Health Center IV, Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018.
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In June 2017, Serving His Children in partnership with Uganda's Ministry of Health opened an inpatient treatment center in Mayuge district and began outpatient treatment services for malnourished children. A community engagement program was established that October, according to the court documents. To date, these programs have continued to run based out of the Kigandalo Health Center IV under a Ugandan team of nine nurses (six full-time and three contract), two clinical officers, one medical officer, a nutritionist, a social worker and a pastor, according to the court documents.

A spokesperson for Uganda's Ministry of Health told ABC News that the Uganda Medical and Dental Practitioners Council, a quasi-government professional organization mandated by the health ministry, launched an investigation into Serving His Children earlier this year in light of the civil lawsuit. Investigators were "unable to support allegations that children died in large numbers" due to the services provided by Bach's organization. They also did not find evidence that Bach was treating any children herself, according to the health ministry spokesperson.

When asked whether there will be another investigation, the spokesperson told ABC News they will "wait [for] the court matters to conclude."
'The mindset of a white savior'

The allegations have ignited claims that Bach was playing the role of a "white savior" by moving to Uganda with no formal medical training and starting an organization that ultimately began caring for sick children.

According to an affidavit from Kayaga, one of the lawyers at the Women's Probono Initiative, which filed the civil lawsuit, a white savior complex is "the belief that any white person irrespective of their academic status or training and social economic standing can offer aid to poor black minorities."

A group called No White Saviors has spoken out against Bach in numerous social media posts. The group has said on its Twitter and Instagram pages that its members are in talks with Virginia-based lawyers to explore options for bringing legal action against Bach and Serving His Children in the United States. ABC News has reached out to the group for comment.
PHOTO: Renee Bach is pictured in Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018. Emily Coffey
Renee Bach is pictured in Mayuge district, Uganda, May 2018.

Bach told ABC News she understands why people may be quick to label her a "white savior," and even admitted she first came to Uganda with that mentality.

"I definitely went to Uganda with, you know, the mindset of a white savior," Bach said. "I think it's impossible to say that any person coming from a developed country, such as America, going to a place that would be considered underdeveloped, such as Uganda, wouldn't have a bit of a white savior complex. You know, your desire is to help."

"I don't think that's a bad mindset. I think it's how you live that out," she added. "And it was a quick turnaround for me to realize that I'm not needed here. You know, all of our programs are completely Ugandan-run and operating."
Court battle continues

An initial court date set in March was postponed, and the case is now expected to be heard in January. Bach has not been criminally prosecuted for the allegations.

Meanwhile, Bach has stepped down from her role as Serving His Children's program director and has temporarily returned to the United States, where she is working in a volunteer capacity to raise funds for the organization's team in Uganda.

Bach said she believes the lawsuit grew out of a personal "vendetta" waged by people in the community who dislike her as well as disgruntled former employees.

She admitted that she was "involved in some medical activities" and would offer an extra set of hands in emergencies, but always under the oversight of a doctor or nurse who was present.

"They're taking a little grain of something that they saw or experienced and blowing it into this huge story," she told ABC News.

Bach said she questions the motive behind the lawsuit and whether the accusers have the best interest of the Ugandan people at heart.

"We've seen a lot of hurt and a lot of negative things come from this situation. Our Ugandan staff that are working hard and doing what they do best and are dedicated are being threatened, you know, in their workplace and in their home because of this," she told ABC News. "They're putting these people at risk and putting children's lives at risk."

ABC News' Moses Bwayo contributed to this report from Kampala, Uganda.

[Trokklarline]

Der Gegenschlag aus Uganda scheint auch nicht ganz koscher zu sein.


https://nowhitesaviors.org/news/

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Original background image from Sparrow Women website When you visit the website of Sparrow Women you are met with the warm smiles of a (racially) diverse team and their one word mission statement, “Peacemakers” followed by their definition of the word, “A person who brings peace. We exist to catalyze the next generation of reconcilers”. At first glance, one … Continue reading White Supremacy & The Evangelical Church: Diversity Does Not Make You Non-Racist
Please, no more logical fallacies when discussing the Israeli occupation.
January 17, 2019Leave a comment   

Today’s post comes to you from a friend and follower of NWS, Eliora, after we connected through the conversations that have been had surrounding the Palestine / Israeli conflict. Remember to keep in mind that one can be both the oppressed and the oppressor. Our multiple identities are not static. Power dynamics shift and change … Continue reading Please, no more logical fallacies when discussing the Israeli occupation.
The White Savior Complex, Passion Without Experience or Education: An Open Letter to Maggie Doyne
October 31, 2018Leave a comment   

“Winner of the CNN Hero of the Year Award, Maggie was just an average gap year student trying to find her way in the world when she came across something she could never un-see. This is how one girl single-handedly changed the lives of hundreds with this one thought: “Forget the 80 million, start with … Continue reading The White Savior Complex, Passion Without Experience or Education: An Open Letter to Maggie Doyne
When White Saviorism Turns Deadly: American missionary played doctor, children died, when will there be justice?
October 15, 2018Leave a comment   

Pictured is Renee Bach, an American missionary who moved to Jinja, Uganda at age 18. She is not a Doctor, not a Nurse. With no formal medical training, Ms. Bach started experimenting with medical procedures she’d learn from Youtube. When I first visited Uganda in 2010, I was 20-years-old and chalk-full of the white savior … Continue reading When White Saviorism Turns Deadly: American missionary played doctor, children died, when will there be justice?
7 Tips on How To Be a Good Human While Traveling to Countries in the Southern Hemisphere
October 15, 2018Leave a comment   

We’ve put together a list of 7 general tips to keep in mind while traveling overseas, especially to countries in the southern hemisphere. This is by no means an exhaustive list. We think this is a good place to start as we all reflect on the ways in which our presence while traveling can cause … Continue reading 7 Tips on How To Be a Good Human While Traveling to Countries in the Southern Hemisphere
Ugandan woman watches 18-year-old American woman ‘adopt’ children in her country but is blocked from adopting herself
October 15, 2018Leave a comment   

The double standard for foreign nationals runs deep. So deep that a young, single American girl can travel to Uganda and take custody of 13 children, while a married, financially secure Ugandan woman is turned down for adoption in her own country. Patricia Musanje is a 23-year old woman who stays on the Lubowa side … Continue reading Ugandan woman watches 18-year-old American woman ‘adopt’ children in her country but is blocked from adopting herself
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https://nowhitesaviors.org/2019/05/25/what-we-can-all-learn-from-stacey-dooleys-white-savior-row-her-refusal-to-do-better/

Decolonizing missions and development work

What We Can All Learn From Stacey Dooley’s ‘White Savior Row’ & Her Refusal to Do Better
May 25, 2019   
The No White Saviors community partnered with Zion Family Support to invest in business training & a small business start-up for the Grandmother of the little boy Ms. Dooley exploited for her #selfie captioned “Obsessed”. Zion Family Support is a CBO (Community Based Organization) working in Eastern Uganda to strengthen & support vulnerable families.

I wish we could say that we expected more from Stacey Dooley, Comic Relief and the BBC but the truth is, we are not surprised at all in their total lack of accountability or the absence of any real commitment to do better. We have become painfully accustomed to having the ‘good intentions’ of foreigners used to justify pretty much any harmful, exploitative or even illegal behavior.

This conversation isn’t new for Comic Relief. The charity had already committed to ditching this tired white savior narrative when their campaign with Ed Sheeran ran. We have tried to engage Ms. Dooley, the British news network as well as Comic Relief. Rather than listening, they have doubled down, cut footage, lied and avoided any ownership of their mistakes. This is dangerous. We are no longer tolerating this notion that we, here on the Continent, must be grateful for the mere presence of white people, regardless of how they conduct themselves.

For anyone who is still in the dark. Let us flip the script for a moment, shall we? This seems to be the only way some of you can grasp that we should be afforded basic humanity, dignity and respect:

Imagine a famous news anchor or journalist here in Uganda travels to one of your predominately white British communities to report on the plight of the disengaged, high strung parent who gives their children iPhones and tablets instead of actually parenting their children. This celebrity is being used to bring awareness, they mean well. They get caught up in the moment, pick up and hold a child they do not know, against the child’s will, snap a photo and caption it “Obsessssssssed (insert broken heart emoji)”.

When confronted about the ethics of the post, the Ugandan journalist lies and says that she knew the child, that the family asked to take the photo with her and that the child and her family were benefiting from the work of the charity. After multiple sources visited the family and confirmed all of this to be false, the journalist claims that she ‘would do the same’ if given the chance.

This is probably impossible for you to imagine, right? That’s because it is as bizarre and inappropriate as it sounds. This wouldn’t be permitted in the first place, let alone defended so broadly after the fact. So why did this happen and what can we learn from the way Ms. Dooley, Comic Relief and BBC have responded? This is certainly not the first, nor will it be the last time we see a non-melinated outsider come into our community and use a Black child as props for their Instagram #selfie.

Our interest is in helping those who want to do good, do better. We may not be regarded as the nicest or most gentle in the game, but being honest and direct with you about the harm you are unintentionally causing is the kindest thing we could do for everyone involved. We figured that if the Strictly Come Dancing star isn’t willing to learn from this that there might be some well-intentioned westerners out there who can take away some important lessons of what not to do when engaging in formerly colonized countries.
Five Things We Can Learn From Stacey Dooley’s ‘White Savior Row’:

    Understand Power & Privilege Dynamics: If you are white and/or a foreign national coming to do some good on the Continent, chances are you are entering into spaces where you hold a great deal of power and privilege that can be wielded for good or used to manipulate, coerce, take advantage of or exploit the very people you claim to want to help. You need to be aware of the power dynamics that exist within the work that you are doing. When we talk about consent, we need to be able to think more critically on how power impacts one’s agency and ability to advocate for themselves.
    If You Wouldn’t Do it at Home: This should not be such a hard concept to grasp but it certainly seems to be. If you would not conduct yourself in such a way at home, in your own community, you should not do it here. Africa is not your playground or a space for you to ‘find yourself’ and learn to ‘appreciate all that you have’ at the expense of our poorest and most vulnerable citizens.
    Always Interrogate Your Motivations: Before you post that #selfie with those Black children in that slum or village, before signing up for that 10 day service or mission trip, really ask yourself ‘why’? Take time to explore your motivations. If you were not allowed to post a single photo to social media of the good work you are doing, would you still do it? If you are doing it for the right reasons, you shouldn’t be looking for praise or recognition for your good deeds.
    Good Intentions Aren’t Good Enough: You can mean well, do some good along the way and still cause harm. Yes we know most often it is unintentional. We know that you want to do good but this is not an excuse or justification for your problematic behavior. Demanding that we recognize the good you’ve done while avoiding accountability and refusing to listen to anything other than praise is gaslighting and it’s abusive.
    Admit When You’re Wrong & Do Better: We do not demand or expect perfection. We are simply asking that you be willing to lean in, get educated and that you begin to think more critically about how you engage in our communities. With a lifetime of colonized education and propaganda, you have to decide how committed you actually are to the population or cause you claim to care so much about. Do you care enough to take ownership of past mistakes and make real changes to your behavior?

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Tagged: Africa, child trafficking, foster care, international adoption, Kampala, missionary work, no white saviors, Uganda, voluntourism, white saviorism, White supremacy   
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Wenn die Neger sich gegen die Evangelikalen wehren, das ist okay. Aber im Stil der wissenden weissen Saviors in Israel mitreden zu wollen ist nicht drin!


https://nowhitesaviors.org/2019/01/17/please-no-more-logical-fallacies-when-discussing-the-israeli-occupation/

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Please, no more logical fallacies when discussing the Israeli occupation.
January 17, 2019   

Today’s post comes to you from a friend and follower of NWS, Eliora, after we connected through the conversations that have been had surrounding the Palestine / Israeli conflict. Remember to keep in mind that one can be both the oppressed and the oppressor. Our multiple identities are not static. Power dynamics shift and change depending on context. One can be proud of their Jewish heritage, acknowledge the pain that Jewish people have experienced throughout history and still hold the state of Israel accountable. We hope you learn from and share what Eliora has taken so much time to write here.

Who I am

Hi.

I need to talk about the way we talk about something that has been going on for a while. My name is Eliora (it’s a Hebrew name) and through my mother, I am a Sephardi Jew from Morocco, and through my father I am German.

It’s a long story. As far as jewish people go, I don’t fit the stereotype. I am not practicing nor have I ever lived in Israel, and no one in my family has ever made matzah ball soup (because that’s an Ashkenazi thing and also bland af). I have lived in Jordan where I worked with a majority of Palestinians. I definitely don’t speak for all or the majority of Jewish people. And I’m not here to weigh in on “the conflict”. I’m here to comment on the — online — conversations about the Israeli occupation of Palestine.

The debate on NWS started with someone asking why Israel is always being criticised, all the time, out of context, on a day like Christmas. They were wondering if they had missed a nuance and whether people’s hurt came from not being heard in their jewish identity. So we’re going to talk timing and we’re going to talk voice. And already I know that attempting this will be mayhem, alienating those who think I go too far, and those who think I don’t go far enough. But I believe in the way @nowhitesaviors does education, and my identity as a jewish person lends credence to my voice on the jewish perspective. This is my commentary.

In the past 60 years most Jews from Morocco emigrated, to France or Israel. So did my great aunt Haguit who left her home in 1953 to do aliyah (aliyah: the emigration of Jews to Israel). She lives her life in a kibbuts near Haifa, a city with a bitter past, and a history and present of being inhabited by Jews and Muslims. Her daughter, Hagar Roublev, could not grow up complicit in her country’s violence. During the first intifada she co-founded “Women in Black” — an organization of women protesting the dispossession of Israel over Palestine. They stood in silence on Paris Square in Jerusalem, condemning the IDF and the Israeli government for their occupation, commonly getting violent reactions and spat on by the Israeli public. With Sumaya Farhat Naser of the Markaz al-Quds la l-Nissah (Jerusalem Center for Women), Hagar and the other women spent years building for peace together through the Jerusalem Link. They imagined a peace in the region that was leftist, and feminist in practice. It revolved around non-violence and transformation of power structures. The central tenet of their work: that as long as Palestinians are not free, and as long as there was no agreement for two states, there could be no moving forward. This alienated the Israeli mainstream.

Why start with this story?

Because it is not a story of success, it is a story of dwindling hope. 28 years later, Woman in Black has become an International movement and women continue to carry on this protest, standing in the same square. Jerusalem Link went extinct in 2003. This extinction can be chalked up in part to flaws in its construction, and in part to the impossibility of continued partnership in a climate of ever growing imbalance[1]. The air around the issue has gotten murkier and more putrid. Women continue to organise against war but Palestinians no longer have the ability to go and meet with Israelis in public squares without obtaining a highly bureaucratic permit[2]. Their movement is restricted, restricting the joint movement toward liberation so many pacifists want to witness. The current international peace process has its’ terms entirely dictated by the entity that wields power, making it an unlikely beacon. And so, in a climate where the situation of segregation has gotten worse, and negotiated peace seems to be moving from possibility to pipe dream, what are we left to think of conversations about Israel and Palestine?

The unequivocal / for the jewish followers who got upset

As this is a post about conversation, I want to organise it around 6 main fallacies. Insidious, these six creep up in various forms, but just as I guarantee you have heard them before, I guarantee that once you’ve seen them for what they are, they lose their traction. @jewishvoiceforpeace also has some great resources on this along with step by step answers that you can give to your friends relatives when they engage with those. This is a small guide on when to pipe down

    No false equivalencies. Some conversations get shut down on the grounds that “there are two sides to every story”. While this is true, there is no debate to be had about the state of Israel’s oppression of Palestinians and the increasing theft of land. It is state violence and discrimination, manifested by restricting the freedom of movement, evicting people from their homes or destroying them, protecting killings with silence, and rationing water. And as with all situations of oppression, we need to stop with the false equivalencies in conversation. There is no ‘but also see our side and the danger we’re in’. In a situation of power imbalance, pointing out to a Palestinian’s place on an Israeli and U.S. terrorist list has very little value when those in power get to decide who is a terrorist. You know you would not go spend a wedding or a weekend in TLV if you felt imminent danger there. This does not negate the genuine fear your relatives, like mine, experience when they hear rockets over their head or run for shelter in a bunker. It separates the daily plight of Palestinians that is incomparable with that of occasional threat. You can look at the death toll, or income figures, or land grabs, or any other “objective” measure to convince yourself it is not a case of matched enemies caught in a quagmire. Cf: False Equivalencies
    Specificity. Antisemitism is a very specific word, that should be used to refer to people who explicitly or implicitly harbor negative feelings about jewish people. Anti-zionism isn’t antisemitic. It attacks an ideology, not a people. Supporting BDS isn’t antisemitic. It promotes sanctions against the actions of a state. Suggesting that these are the same, or intrinsically related, has disastrous consequences. It shuts down valuable debate and it punishes luminous figures like Mark Lamont Hill and Angela Davis. cf: Ad Hominem
    Fragility and timing. Sometimes, people’s anti-zionist reasoning is misinformed and sometimes it exists alongside their antisemitism. These types of conversations are the hardest to remain engaged in because they contain obvious wrongs. Seemingly attacking you and your family with insult over argument, or dismissing Israel’s foundation as a whole while continuing to visit and engage with other countries founded on the genocide and oppression of their indigenous populations. I ask you, as a person dedicated to fighting injustice everywhere, to not chime in to a post or a discussion about Palestinian’s lives being in danger and their identities attempting to be erased, to decry the nuance this conversation misses, using factoids about history and social fabric that they may or may not be aware of. It’s taking away from what is discussed. When someone who fears for their life wants to condemn Israel in its entirety and unequivocally, is not the time to offer an alternative perspective of context, not even for making them aware of anti-semitic undertones. As a femme, I don’t want to hear about the misconception some males have about consent — when discussing rape, as a way to hypothetically contextualize the behavior. None of that. I do eventually want to engage in the conversation about the factors in society and value creation that make boys grow up to feel entitled to a woman’s body, of course I do. And I do want to invite non-jewish, non-palestinian people into thinking about their role in the reactionary pullback some jews feel when outsiders speak on this issue and conflate what shouldn’t be conflated. But not in the same hour when we are speaking of the lives of Palestinians. (I’m going to do exactly that below because I’m speaking on conversation, not issue, but bear with me). Ask yourself if this is the right time for well meaning insertion of macro-reasoning. cf: Tu quoque
    Over-Intellectualization. There is an intellectual counterpart to spiritual bypassing which I’ll call over-complication or intellectualization, here the “avoidance of psychological insight into (an emotional problem) by performing an intellectual analysis”. This is the “it’s not an easy topic” line, as it’s getting lost in the geopolitical intricacies of the conflict, pretending they apply to the issue. This asymmetric conflict has become a trope for its’ complexity and the propensity people have to emotionally discuss its’ million viewpoints, landing on the stance of an unsolvable tangle, when absolutely every ongoing conflict has a million intricacies to it. True, getting to a viable, durable, peaceful solution is difficult. And picking apart people’s exact positions, alignments, histories and arguments in a post-truth age is mammoth work, that continues to happen in academic spaces, to clear the rubble for conversational field battle. Yet, despite difficulty in the solution, observing what is going on remains simple. There is no PHD required in calling a spade a spade, and calling an unjust occupation just that. When over-intellectualising, people erroneously imply that the difficulty of achieving something makes the search for it, and conversations about it, pointless. But that’s nonsense. We constantly look for a truth even if we believe absolute truth is unknowable. We constantly try to make society better and fairer even if a perfectly fair society is logically unsound. Just because it’s gargantuan to put into action, does not give leeway to avoid trying, and much less to avoiding the conversation. cf: Perfection fallacy
    The premises of the debate: On why anti-zionism is not antisemitic. When someone stands up in support of Palestine, they are weighing in concretely on a dispute about land and power, and broadly on a battle of world-views. In this larger debate, white supremacy, supported by islamophobia and the patriarchy, defends a fragile world order, tirelessly attempting to pull Judaism into their camp. Yoav Litvin wrote a lucid exposition of this fallacy on Aljazeera last week, where he warns against portraying zionism as Jewish supremacy. Expansionist movements always try to conceal the banal undertones of their ideology, wrapping it in some loftier rationale. Allowing anyone to make this political debate about religion, amounts to letting them weaponise the one thing they know we can’t turn our back on: our Jewish identity. As a minority we are naturally protecting ourselves from those that try to eradicate us for who we are. Because we are the only living Jewish people left, being Jewish is, in some way, not a choice: it’s a duty. And this is why, even though me and monotheism parted a few years back, I will never not be Jewish. It’s the religion of my ancestors, that of next to no conversions, devoid of missionary ambitions to make everyone a believer. Our identity lives and dies with us. Yet, modifying the vulnerable part of our identity as oppressed or in danger, to diminish that of “the enemy” is the oldest trick in the book. It started when there was a tangible debate about land, a land which was claimed as birthright by us in our texts, and by other groups in theirs (“This Land is mine” is a gross oversimplification, but it shows the absurdity of laying exclusive claim on religious grounds). Which is why it is important to remember what’s at stake in this debate: Judaism is not in danger, white supremacy is. In that specific sense, this complicated and emotional debate, is as banal as all others. cf: Appeal to Pity
    False dichotomy. The confusion of premises above is achieved by “manipulating our trauma”[3]. Powerlessness in one setting, the one where antisemitism is a fabric of society, will have you think the only alternative is for the Jewish people to accept their role of hard-bitten enforcer in another. This is the argument that goes “Jewish people need a strong, Jewish state because we are at risk everywhere else, look at our history” or “Israel’s neighbors want her harm, which is why we must use deterrence as military tactic”. Revisionist zionists especially, play into fear with this false dichotomy. We are either the strong oppressive state that Israel is, or we are victims of violence against us, inside Israel and out. To break from this dynamic, we need to realise the incredible power in our opportunity to be a generation that redefines what it means to be Jewish and work for peace. That there is a dimension of power in leaving the dichotomy and standing against all violence: the one committed against us and the one committed in our name. Being jewish at its core, has always meant community organization and living socialism. It means looking for peace together. We get to reclaim our identity away from the oppressor, without needing to oppress anyone else. That’s what a real Mensch does. Cf: False dichotomy

What we’re going to do:

We’re going to join Jewish voice for peace and maybe create a local chapter.

We’re going to hold our friends and relatives accountable for false equivalencies and over complication, reminding them that what is going on has nothing to do with religion.

We’re going to think of ways we can be bridges in conversations where no one else holds the same legitimacy as us.

We’re going to be kind to each other when someone gets it wrong because they are scared.

The necessary nuance / for the non-jewish, non-Palestinian followers of this post.

Your driving question should always be, “How may we best support Palestinians in their fight for liberation?” Palestinians are not voiceless victims, they are the ones who are narrating their life and reconstructing their experience. Your solidarity with Palestinians is important and heard. But you are not the moderators of this conversation and should be careful to interrogate what narrative you are contributing to when you $comment. I would venture to say that solidarity is the first step but not the solution. As my wise friend once said, “solidarity without understanding… feels a bit like saviorism for woke people”. So as you comment on a very simple issue, with a very difficult solution, I wonder if you know what the Great Return March is commemorating. Do you know what the main issues were in the Oslo peace process, from the perspective of a peace built by the acting hegemony? Do you understand the difference in perspective between the Ramallah bubble and life in Gaza ? Do you understand how antisemitism fuels zionism in jewish communities outside Israel? If you don’t, consider passing the mic to people who are much more informed and involved than you (and me). There are, primarily, Palestinian voices for liberation (Omar Ghraib, Hanan Ashrawi, Farah Gazan, @thisisgaza, @wearenotnumbers to name a very small selection) that you can listen to an uplift. If you care about a jewish perspective, there are Israeli and non-Israeli groups having this conversation (jwfp, women in black, jews for justice for palestinians).

What you can absolutely do, is match your vocal support with monetary contributions. The US cut funding to UNRWA after Donald Trump took office. The programs they run, especially in education programs functioned as a main safety net, and are left in suspension. https://www.unrwa.org/(but it would be better to donate to a Palestinian NGO directly, I am not sure which one and would be grateful for recommendations in the comments)

— — –

The separate conversation, on a different occasion / for the non-jewish, non-Palestinian followers of this post (especially Christians and Americans).

When you stand with strength and power against the actions of Israel, remain vigilant in separating white supremacist ideology from Judaism. Let your criticism start with holding your own government and its’ people accountable. Remember that a white, British, Christian man signed over Palestine to the Jewish people in 1917. People have been Zionists long before world war 2, and the notion of the jewish state as a safe haven demanded by Jews after the Shoah is a mental shortcut. Remember that the Israeli defense budget comes from the pockets of the US, not through “powerful jewish lobbies” but specifically from those evangelicals who believe Jesus will return to Jerusalem, and want to ensure it is not under Muslim rule at that point (this is real, look it up) along with many islamophobes and racists who feel close to white Jewish people through their othering of Arabs.

Because of this difference, please stop asking non-Israeli Jews out of context what “they think about Israel”, unless this is a question you ask everyone. We wonder every time where the tone of expectation comes from. None of us ask Christians, between two bites at dinner, what you think about priests molesting children, or evangelicals keeping millions of their children homeschooled, or missionaries’ crimes in Uganda. We are not suggesting you are responsible for the sins of those Christians who shoot up schools in your name, even though you live alongside them. It’s only minority groups that are constantly asked to justify the actions of those who wrong in their name, and it’s tiring. Every person should be implicated in the fight for Palestinian liberation. It’s ok for me to suggest Jewish people should be especially involved, but not for you.

n.b. If your jewish friend has family in Israel, and they feel informed and comfortable giving you additional guidance, you may of course ask. But it has to be about information, not justification.

As we move away from the Judaism/Israel intersection, we call on Jewish people, especially white ones, to consider their role in white supremacy everywhere (cw: point 5). I ask you to remember that your solidarity with Palestinians is no excuse for you to not consider your role in anti-semitism today. Ask yourself if you’ve ever toyed with the mental image of Jewish people being a particularly powerful and wealthy people and that being the reason for support of Israel. It’s not. (You can read the history of “Elders of Zion” if you want to find out about where that myth originated from, and the consequences that spun from it). “Positive” stereotyping around wealth, connection and cunningness is still stereotyping, and in the case of Judaism it has been a pervasive narrative used to discriminate. So is using “and he’s a Jew” as a punchline to a joke.

Finally, I mentioned above that false equivalencies have no place when discussing criticism of Israel’s policies and the plight of Palestinians. But if your anti-zionism makes you anti-zionists, i.e. if you believe there is an inherent issue with a person who supports the existence of a country on stolen land, whatever their personal history, I would expect you to not make it exceptional to this state’s ideology. I respect your activism and I would equally expect you to be the sort of person who applies the same attitude against the USA, Canada or Australia. If you can’t look someone in the eye because they support the existence of Israel, will you employ the same stance with someone on the pathway to Australian citizenship, or participating in the US political system? If not, can we have a discussion into why — is it time passed since the land was taken? or is it the relative cultural power that the US wield, making it visibly a place made up of more than one narrative? Because stolen land is stolen land, and how you act around someone who lives there or supports it, has to be consistent.

If you believe in calling in and in common discourse like this account does, you will likely do it with Israelis too and with Jewish people who are getting it wrong.

Did I get it wrong?

I can never post something like this and not be wrong. I am accountable, first and foremost to a Palestinian reading this, and next to jewish people who I address. If you think I missed a point or nuance in my discussion please let me know.

If neither of those apply to you and you feel the need to react, I’m asking that you research one new thing about Palestinian history and one new thing about Judaism that are unrelated to the current Israeli occupation and include that in your message.

[1] http://www.ingenere.it/en/articles/jerusalem-link-feminism-between-palestine-and-israel

[2] (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ln6LwAny910 — in German, sorry)

[3] https://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/opinion/zionist-fallacy-jewish-supremacy-190108202804743.html
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Tagged: Africa, foster care, international adoption, Kampala, missionary work, no white saviors, Uganda, voluntourism, white saviorism, White supremacy   
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Die Tusse ist schon 2014 aufgeflogen und in 2015 wurde ihr "Projekt" SHC geschlossen. Warum wird erst 4 Jahre später darüber berichtet? Die Beweise sind doch längst vernichtet. Ein paar sind aber noch gerettet worden.


https://nowhitesaviors.org/2018/10/15/when-white-saviorism-turns-deadly-american-missionary-played-doctor-children-died-when-will-there-be-justice/

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When White Saviorism Turns Deadly: American missionary played doctor, children died, when will there be justice?
October 15, 2018   
Pictured is Renee Bach, an American missionary who moved to Jinja, Uganda at age 18. She is not a Doctor, not a Nurse. With no formal medical training, Ms. Bach started experimenting with medical procedures she’d learn from Youtube.

When I first visited Uganda in 2010, I was 20-years-old and chalk-full of the white savior complex. I volunteered for 3 months at an orphanage in Jinja, Uganda and I really believed I was making a difference. I fundraised for my trip, raising thousands of dollars from family and friends to fill a role that was absolutely not necessary, even though I believed it was. The Ugandan women who cared for the children in the home were far better equipped to love and care for these children. They knew the culture, language and were a constant in the lives of the at-risk kids who came into care.

One of the hardest but most important lessons I have learned over the last 8 years has been that good intentions are not good enough. No matter how well meaning I have been or continue to be, the impact of my actions on the community I claim to be helping far outweighs my goodwill.

While in Jinja my white savior complex was only reinforced as I met other young, white American women who had moved to this same town. I watched in awe of young women who moved halfway across the world at age 18 with no experience, no college education. They were starting organizations and adopting children. How amazing? If they could do it, why not me? So I did. With only a bachelors degree and little-to-no experience, I co-founded an NGO in the same town as Renee Bach and her project – “Serving His Children.”

Initially, I admired Renee for her sacrifice and tireless commitment to helpingchildren battling malnutrition. It was not until January 2014 that my perspective really started to change. There was a child referred to our center who had previously been at Serving His Children (SHC). He and his Grandmother stayed with us for several months while he received much needed medical care. The day after we had received some good news about his heart condition, he died of a sudden heart attack. His 3-year-old body had been through a great deal of stress and it had finally given out.

We found out that this little boy had suffered a severe case of malnutrition and was brought to Renee’s NGO in Masese. They got him fat and healthy and then sent him home without so much as any consideration for the root cause of his malnutrition. There was no follow up, so he fell sick again, so sick that his body was not able to come back from it this time.

Renee and her Social Worker at the time came out to our office to discuss this case, as I made it clear I held her partially responsible for this child’s death. I explained that had she training or experience in child welfare, she’d know how critical it is to follow up on cases like this. I was frustrated at that point but all I was asking was that Renee and her team do better follow up moving forward to prevent kids from falling through the cracks and ending up right back where they started.

It was soon after this that my concern moved to terror, as I learned that the poor follow-up procedures were far from the most dangerous thing happening at Serving His Children. It was reported by multiple parties that Renee was actively practicing medicine on children that came to the center. She had medical professionals on staff but she herself, with no medical training, chose to actively treat and respond to serious medical needs of children in crisis.

Below is a screen capture of a blogpost Ms. Bach published on the Serving His Children website. This post, among others, have since been taken down. Nothing published on the internet really ever goes away. We were able to recover a number of troubling posts just like this, that were taken down after evidence was submitted to the Jinja Police and Ministry of Health in Uganda in 2015.

Here you can find a detailed account of just some of the direct, self-taught medical care this American missionary engaged in. She writes, “I hooked the baby up to oxygen and got to work….As I took her temperature, started an IV, checked her blood sugar, tested for malaria, and looked at her HB count… I was attempting to diagnose the many problems that could potentially be at hand…After doing a search for blood around Jinja town, we found her type and it was a match! We started the transfusion…”

According to previous volunteers and former staff, the above account is nothing compared to the high level medical practices Ms. Bach would engage in at Serving His Children. Taking children from actual hospitals and medical centers, Renee and her team would bring children back to the center in Masese. Renee herself would openly talk about how much she enjoyed “hands on medical care”. An unknown number of children have died in the care of this center. Proper protocol was not followed after the children died, so it could be quite challenging to find the total number of lives lost due to such serious negligence.
Pictured is Renee Bach standing in a room at Serving His Children in Masese. The room is covered, wall to wall, with photos of malnourished children.

Many of us who have tried to hold Renee and SHC accountable have been lambasted, yelled at and referred to as “the enemy” by supporters of Renee. The “home church” that Ms. Bach attended in Jinja, as well as a significant portion of the missionary community there, supported and defended her. It seems as though missionaries may have a selective tendency when it comes to following the laws of the land. Could you imagine if a young, Ugandan woman was experimenting with medical procedures on their children and they ended up dying? These same missionaries who have stood by and justified these behaviors would not sleep until they got justice if this had happened to their children.

What’s worse? Renee’s Board of Directors in America consisted of close friends and family members. When volunteers and employees would write to the board about these concerns, rather than holding Renee accountable, the board would find a way to get rid of anyone who was seen as “critical” of Renee’s calling from God.

After SHC was shut down in 2015, many of us hoped that there would finally be justice for all of the families who had children die at the center under Renee’s care. We were wrong. Up until now, there has not been a full investigation into the evidence provided to authorities here in Uganda. While we are holding Ms. Bach and SHC accountable first, we also must ask why the authorities who should have held her accountable failed to do so.

The purpose of this article is for advocacy and awareness purposes only. Sometimes, when justice is not had by way of a country’s justice system, the last resort is seeking public attention. When you share this and help us spread the word, there will be more voices demanding accountability for these families who lost their children.
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But the greatest of these is LOVE...

Friday, October 28, 2011
Patricia
I finally made it to church. It had been a couple of weeks….and I was doing my best to focus on being there, not worrying about so many other things…. I was breathing deep; trying my best to allow my fears and worries to melt away as I prepared my heart for worship.

It was the beginning of service. People were starting to sing. And then my phone rang….

It was, Mamma Fatuma, our Sunday worker. She sounded worried. Which in turn made me worried. She said “Auntie maybe you come home. There is a baby here, and maybe she is dead.”. My heart stopped. I grabbed my bag, gathered the girls I had come with, and we jumped in the car. Homebound. Fast.

When we arrived, I found a man and woman anxiously sitting on our veranda. Fear filled their eyes. The woman was holding a small bundle, and a little swollen hand stuck out of the blanket. The baby in her arms was so still. And when I pulled the covering back my eyes widened. For under the blanket lay a small, but very, very swollen, pale baby girl. Her breaths were frighteningly slow. No wonder I was told she might be dead; the raise and fall of her chest was almost invisible.

I immediately ushered them into the clinic. I hooked the baby up to oxygen and got to work... As I took her temperature, started an IV, checked her blood sugar, tested for malaria, and looked at her HB count, they began to tell me her story…. A story that I feel I have heard many times before. But even though I’ve heard countless similar stories, my heart still breaks every time!

The baby’s name is, Patricia. She is 9 months old. She had fallen sick 3 weeks ago. Her Mom had taken her to a health center, but there was no improvement. She continued to get worse, despite any treatment that was given. One of their relatives told them about a “hospital” in Masese with a “White Doctor”. So that Sunday morning they left their home early and journeyed to Jinja-in hope of finding someone, anyone who could help their daughter.

While I was listening, I was attempting to diagnose the many problems that could potentially be at hand…. Got it. Malaria: positive. HB: 3.2. Both are a big problem. And together they create an even bigger [most likely fatal] problem for such a small child.

She needed a blood transfusion. And fast. After doing a search for blood around Jinja town, we found her type and it was a match! We started the transfusion. Praying with every drip. About 30 minutes into her transfusion she started to show signs of having an anaphylactic reaction. Not good. Not good at all. Her neck and face started swelling. A lot. I’m talking about a ton of swelling. Within 15 minutes her breathing went from bad to worse. Her throat was beginning to close. We gave her an antihistamine and off to Kampala we went…

We arrived at one of the best hospitals in Kampala by about 8pm. And then sat in the ER for over 3 hours waiting to see a Doctor. It was a very long night to say the least. But surprisingly, she made it to see the morning!

The next few days seem like a blur…. They consisted of daily drives to and from Kampala, nights of very little sleep, many tears, and lots and lots of prayer.

Everyday when I would arrive at the hospital she would be about the same-still on oxygen, still running tests, still no change. Until one day I walked into her little curtained off room, and oh my, she looked terrible. Her Mom sat by her bed, crying. Shortly after I got there the Doctor came to give me an update….. I was informed that Patricia’s blood levels had dropped to a dangerous level again and she needed blood. Again. BUT, the problem was that the hospital didn’t have her blood type. So therefore she couldn't be transfused. In Uganda there is always a shortage of blood. So frustrating. The Dr. asked if I would be willing to donate my blood, and if I knew my type. Of course I was willing, but didn’t know my type….I was quickly sent to the lab to be typed. I was B+. Patricia was B+. It was a match. Glory to God!

I caught a boda (motorcycle) across town to the blood bank. They drew my blood, gave me a soda and I headed back to the hospital.
The next day Patricia was transfused. It’s an odd feeling thinking that your blood is being put into someone else's body. Someone that you know, that you love; that you are paying life over. I was praying that my blood would be to her as the blood of Christ is to me! A promise.

We continued to pray....

After the transfusion my hope was that she would begin to show some signs of improvement. Not the case. The next morning when I arrived, she had again worsened. She was continuing to swell from inadequate nutrients. Her eyes were even swollen shut. And there was a wound forming, just appearing on the side of her face...none of the Doctors seemed to mention anything about it...

But later that morning I was told that they wanted to refer Patricia back to our center because they could no longer manage her severe state of malnutrition. So we packed up her things, transferred her to our portable oxygen tank, and started driving back to Jinja.
Patricia all hook up in the SHC clinic

The next week was rough. Within the first few days of having Patricia back, she continued to be in a comatose state. Her appearance seemed to be getting worse. Things were not looking good at all. I remember sitting in the clinic for so many nights, holding her little fragile body, crying, begging God to heal her. I felt an odd attachment to this little person who now had my blood running through her veins.

I spent so many nights praying, just praying that God would work a miracle. Praying that He would reach down and heal this little girl that most people said couldn’t be healed. Praying that He would give me wisdom, or that maybe He would send someone who was already wise.

And then. God did. He sent a miracle. In the form of a short term missions team from Alabama; in the form of 2 ladies named, Vivian and Melody…

A few days after Patricia was brought back to the center a medical missions team flew into Uganda to spend a week working with SHC and a clinic about 3 hours north-east of here. And wow, does God have perfect timing or what? They really were the miracle we were all paying for!

They allowed myself and the rest of our team to get some much needed sleep, not to mention they provided me with so much encouragement. They were not only the hands and feet of Christ to Patricia, but also to all of us who were caring for her!

Between all of us, we were able to help treat the mysterious and ever growing wound on Patricia’s face-the wound that appeared after her transfusion at the hospital. The wound that at first just a small opening on her face and then later turned into a huge gapping wound that was starting to make its way down her neck. But God truly provided and we were able to get the proper medication to stop the spreading. Her swelling started to go down and she was becoming more alert!
Now, I could go on and on about the next week… But, the most important thing about the days that came is that we saw God move. In huge ways! He literally preformed a miracle before our eyes.

Recently our Assistant Director, Danielle took Patricia and her Mom home for a visit. Patricia's family hadn't seen her since she first left to come to Jinja, so the last they had seen of her was when she was at her worst. Very close to death. When Patricia and her mom arrived at their village everyone was in awe. Patricia's great Aunt and Uncle (who she lives with) were so astonished to see that Patricia was even alive; they were overjoyed! They were both under the impression that she had died in Kampala because they got word from Patricia's father that she was transferred there from Jinja.

As they were there friends and family began to slowly trickle up to the house to see Patricia. Her mom was so proud, I don't think she stopped smiling the entire time they were there! Some of the neighbors didn't even believe that she was the same little girl. A lot was said in reaction to seeing Patricia, but mostly Patricia's great Aunt and Uncle repeatedly praised Jesus for His mercy, and thanked both Christ and SHC so much for helping. It was so amazing to hear how each person who looked at Patricia then looked up to the sky and just shook their heads in astonishment, thanking Jesus. Thanking their God.

I was told that Patricia would not live. Today, she is alive. I saw her little body begin to give out. At her weakest, I was scared. But I kept praising Jesus! I kept praising the one who created us both. The one who has the power to give and take away. The one who can perform miracles beyond all of our understanding. Today, Patricia is alive. She can sit up tall, even feed herself. She is one of our messiest kids at meal time. Ha. She laughs, smiles [crookedly], plays with toys and lives just as any other girl her age.

All glory and honor and praise to Jesus!!!

This is by fair my favorite picture of all time! Even though Patricia was all bandaged up and breathing thorough a tube, Selah still loved. Unconditionally. Just how the Father loves.

Thank you to all of you who spent countless hours in prayer for Baby Patricia! Thank you to all who stayed up long nights, holding a fussy baby. Thank you to all of you who loved her like Jesus!
Posted by Renee Bach at 2:57 AM Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
6 comments:

    JamieOct 28, 2011 09:02 PM

        glory be to God

    Reply
    KaitlynNov 1, 2011 11:33 AM

        Glory to God! Thank you for sharing this beautiful, beautiful story.. It is so humbling to read and realize that that's how He loves us - caring for the one. Thank you for following His example. Praise JESUS, and all the more!!
        Be blessed...you are, indeed!!

    Reply
    Beautiful MessNov 1, 2011 12:45 PM

        Praise be the THE ONE Who is Able!

    Reply
    brittNov 1, 2011 12:56 PM

        I'm sitting at a coffee shop, trying not to bawl and praising our Father. I've been praying for this ministry and will continue fervently...praying for strength for you all and that Christ will be seen through the triumphs and disappointments.

    Reply
    phogueNov 1, 2011 01:45 PM

        God is good and so amazing!! Continuing prayers for little Patricia and for the amazing work that God is doing through you and your clinic.

    Reply
    thehootingmindNov 3, 2011 06:20 AM

        God is working with you.
        Your profession makes a way...
        Bless you

        i have added you to my blog roll

    Reply

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Renee Bach
    "How, then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach if they are not sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" I'm just a girl from a little town in VA, who has felt the call of God to go to a strange country and serve Him! Sometimes I’m scared out of my mind, but then I feel His arms around me, and I hear him say “I am here. Do not be afraid”! So I’m not. I live everyday(in the States or in Uganda)trusting in the unfailing love of my Savior, Jesus Christ!! Knowing that He will care for me, and this mission every step of the way!

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"How, then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach if they are not sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" I'm just a girl from a little town in VA, who has felt the call of God to go to a strange country and serve Him! Sometimes I’m scared out of my mind, but then I feel His arms around me, and I hear him say “I am here. Do not be afraid”! So I’m not. I live everyday(in the States or in Uganda)trusting in the unfailing love of my Savior, Jesus Christ!! Knowing that He will care for me, and this mission every step of the way!
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    I Love Africa more then I can put into words and want to spend my life feeding the children there!! I live on a horse farm (when Im not in Africa) so i love to ride spending time with my family and friends. I have been on a dance team for 6 years and love to dance for the Lord! I like to take pictures (of African Children) and play around with photography. I love eating beans and rice with my fingers while sitting on the floor of my house in Uganda. Hugging as many african children as I can and teaching them about the Lord! Walking through a village and realizing that there is just more to life then we sometimes might think! I love Reading especially the bible. Most of all I love to just soak up the word of God and worship him with all I have!

Favorite Movies

    The Lord of the Rings Remember the Titans Sweet home Alabama While you were Sleeping John Q Cheaper by the dozen (1&2) Hitch Tears of the Sun Blood Diamond Skipping Christmas The Sound of Music Raising Helen A Walk to Remember The Inn of the Sixth Happiness The End Of The Spear

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    The BIBLE!! Francine Rivers: the Mark of the Lion trilogy Redeeming Love and the Atonement Child The Irresistible Revolution.Under The Overpass Don’t Waste You Life The purpose Driven Life. Karen Kingsbury books!

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My blogs

    But the greatest of these is LOVE...

Blogs I follow

    A Cry of Stone
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    To Be Finally Free

About me
Gender    Female
Industry    Non-Profit
Occupation    Working for Serving His Children as the on grounds Director
Location    Bedford, VA, United States
Introduction    "How, then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach if they are not sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" I'm just a girl from a little town in VA, who has felt the call of God to go to a strange country and serve Him! Sometimes I’m scared out of my mind, but then I feel His arms around me, and I hear him say “I am here. Do not be afraid”! So I’m not. I live everyday(in the States or in Uganda)trusting in the unfailing love of my Savior, Jesus Christ!! Knowing that He will care for me, and this mission every step of the way!
Interests    I Love Africa more then I can put into words and want to spend my life feeding the children there!! I live on a horse farm (when Im not in Africa), so i love to ride, spending time with my family and friends. I have been on a dance team for 6 years, and love to dance for the Lord! I like to take pictures (of African Children), and play around with photography. I love eating beans and rice with my fingers while sitting on the floor of my house in Uganda. Hugging as many african children as I can and teaching them about the Lord! Walking through a village and realizing that there is just more to life then we sometimes might think! I love Reading, especially the bible. Most of all I love to just soak up the word of God and worship him with all I have!
Favorite Movies    The Lord of the Rings, Remember the Titans, Sweet home Alabama, While you were Sleeping, John Q, Cheaper by the dozen (1&2), Hitch, Tears of the Sun, Blood Diamond, Skipping Christmas, The Sound of Music, Raising Helen, A Walk to Remember, The Inn of the Sixth Happiness, The End Of The Spear
Favorite Music    I love Casting crowns, Jeremy Camp, Plum, Carrie Underwood, Chris Tomlin, Hillsong, Coldplay, Kari Jobe, Faith Hill, Switchfoot, Nickel Creek, David Crowder Band, Kutles, U2, Kelly Clarkson, Starfield, Matt Redman, Mercy Me, Brlow Girl, Creed, Jars of Clay, Joy Williams, Leeland, Shane And Shane, Sia, Skillet, Sugarland, Third Day.
Favorite Books    The BIBLE!! Francine Rivers: the Mark of the Lion trilogy, Redeeming Love, and the Atonement Child, The Irresistible Revolution.Under The Overpass, Don’t Waste You Life, The purpose Driven Life. Karen Kingsbury books!
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But the greatest of these is LOVE...

Saturday, September 14, 2013
Patrick
We were just finishing up a long outpatient clinic.  I was exhausted…and we still had a 3 hour drive ahead. Being a Monday the health center was bustling with patients from near and far, but it was now close to 5pm. The lines had begun to die down and the nursing staff was just getting around to taking afternoon tea.

I had completed our last patient of the day and my team was starting to pack up in preparation to leave. We had 3 severely malnourished children waiting to be taken with us and the daylight was slowly fading.  In my haste to ready everything and everyone, I heard a noise and quickly looked up…and that’s when I saw him…his pale little face resting on his mamma’s shoulder. Wearing a knitted winter hat and wrapped up, as if it were cold enough to actually warrant winter wear. His big brown eyes seemed to look right at me, and for a moment I stopped; for a short minute I looked at him intently. Had I enrolled this child in our nutrition program? No, I didn’t recall doing an assessment on the child and I wondered how we had missed them…I didn’t recognize him at all. But even from a brief, far off glance I could detect presenting malnutrition. I was in a hurry though. I wanted to start the long drive home. I had patients to care for. I hadn’t eaten all day. And my daughter was waiting for me at home. He would have to be seen at the next clinic.

He slowly closed his eyes as his mom continued to gracefully saunter away from where I was standing, on the veranda of the health center.  Unaware of my watchful glance…

I continued packing.

But something in my heart didn’t feel right. An unsettling feeling washed over me. And so reluctantly I, along with one of my staff trudged after them.  We quickly spotted them walking though a cornfield.  A few minutes later we were making our way back to the health center where we could have a better look at the child and talk to the mother…a cornfield is not always the most conducive for medical assessments.

After a few brief interdictions, Lydia (the mother) quietly explained that ever since Patrick was a couple weeks old his intestines had been outside of his abdomen. Due to an abnormality at birth he was taken to a hospital where a doctor attempted to do a colostomy. But the procedure was not done properly and within a couple of months the colostomy prolapsed, leaving most of his large intestines hanging out of his stomach. Patrick’s parents took him to several hospitals, even the national hospital in Kampala, but by that time all surgeons agreed unanimously: he was too malnourished to undergo the operation. It was far too risky.  So, they went back home. And they waited. They waited for what seemed only inevitable…the death of their son.  As time passed Patrick grew even thinner. He lost his appetite and refused to eat all food completely. He had no desire to walk, and now at the age of almost 3 he hardly even spoke.

That day Lydia had brought another child for malaria treatment, and because Patrick was only content in his Mom’s arms he had come along for the ride.  She was unaware that we were even there. 

It was quickly decided that Patrick and his Mom would be coming with us. We gathered their things. Spoke with Lydia’s husband, and headed out. Finally.

Once Patrick got settled in (and let me tell you he was not happy about the settling) we began to take him to see Doctors and specialist.  He needed surgery and waiting longer wasn’t doing anyone any good, but we continued to hear the same thing “Get him to gain about 8 pounds and then we’ll consider it”. And we tried. We tried to get him to gain weight and he simply would not. He would gain a pound and then lose 2. It was a constant uphill battle.  He was miserable. Poor Lydia was trying so hard! She was the perfect picture of patience. She was always loving, and never failed to serve her child with the upmost kindness.


But after 2 months passed we were only slightly closer to our goal.

We had all tried hard. But Lydia was needed back at home where her other 4 children remained. So with little luck rehabilitating Patrick from our center, we came to the conclusion that we would give it a go from home.

The next week as we drove along the bumpy dirt road towards Manafwa, Patrick and his mom sat quietly in the back seat. 

We enrolled Patrick into our outpatient program and started him on a high calorie, high protein diet. Lydia was a Rockstar! Though she was almost 8 months pregnant she diligently fed and cared for her stubborn toddler son. We saw them every 2 weeks but never saw much change. Good or bad. Then one week Patrick and his Mom didn’t come.  The next time we saw them there was change, but not the kind of change we had prayed for…

That day the little family once again made the journey to Jinja.

After some searching we found a surgeon who agreed that though the surgery was risky Patrick couldn’t live much longer without it-his health would continue to decline because of the loss of fluid and nutrients. He promised that if we could get his weight up to 7 kilograms by August he would operate!!! We were elated. Being only May we had high hopes that it could be done! But, he would have to remain in Jinja for almost 3 months, and Lydia was nearing her due date…all parities agreed and we set to work.

At the beginning of July Selah and I left for the States. We left Patrick in good hands, and returned home 5 weeks later to find him at a happy, healthy weight of 7.2 kg.  He was ready for surgery.

But shortly after our return, before the operation was scheduled, on a Saturday morning Mamma Patrick went into labor. What should have been a joyous celebration of life turned into a heart wrenching night that will forever be ingrained in my mind and heart!  That night, after almost 24 hours of labor, Lydia was taken for an emergency C-section. When they opened her up they found twin baby girls, conjoined in the abdomen.  They both died 2 hours after birth. (That evening is a story in its self. If you would like to know more you can read a blog post by one of our volunteers by Clicking Here ).

So here we are. Over 5 months from the start of our journey together…


Mamma Patrick is slowly healing from the intense trauma of that terrible night. She will forever hold a scar marking the loss of her daughters, but I believe that just as her physical wounds are healing, so are her emotional wounds. So is her heart. Almost every afternoon you will find Patrick and his Mom slowly walking laps around our compound, hand in hand, quietly talking and pointing at things as they pass. Walking towards healing, strengthening their broken bodies. And Patrick, bless his heart is hanging on to those 7 kilos.




So I write to challenge you. To invite you to be a part of this beautiful family! We have seen much tragedy and also so much joy come from watching God unfold this story.  And He is not finished yet.  With Patrick’s baby sisters at his side, He is still scribing! I don’t know what the end will look like. But I do know that somewhere in this next chapter there is a little boy who needs his physical body put back together. Because only then will he one day have the opportunity to invite the fullness of Christ to dwell inside his heart.


Will you be a part of this chapter?

Patrick’s surgery will cost about $1,500-2,000, and he will likely need more then one operation.

If you would like to make a donation to help cover the costs of Patrick's surgery (s) you can do that at our website www.servinghischildren.org or use the link to Paypal on the sidebar of this blog

   
Posted by Renee Bach at 2:25 PM 2 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Thank you so much to all of our 2012 supporters! We couldn't have done it without you.

Take a look...

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all....
Posted by Renee Bach at 9:50 AM 1 comment: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Petra
Tuesday night. October second. I found myself doing one of my least favorite things. But yet there I was…again.

I knelt on the clean tile floor with a sobbing woman bent before me.  And as I spoke softly to her, her tears spilled to the floor and threatened to reach the place where I sat. I tried to explain what was happening in the next room but my own uncontrollable tears made the task difficult… I prayed silently for strength, that the words would come gently.  With love!

But she knew. She already knew the words I was trying to form. She knew why I had left my position by her daughter’s bed and emerged. She knew I had come to inform her that her baby girl was dying.
She knew because just hours earlier she witnessed chaos erupt. She heard the monitor’s alarm sound. She had been rushed out as we all rushed in; the moment her tiny baby of only 2 months stopped breathing.

That moment marked the start of a journey. A journey that I do not desire to take again, but a journey that I wouldn’t trade for anything of this world…

After only 5 days with us, Ruth, more commonly known around our house as “Mamma Petra,” was about to experience the most horrible and unforgettable thing a parent can ever go through. And as I sat there in front of her, I couldn’t make the words come out.  I couldn’t tell her, a woman I hardly knew…yet my heart was so heavy with sorrow for.  I looked up at her tear stricken face and in that same instant she looked me right in the eye. It’s as if she could see into my brokenness and she simply said “Thank you”. That’s when I knew. She already knew.

I still did my best to describe what was happening around her.  I explained that for over 30 minutes her child had not breathed; that we had to help her every breath. And that she was completely unconscious and unresponsive. I explained that while her heart was still beating, it was probably only a matter of a short time before her body would become too weak and shut down completely. I repeated over and over, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

30 minutes turned into an hour. An hour into almost 2… Bagging constantly. No breathes.

Finally Mama Petra gathered enough courage and she walked through the door where we were all hovered over a small bed. Her eyes widened; she looked around at all the people. Equipment and papers littering the room, medications of every kind scattered about. When her eyes found and locked on her baby…that is a moment I will never forget.  She walked closer and looked frightened at the sight of her child. Frightened by the mask engulfing her face; horrified by all the tubes and cords attached to her frail body. She seemed to not have any words.  A few minutes passed. Nothing.  I broke the silence with a whisper, “Can we pray?”.  Slow nods were seen from every direction.

As we gathered around the small hospital bed, we continued to fill her tiny lungs over and over with hand-operated oxygen.  I began to pray aloud. Not praying for a “miracle” necessarily, but just for God’s presence to be felt among us. For his purpose to prevail in the life of Petra!
 
In less then 15 minutes the baby before us began to stir. Then right before our eyes she started to breathe on her own! 

10 minutes later she stopped again. Moments later she began taking breaths once more. This continued all night. And all the next day, and the next.  We watched continually, every minute we observed her small chest rise and fall; literally every minute, waiting for her lungs to give out. And they did, again and again. But with some assistance and heavy prayer the rise and fall would begin again, and again and again. Every time I reached for that bag I felt sure that she had taken her last breath.  And every time God would whisper to my heart “Not yet. Still again.”

We settled ourselves in, thinking that we would pour into this tiny life for another day or so, but all the while knowing that in the end God would take her.  It didn’t seem possible for it to end any other way.

One week passed by. Baby Petra still occupied a crib in our clinic; still on heavy oxygen, intense feeding/medication schedules and around the clock monitoring. But still alive!

2 weeks passed. The same; no improvement.

Baby Petra saw numerous Doctors, as well as a Physicians Assistant from America who was living and working at Serving His Children at the time.  We were baffled.  How her little body was still holding strong was a mystery. And why her body in this state to begin with was an even bigger one. We were dealing with things far beyond malnutrition, but what? She constantly needed blood transfusions. Her lungs were unable to handle breathing without the support of oxygen for more then a few minutes. And while she wasn’t in a coma anymore, she barely moved at all.  What were we missing? We ran test after test…but nothing stood out.

So we continued doing what we knew, and had been instructed to do…

Day in and day out worship music would float out the door of the clinic.  This might sound crazy, but that little girl seemed to be so sensitive to the Spirit.  She loved music, and would calm at the sound of soft prayers spoken aloud over her!

I remember one day I was called down to the clinic in the middle of the night, I happened to not already be there….  When I reached the door, before even entered I was met by the sound of water bubbles; lungs completely full with fluid. So loud that I couldn’t even hear the sound of her heartbeat. Fear found me in that moment. I felt in the pit of my stomach, that this was it. This was the end.  I carefully picked up her weak little body in my arms, kissing that beautiful little head of dark curls and breathed a prayer of praise. In that instant the sound silenced. As if the liquid that threatened to drown her just evaporated into thin air. I was awe-struck. Uncontrollable tears flowed.  Amazed by the power of words simply whispered unto God, privileged to witness the miraculous works of the Most High!
Things like this continued to happen. God performed literal miracles everyday to keep this girl alive. Everyday! Everyday He would do something completely miraculous, just to remind us “Hey, don’t worry., I’m in control. I got this!”  If I tried to tell you all of the things God did, I feel confident that you would not even believe me.  I almost don’t believe it myself. 

Finally, we braved Kampala (the Capital City) in hopes of finding more solid answers. We took her to one of the best private hospitals in Uganda and did a whole new workup as well as saw several Specialists.  But by the middle of the day hope was dwindling. No one could find anything substantially wrong, don’t get me wrong, they were all shocked by her condition, and after briefly reading through her file they were incredibly perplexed. But still no idea as to what was causing her to be “stuck” in this state.  Until we saw the last Doctor of the day….  Literally the minute he came in and saw her he said, “Oh, she has Fanconi Anemia”.  He had read her extensive file prior to entering the room so he was aware of her constant need for blood transfusions and all her past history leading up that very day.

He explained what Fanconi Anima actually was, and we were devastated. It is terminal and the prognosis for life expectancy is very short. The only way to give her more then a couple weeks was to have a bone marrow transplant. That procedure is not done in Uganda, nor would she have been able to withstand the surgery, even if it were possible.  Everything about her condition pointed to Fanconi, and we started coming to terms with what we had just been told.

We were advised to take her home and try to get her to a point where she could return to her actual home, and let her live her last few weeks there, with her family.

So that day, with heavy hearts, we drove back to Jinja.  Hope fading into the distance…

Days went by.  Then days turned into weeks. There were ups and downs, of course, but things seemed to remain the same; “Stablely Unstable” as we called it. We were all exhausted; worn to the very core, emotionally and physically. We were in what felt like a constant uphill battle for the life we so tenderly devoted our days to.  Sometimes I felt like God was just using Petra to test my strength,, and observe my level of perseverance…

With weary hearts and bodies, one again we continued.

We kept fighting. We kept praying. Daily lifting this precious child up to the throne of our Heavenly Father; the God of healing! We were even joined in the fight by hundreds around the world, interceding on behalf of a small child that they had never even met. If that’s not humbling I don’t know what is.

Day in and day out worship music floated softly out the door of the clinic.  This might sound crazy, but that little girl seemed so sensitive to the Spirit.  She loved music, and would calm at the sound of soft prayers spoken aloud over her!

Sticky notes with scripture written on them started to appear on her bedposts. And then quickly began to grow in number. As we prayed, we wrote scripture. Literally covering her in the word of God; holding fast to its promises!


It started to get harder. I had given everything I had to this small child, and I was so weary. I cried out to God-out of desperation, and also pure exhaustion.  We were doing everything we possibly could, but there was very little improvement.  And always just when we felt we were making headway, she would take a major dive for the worse and then slowly (or sometimes not so slowly) she would climb back up again to her “stabley unstable” state of existence.

We were on a continual emotional roller coaster…

31 days after we began our journey with Petra, it was decided that we would transfer her to the large government hospital in Kampala, “Malogo”.  I for one was extremely uneasy about the situation, but it seemed like the only option we had left. In Malogo she would have the chance to be seen by medical professionals from all over Uganda, and there was that small possibility that someone would know more about her persisting condition. 

With Petra having been off oxygen for 2 days, we made our way back to Kampala with slightly more ease then the previous trip. She was quickly admitted, and from there was moved from ward to ward, being assessed by numerous Doctors. Still, no conclusive answers were found…  3 weeks later we were told to bring her back and continue her treatment plan from Masese.

That day as I pulled our SUV through the big red gate that marks the entrance of Serving His Children…Petra and mom beside me.  As I parked and turned of the engine my eyes wandered over to Mamma Petra… Her smile reached all the way into her big brown eyes again.  She was “home”. Her baby was alive.  Her heart was full.

There was a joyous eruption that took place when Mamma Petra emerged from the car! The same community of people who had so faithfully stood beside this mother during times of great despair were now full of joy!! The very ladies who had sat beside, prayed for, and wept with her now leaped with gladness.  The same audience who watched her hope every morning that God would give her just one more day with her child, they were now welcoming her back with great excitement! Smiles were spread wide as the celebration continued!

And the rest, well it's history...

Petra and her Mom stayed with us for only another 2 weeks before it was determined that she was fit to return home! We could all hardly believe what we had seen. What we had witnessed.  We have only to praise!

The evidence of miracles!


It’s been almost 4 weeks since we waved goodbye and watched Petra and her parents walk back out through that very same red gate, discharge paper in hand. And I have to say; my mind still doesn’t fully comprehend what transpired in those months. I sit here at my kitchen table and think back on all the moments of fear, confusion, and fatigue that often marked the path of Petra’s days here. I would sit up all night on a stool till my back aced, praying for God's favor. But above those things, I remember the peace that was ever present in my heart. I flip through her rather large file and hold back tears. I see the bed that was once hers. Now empty...but only empty in the physical sense. Still filled on all sides with little colored paper squares. Scriptures written. Promises made.
 

"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful"

A promise held true!






Posted by Renee Bach at 12:29 PM 8 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
Sunday, June 3, 2012

Taste and see that the Lord is GOOD!






  Fiona



Jonathan             


Reagan


Friday
Sarah


Sillman


Katoya

Patricia

Mary                                                                                 
Shakira

Adrine
Posted by Renee Bach at 3:49 PM 11 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
Monday, May 14, 2012
We need your help.

It was 2am. Not too long after I had actually gone to bed, when I opened my eyes to see one of our night workers standing over my bed…. I jumped so high that I might have scared her more then she actually startled me.  She said, “Auntie Renee, the nurse is calling you. She says you come fast.” I grabbed a sweatshirt and sprinted down the stairs.  As I came down the last step I heard commotion coming from one of the bedrooms down the hall; I headed that way. When I entered the brightly painted blue room I saw that all the mattresses had been moved from their positions on the floor where Mom’s sleep next to baby cribs, and they were now upright against the walls.  All the ladies who had been sleeping just hours ago were now standing around the room wearing worried looks on their faces.  At the back of the room our night nurse stood over a bed. I weaved through the crowd of Moms and hurried to her side.

She began to explain that the child lying in front of me had taken a turn for the worse.  The child who had gone to bed with little reason for concern was now laying in her crib with a very large abdomen, and I mean VERY large.  She was unresponsive with a low pulse…  We needed a Doctor, and we needed one now!

And there we stood. With no Doctor.

What I was guessing to be some kind of an abdominal obstruction needed an ultrasound and a Doctor.  The likelihood of finding either of those things in the middle of the night is slim where I live, if not impossible. Though we had no option but to try.  So as I ran out of the room I shouted back “Get them ready to go please, we leave in 2 minutes.” Our nurse started preparing the baby and mom for transport, and I began grabbing what we needed from the clinic and around the house… 3 minutes later we loaded ourselves into the car and drove out through our big red gate.

Headed for where? I really had no idea, our options were limited, but as I drove down the bumpy dirt road I began racking my brain…. We really did only have 2 options;  try a private clinic where we would probably find a Doctor, though one who would likely not be able to help with the problem at hand, or the government hospital where we would probably be sent from the private clinic anyway though with little hope of finding a Doctor there at all.  As I drove, I prayed. Hard. “Lord guide us! Give me wisdom! Help us find a doctor.” And God sure guided me because before I even knew what I was doing we pulled into the government children’s hospital…

I parked the car in front of the dark, vacant looking building, jumped out quickly and gathered up the bundle of blankets that engulfed our small friend. Trying to speak reassuring words to a very frightened mother, we ran to the entrance. But when I pulled on the handle of the big door in front of us, it didn’t budge. It was locked. We ran to the back where another large door stood open. As we entered it became even darker... Although I know the halls of this hospital like the back of my hand, during the night the floors are full of sleeping people. I carefully balanced the fragile bundle I carried in my arms while fishing around a pocket for my phone; I wanted to illuminate the path so we could avoid tripping over and disturbing the sea of sleeping people laying before us.

As we weaved in, out and around sleeping patients some would look up and give a strange look, as if they were unsure weather they were dreaming, or if a barefoot white woman caring a baby really just did walk by… yes, sometimes I forget my shoes.

Finally we made it to the little room with a sign above the door that read “Emergency”.  As we walked through that doorway I prayed with everything in me that we would just by some miraculous change find a Doctor.  But no, not that night; just a room full of sick children. Not even a nurse in sight. The only working oxygen concentrator was sounding its alarm, attempting to alert someone of a problem. But no one was there…

I started to panic. What were we going to do? This was it. This was our only option and there was not even a bed for the baby I held in my arms.  But in that moment, I felt like I heard a voice saying, “Do not fear. Be not afraid.” Fear doesn't often get me far so I took a deep breath and looked around once more…. And as I looked my heart settled. My mind slipped out of panic mode and I took a deep breath.  Everything was still the same. The louder than loud alarm was still going off, no nurse had suddenly appeared, and the baby girl I was holding was still slowly slipping away. But I looked at the situation with new prospective…with new determination.

The table where they do examinations was wide open so I got our little friend situated, left our nurse to watch her (as well as check on the malfunctioning oxygen situation), and headed back out into the dark hall….in search of someone, anyone who could help us.

After knocking on just about every door in the hospital I found a nurse! She promised to call a Doctor and then disappeared again. I made my way back to the ER and watched. Waited. Prayed! And for almost the next three hours the child in my arms continued to drift away and the doctor never came…

This story, sadly, is a familiar one.  A scenario that is played out for many sick children that God sends into our care.  It is a terrifying and heart wrenching experience for mothers who have sought refuge and help in our home.  As well as frustrating for me as I seek medical expertise beyond my own in a world where it is often just not available.  This story and others like it would be different if we had a Doctor...

God has blessed Serving His Children with an amazing staff, including 3 full time Ugandan nurses and medical equipment that is not even often available in local hospitals.  Still, without the skill of a doctor on staff, we often find ourselves leaving the comforts and equipment in our own clinic for the hope of finding a doctor. All the while small lives literally slowly slip away.

We need a doctor!!  Plain and simple. A doctor who can be there in emergencies, give direction to our nursing staff, and provide an in-house diagnosis for the many complications that come with severe malnutrition.  A doctor who can come along side of us as we strive to save the lives of children that face the horrible reality of malnutrition.  A doctor who shares our passion for serving the Lord and who will pray through crisis and show the great compassion of Jesus to hurting and frightened families!

So my question to you: Will you help us meet this huge need?  Our current and greatest need is to hire a Ugandan doctor.  The second is to hire a Nutritionist.  These two positions will help us to save more lives and relieve significant amounts of stress for our staff.  The cost of a year’s salary for a Ugandan Doctor is $15,000 and $7,000 for a Ugandan Nutritionist.  $22,000 is a lot of money, but it can change and save a whole lot of lives – will you help? Our goal is to start interviewing for both a doctor and a nutritionist by June 15th.  I know that’s soon, but I’m moving towards that date with total trust that God will provide exactly what is needed, at just the right moment!!! 

If you would like to join our team by helping us to hire these crucial professionals, please make a donation either by mailing a check or using our online payment program, and note “Doctor/Nutritionist Salary”

Thank you for praying! Thank you for giving! Thank you for helping us to break the cycle of malnutrition one life at a time!




Posted by Renee Bach at 4:36 PM 12 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
Wednesday, April 18, 2012

“My favorite color is purple! When I was a little girl I had a purple dress!” She said. “Next time can you make my finger nails to be purple?” She struggled to push out each word; just that one sentence left her exhausted. She looked over at me from where she lay. Breathless. But I was unable to look back at the woman stretched out in front of me. My eyes quickly found the tiled floor where I sat. I wanted to hide the stream of tears that was now freely flowing. She asked again. “Mamma Selah, please?” I looked up into her big brown eyes that were sunken deep into her beautiful brown face and said, “Of course we can!” And just as she used everything in her to form those few words it took everything in me to smile. But my smile only went as far as my lips because inside I know that there would not be a next time…

On that warm December night our home was very quiet. It was December 25th. Christmas night. I had come home early from dinner with some of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. I was filled with good food and encouragement as I made my way back to a practically empty and dark malnutrition center. Our big brick house that’s normally ever booming with people, noise, and light was strangely still. This night as I opened the squeaky front door and I stepped into the house I could hear only the crickets outside, and the hum of a refrigerator...but as I moved into the stillness there were faint voices heard in the distance. In the darkness there was light streaming from one small yellow room. I closed the door and made my way through the house, my footsteps echoing in the empty hall, toward the soft voices where 2 ladies that are very near to my heart met me with smiles…

I relieved one of our workers who had come to sit with our only remaining patient, Lydia a 23 year old mother of 3 who had become a dear friend of mine.

For weeks we had been preparing children who were enrolled in our program for discharge-we had pretty much cleared the center out. So by the time Christmas morning came we only had 2 children remaining at our house. Well, one child and one adult. They were both unable to go home because they were in such a severe, advanced state of malnutrition. They both required 24-hour a day care so as others left for home, they remained…

Lydia had lived in our community since before I ever moved to Masese. Over the past few years I have gone through a lot with this sweet friend. We used to buy bananas for feeding program from her. Her oldest son, Allafat was enrolled into our program for 2 months back in 2009. He is now fat and healthy and we see him at our gate and running around near our house almost daily! I sat with her in her empty house after she delivered stillborn twins. I picked her up off the dirt floor and attempted to offer comfort, to tell her that it would be ok even though I knew nothing about losing the life that’s been growing inside of you is just ok. I tested her for HIV and took her to start on ARV treatment when the result was positive. She stayed at my house after her husband forced her out and refused to allow her to see their children. I walked to their house everyday for a week trying to convince him to change his mind. I was there when she delivered a happy, healthy baby girl! I looked in horror as I was told that my friend was dying of anemia because there was no blood. I drove like a mad woman to a small Catholic hospital in the middle of a sugar cane field because they had one unit of blood. I went to the hospital every day with food and literally watched her come back life over the course of a week. I prayed with her every day. Everyday. I sat in the lab with her as she told me that she wanted to know Jesus in her own heart!!! And then she moved to “the village” to stay with her family for a while….

6 months later I got a phone call from her brother who said that Lydia was very sick, so the next morning we went to visit. I don’t think there was a whole lot that could have prepared us for what we would see…

Standing before us was the same woman I’ve always known; when I looked into her eyes I saw little difference but as I looked at her physical body I didn’t see the friend I’d grown to know and love. I saw a frail, thin, tired, very sick woman. My heart broke. I tried not to show the shock I was feeling on my face. When we moved Lydia into our house the next day she weighed a meager 53 pounds. 53.

For days we forced her to take her medicine, eat and drink. It was a constant battle; she had seemingly lost all desire to live. She refused to take the medication that was her only chance at life. We tried and tried. She was counseled, prayed with, prayed over, and over and over again. But as the days passed she continued to grow weaker. She lost the strength to walk, and then even to sit on her own. We were told that there was nothing more we could do. So we just did all we knew. Pray without ceasing, and love unconditionally.

So Christmas day… There we sat, two people, broken and hurting. For different reasons that seemingly felt very much the same. Two people from opposite worlds who had yet been brought together by the God who created us both.

Two people at a loss for words, or was it just that we were unable to speak them…

Earlier that day the other baby girl who had remained, died. She fought so hard but her fragile body just could fight no more. She was in so much pain. God decided to take her to be with him; I know there was a celebration in Heaven as she made her way through those big golden gates!

So there we were at the end of the day, Lydia’s hand in mine. It’s hard to say whether I was holding her hand, or if she was really holding mine. I guess it’s safe to say that we were comforting each other in the silence of those few moments. It was then that I noticed her long beautiful fingers... So much of her body had been overtaken, consumed by her sickness. She was scarcely recognizable. But her hands. And her feet. They remained the same. Almost untouched! I rushed upstairs and dug through my bathroom. After finding what I was in search of I ran back down. She lay still in bed, just the way I left her-her skeletal figure almost invisible underneath a single sheet.

I sat down near her and spoke softly. “Would you like me to paint your finger nails?” She slowly opened her eyes and barely nodded in response.

I picked up one of her limp hands and started to change her dull nails into a bright shade of red! I painted each fingernail slowly, with care. Praying healing over her body. Praying for God to restore strength. To renew what had been lost… To give her the opportunity to use her hands for His glory; to allow her the privilege of holding her baby girl again, even just once more…so that the next time I could paint her fingers purple… because purple was her favorite!

The next day God decided it was time to restore Lydia, to make her completely whole by taking her to be with Him. It was sad to say goodbye. But I know I’ll see her again, dancing in heaven, clothed in many shades of purple!


Posted by Renee Bach at 10:13 PM 9 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to Facebook
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Renee Bach
    "How, then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach if they are not sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" I'm just a girl from a little town in VA, who has felt the call of God to go to a strange country and serve Him! Sometimes I’m scared out of my mind, but then I feel His arms around me, and I hear him say “I am here. Do not be afraid”! So I’m not. I live everyday(in the States or in Uganda)trusting in the unfailing love of my Savior, Jesus Christ!! Knowing that He will care for me, and this mission every step of the way!

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But the greatest of these is LOVE...

Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Happy New Year
I am so, so thankful for each one of you who made Serving His Children's 2013 operations possible!! I saw God move in unbelievable ways and we couldn't have done it without you!

Here is just a little view of what went on here, and what YOU were a part of this past year!

THANK YOU!!!



I am so honored and humbled to be able to be a part of God's kingdom work here in Uganda. I'm ready and excited for another year and hope you will join us on the journey once again... (and who knows, maybe I'll actually blog more then once this year...stay tuned to find out...

Happy New Year!!
Posted by Renee Bach at 4:25 PM 1 comment: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Patrick
We were just finishing up a long outpatient clinic.  I was exhausted…and we still had a 3 hour drive ahead. Being a Monday the health center was bustling with patients from near and far, but it was now close to 5pm. The lines had begun to die down and the nursing staff was just getting around to taking afternoon tea.

I had completed our last patient of the day and my team was starting to pack up in preparation to leave. We had 3 severely malnourished children waiting to be taken with us and the daylight was slowly fading.  In my haste to ready everything and everyone, I heard a noise and quickly looked up…and that’s when I saw him…his pale little face resting on his mamma’s shoulder. Wearing a knitted winter hat and wrapped up, as if it were cold enough to actually warrant winter wear. His big brown eyes seemed to look right at me, and for a moment I stopped; for a short minute I looked at him intently. Had I enrolled this child in our nutrition program? No, I didn’t recall doing an assessment on the child and I wondered how we had missed them…I didn’t recognize him at all. But even from a brief, far off glance I could detect presenting malnutrition. I was in a hurry though. I wanted to start the long drive home. I had patients to care for. I hadn’t eaten all day. And my daughter was waiting for me at home. He would have to be seen at the next clinic.

He slowly closed his eyes as his mom continued to gracefully saunter away from where I was standing, on the veranda of the health center.  Unaware of my watchful glance…

I continued packing.

But something in my heart didn’t feel right. An unsettling feeling washed over me. And so reluctantly I, along with one of my staff trudged after them.  We quickly spotted them walking though a cornfield.  A few minutes later we were making our way back to the health center where we could have a better look at the child and talk to the mother…a cornfield is not always the most conducive for medical assessments.

After a few brief interdictions, Lydia (the mother) quietly explained that ever since Patrick was a couple weeks old his intestines had been outside of his abdomen. Due to an abnormality at birth he was taken to a hospital where a doctor attempted to do a colostomy. But the procedure was not done properly and within a couple of months the colostomy prolapsed, leaving most of his large intestines hanging out of his stomach. Patrick’s parents took him to several hospitals, even the national hospital in Kampala, but by that time all surgeons agreed unanimously: he was too malnourished to undergo the operation. It was far too risky.  So, they went back home. And they waited. They waited for what seemed only inevitable…the death of their son.  As time passed Patrick grew even thinner. He lost his appetite and refused to eat all food completely. He had no desire to walk, and now at the age of almost 3 he hardly even spoke.

That day Lydia had brought another child for malaria treatment, and because Patrick was only content in his Mom’s arms he had come along for the ride.  She was unaware that we were even there. 

It was quickly decided that Patrick and his Mom would be coming with us. We gathered their things. Spoke with Lydia’s husband, and headed out. Finally.

Once Patrick got settled in (and let me tell you he was not happy about the settling) we began to take him to see Doctors and specialist.  He needed surgery and waiting longer wasn’t doing anyone any good, but we continued to hear the same thing “Get him to gain about 8 pounds and then we’ll consider it”. And we tried. We tried to get him to gain weight and he simply would not. He would gain a pound and then lose 2. It was a constant uphill battle.  He was miserable. Poor Lydia was trying so hard! She was the perfect picture of patience. She was always loving, and never failed to serve her child with the upmost kindness.


But after 2 months passed we were only slightly closer to our goal.

We had all tried hard. But Lydia was needed back at home where her other 4 children remained. So with little luck rehabilitating Patrick from our center, we came to the conclusion that we would give it a go from home.

The next week as we drove along the bumpy dirt road towards Manafwa, Patrick and his mom sat quietly in the back seat. 

We enrolled Patrick into our outpatient program and started him on a high calorie, high protein diet. Lydia was a Rockstar! Though she was almost 8 months pregnant she diligently fed and cared for her stubborn toddler son. We saw them every 2 weeks but never saw much change. Good or bad. Then one week Patrick and his Mom didn’t come.  The next time we saw them there was change, but not the kind of change we had prayed for…

That day the little family once again made the journey to Jinja.

After some searching we found a surgeon who agreed that though the surgery was risky Patrick couldn’t live much longer without it-his health would continue to decline because of the loss of fluid and nutrients. He promised that if we could get his weight up to 7 kilograms by August he would operate!!! We were elated. Being only May we had high hopes that it could be done! But, he would have to remain in Jinja for almost 3 months, and Lydia was nearing her due date…all parities agreed and we set to work.

At the beginning of July Selah and I left for the States. We left Patrick in good hands, and returned home 5 weeks later to find him at a happy, healthy weight of 7.2 kg.  He was ready for surgery.

But shortly after our return, before the operation was scheduled, on a Saturday morning Mamma Patrick went into labor. What should have been a joyous celebration of life turned into a heart wrenching night that will forever be ingrained in my mind and heart!  That night, after almost 24 hours of labor, Lydia was taken for an emergency C-section. When they opened her up they found twin baby girls, conjoined in the abdomen.  They both died 2 hours after birth. (That evening is a story in its self. If you would like to know more you can read a blog post by one of our volunteers by Clicking Here ).

So here we are. Over 5 months from the start of our journey together…


Mamma Patrick is slowly healing from the intense trauma of that terrible night. She will forever hold a scar marking the loss of her daughters, but I believe that just as her physical wounds are healing, so are her emotional wounds. So is her heart. Almost every afternoon you will find Patrick and his Mom slowly walking laps around our compound, hand in hand, quietly talking and pointing at things as they pass. Walking towards healing, strengthening their broken bodies. And Patrick, bless his heart is hanging on to those 7 kilos.




So I write to challenge you. To invite you to be a part of this beautiful family! We have seen much tragedy and also so much joy come from watching God unfold this story.  And He is not finished yet.  With Patrick’s baby sisters at his side, He is still scribing! I don’t know what the end will look like. But I do know that somewhere in this next chapter there is a little boy who needs his physical body put back together. Because only then will he one day have the opportunity to invite the fullness of Christ to dwell inside his heart.


Will you be a part of this chapter?

Patrick’s surgery will cost about $1,500-2,000, and he will likely need more then one operation.

If you would like to make a donation to help cover the costs of Patrick's surgery (s) you can do that at our website www.servinghischildren.org or use the link to Paypal on the sidebar of this blog

   
Posted by Renee Bach at 2:25 PM 3 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Thank you so much to all of our 2012 supporters! We couldn't have done it without you.

Take a look...

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all....
Posted by Renee Bach at 9:50 AM 1 comment: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Petra
Tuesday night. October second. I found myself doing one of my least favorite things. But yet there I was…again.

I knelt on the clean tile floor with a sobbing woman bent before me.  And as I spoke softly to her, her tears spilled to the floor and threatened to reach the place where I sat. I tried to explain what was happening in the next room but my own uncontrollable tears made the task difficult… I prayed silently for strength, that the words would come gently.  With love!

But she knew. She already knew the words I was trying to form. She knew why I had left my position by her daughter’s bed and emerged. She knew I had come to inform her that her baby girl was dying.
She knew because just hours earlier she witnessed chaos erupt. She heard the monitor’s alarm sound. She had been rushed out as we all rushed in; the moment her tiny baby of only 2 months stopped breathing.

That moment marked the start of a journey. A journey that I do not desire to take again, but a journey that I wouldn’t trade for anything of this world…

After only 5 days with us, Ruth, more commonly known around our house as “Mamma Petra,” was about to experience the most horrible and unforgettable thing a parent can ever go through. And as I sat there in front of her, I couldn’t make the words come out.  I couldn’t tell her, a woman I hardly knew…yet my heart was so heavy with sorrow for.  I looked up at her tear stricken face and in that same instant she looked me right in the eye. It’s as if she could see into my brokenness and she simply said “Thank you”. That’s when I knew. She already knew.

I still did my best to describe what was happening around her.  I explained that for over 30 minutes her child had not breathed; that we had to help her every breath. And that she was completely unconscious and unresponsive. I explained that while her heart was still beating, it was probably only a matter of a short time before her body would become too weak and shut down completely. I repeated over and over, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

30 minutes turned into an hour. An hour into almost 2… Bagging constantly. No breathes.

Finally Mama Petra gathered enough courage and she walked through the door where we were all hovered over a small bed. Her eyes widened; she looked around at all the people. Equipment and papers littering the room, medications of every kind scattered about. When her eyes found and locked on her baby…that is a moment I will never forget.  She walked closer and looked frightened at the sight of her child. Frightened by the mask engulfing her face; horrified by all the tubes and cords attached to her frail body. She seemed to not have any words.  A few minutes passed. Nothing.  I broke the silence with a whisper, “Can we pray?”.  Slow nods were seen from every direction.

As we gathered around the small hospital bed, we continued to fill her tiny lungs over and over with hand-operated oxygen.  I began to pray aloud. Not praying for a “miracle” necessarily, but just for God’s presence to be felt among us. For his purpose to prevail in the life of Petra!
 
In less then 15 minutes the baby before us began to stir. Then right before our eyes she started to breathe on her own! 

10 minutes later she stopped again. Moments later she began taking breaths once more. This continued all night. And all the next day, and the next.  We watched continually, every minute we observed her small chest rise and fall; literally every minute, waiting for her lungs to give out. And they did, again and again. But with some assistance and heavy prayer the rise and fall would begin again, and again and again. Every time I reached for that bag I felt sure that she had taken her last breath.  And every time God would whisper to my heart “Not yet. Still again.”

We settled ourselves in, thinking that we would pour into this tiny life for another day or so, but all the while knowing that in the end God would take her.  It didn’t seem possible for it to end any other way.

One week passed by. Baby Petra still occupied a crib in our clinic; still on heavy oxygen, intense feeding/medication schedules and around the clock monitoring. But still alive!

2 weeks passed. The same; no improvement.

Baby Petra saw numerous Doctors, as well as a Physicians Assistant from America who was living and working at Serving His Children at the time.  We were baffled.  How her little body was still holding strong was a mystery. And why her body in this state to begin with was an even bigger one. We were dealing with things far beyond malnutrition, but what? She constantly needed blood transfusions. Her lungs were unable to handle breathing without the support of oxygen for more then a few minutes. And while she wasn’t in a coma anymore, she barely moved at all.  What were we missing? We ran test after test…but nothing stood out.

So we continued doing what we knew, and had been instructed to do…

Day in and day out worship music would float out the door of the clinic.  This might sound crazy, but that little girl seemed to be so sensitive to the Spirit.  She loved music, and would calm at the sound of soft prayers spoken aloud over her!

I remember one day I was called down to the clinic in the middle of the night, I happened to not already be there….  When I reached the door, before even entered I was met by the sound of water bubbles; lungs completely full with fluid. So loud that I couldn’t even hear the sound of her heartbeat. Fear found me in that moment. I felt in the pit of my stomach, that this was it. This was the end.  I carefully picked up her weak little body in my arms, kissing that beautiful little head of dark curls and breathed a prayer of praise. In that instant the sound silenced. As if the liquid that threatened to drown her just evaporated into thin air. I was awe-struck. Uncontrollable tears flowed.  Amazed by the power of words simply whispered unto God, privileged to witness the miraculous works of the Most High!
Things like this continued to happen. God performed literal miracles everyday to keep this girl alive. Everyday! Everyday He would do something completely miraculous, just to remind us “Hey, don’t worry., I’m in control. I got this!”  If I tried to tell you all of the things God did, I feel confident that you would not even believe me.  I almost don’t believe it myself. 

Finally, we braved Kampala (the Capital City) in hopes of finding more solid answers. We took her to one of the best private hospitals in Uganda and did a whole new workup as well as saw several Specialists.  But by the middle of the day hope was dwindling. No one could find anything substantially wrong, don’t get me wrong, they were all shocked by her condition, and after briefly reading through her file they were incredibly perplexed. But still no idea as to what was causing her to be “stuck” in this state.  Until we saw the last Doctor of the day….  Literally the minute he came in and saw her he said, “Oh, she has Fanconi Anemia”.  He had read her extensive file prior to entering the room so he was aware of her constant need for blood transfusions and all her past history leading up that very day.

He explained what Fanconi Anima actually was, and we were devastated. It is terminal and the prognosis for life expectancy is very short. The only way to give her more then a couple weeks was to have a bone marrow transplant. That procedure is not done in Uganda, nor would she have been able to withstand the surgery, even if it were possible.  Everything about her condition pointed to Fanconi, and we started coming to terms with what we had just been told.

We were advised to take her home and try to get her to a point where she could return to her actual home, and let her live her last few weeks there, with her family.

So that day, with heavy hearts, we drove back to Jinja.  Hope fading into the distance…

Days went by.  Then days turned into weeks. There were ups and downs, of course, but things seemed to remain the same; “Stablely Unstable” as we called it. We were all exhausted; worn to the very core, emotionally and physically. We were in what felt like a constant uphill battle for the life we so tenderly devoted our days to.  Sometimes I felt like God was just using Petra to test my strength,, and observe my level of perseverance…

With weary hearts and bodies, one again we continued.

We kept fighting. We kept praying. Daily lifting this precious child up to the throne of our Heavenly Father; the God of healing! We were even joined in the fight by hundreds around the world, interceding on behalf of a small child that they had never even met. If that’s not humbling I don’t know what is.

Day in and day out worship music floated softly out the door of the clinic.  This might sound crazy, but that little girl seemed so sensitive to the Spirit.  She loved music, and would calm at the sound of soft prayers spoken aloud over her!

Sticky notes with scripture written on them started to appear on her bedposts. And then quickly began to grow in number. As we prayed, we wrote scripture. Literally covering her in the word of God; holding fast to its promises!


It started to get harder. I had given everything I had to this small child, and I was so weary. I cried out to God-out of desperation, and also pure exhaustion.  We were doing everything we possibly could, but there was very little improvement.  And always just when we felt we were making headway, she would take a major dive for the worse and then slowly (or sometimes not so slowly) she would climb back up again to her “stabley unstable” state of existence.

We were on a continual emotional roller coaster…

31 days after we began our journey with Petra, it was decided that we would transfer her to the large government hospital in Kampala, “Malogo”.  I for one was extremely uneasy about the situation, but it seemed like the only option we had left. In Malogo she would have the chance to be seen by medical professionals from all over Uganda, and there was that small possibility that someone would know more about her persisting condition. 

With Petra having been off oxygen for 2 days, we made our way back to Kampala with slightly more ease then the previous trip. She was quickly admitted, and from there was moved from ward to ward, being assessed by numerous Doctors. Still, no conclusive answers were found…  3 weeks later we were told to bring her back and continue her treatment plan from Masese.

That day as I pulled our SUV through the big red gate that marks the entrance of Serving His Children…Petra and mom beside me.  As I parked and turned of the engine my eyes wandered over to Mamma Petra… Her smile reached all the way into her big brown eyes again.  She was “home”. Her baby was alive.  Her heart was full.

There was a joyous eruption that took place when Mamma Petra emerged from the car! The same community of people who had so faithfully stood beside this mother during times of great despair were now full of joy!! The very ladies who had sat beside, prayed for, and wept with her now leaped with gladness.  The same audience who watched her hope every morning that God would give her just one more day with her child, they were now welcoming her back with great excitement! Smiles were spread wide as the celebration continued!

And the rest, well it's history...

Petra and her Mom stayed with us for only another 2 weeks before it was determined that she was fit to return home! We could all hardly believe what we had seen. What we had witnessed.  We have only to praise!

The evidence of miracles!


It’s been almost 4 weeks since we waved goodbye and watched Petra and her parents walk back out through that very same red gate, discharge paper in hand. And I have to say; my mind still doesn’t fully comprehend what transpired in those months. I sit here at my kitchen table and think back on all the moments of fear, confusion, and fatigue that often marked the path of Petra’s days here. I would sit up all night on a stool till my back aced, praying for God's favor. But above those things, I remember the peace that was ever present in my heart. I flip through her rather large file and hold back tears. I see the bed that was once hers. Now empty...but only empty in the physical sense. Still filled on all sides with little colored paper squares. Scriptures written. Promises made.
 

"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful"

A promise held true!






Posted by Renee Bach at 12:29 PM 8 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Sunday, June 3, 2012

Taste and see that the Lord is GOOD!






  Fiona



Jonathan             


Reagan


Friday
Sarah


Sillman


Katoya

Patricia

Mary                                                                                 
Shakira

Adrine
Posted by Renee Bach at 3:49 PM 11 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Monday, May 14, 2012
We need your help.

It was 2am. Not too long after I had actually gone to bed, when I opened my eyes to see one of our night workers standing over my bed…. I jumped so high that I might have scared her more then she actually startled me.  She said, “Auntie Renee, the nurse is calling you. She says you come fast.” I grabbed a sweatshirt and sprinted down the stairs.  As I came down the last step I heard commotion coming from one of the bedrooms down the hall; I headed that way. When I entered the brightly painted blue room I saw that all the mattresses had been moved from their positions on the floor where Mom’s sleep next to baby cribs, and they were now upright against the walls.  All the ladies who had been sleeping just hours ago were now standing around the room wearing worried looks on their faces.  At the back of the room our night nurse stood over a bed. I weaved through the crowd of Moms and hurried to her side.

She began to explain that the child lying in front of me had taken a turn for the worse.  The child who had gone to bed with little reason for concern was now laying in her crib with a very large abdomen, and I mean VERY large.  She was unresponsive with a low pulse…  We needed a Doctor, and we needed one now!

And there we stood. With no Doctor.

What I was guessing to be some kind of an abdominal obstruction needed an ultrasound and a Doctor.  The likelihood of finding either of those things in the middle of the night is slim where I live, if not impossible. Though we had no option but to try.  So as I ran out of the room I shouted back “Get them ready to go please, we leave in 2 minutes.” Our nurse started preparing the baby and mom for transport, and I began grabbing what we needed from the clinic and around the house… 3 minutes later we loaded ourselves into the car and drove out through our big red gate.

Headed for where? I really had no idea, our options were limited, but as I drove down the bumpy dirt road I began racking my brain…. We really did only have 2 options;  try a private clinic where we would probably find a Doctor, though one who would likely not be able to help with the problem at hand, or the government hospital where we would probably be sent from the private clinic anyway though with little hope of finding a Doctor there at all.  As I drove, I prayed. Hard. “Lord guide us! Give me wisdom! Help us find a doctor.” And God sure guided me because before I even knew what I was doing we pulled into the government children’s hospital…

I parked the car in front of the dark, vacant looking building, jumped out quickly and gathered up the bundle of blankets that engulfed our small friend. Trying to speak reassuring words to a very frightened mother, we ran to the entrance. But when I pulled on the handle of the big door in front of us, it didn’t budge. It was locked. We ran to the back where another large door stood open. As we entered it became even darker... Although I know the halls of this hospital like the back of my hand, during the night the floors are full of sleeping people. I carefully balanced the fragile bundle I carried in my arms while fishing around a pocket for my phone; I wanted to illuminate the path so we could avoid tripping over and disturbing the sea of sleeping people laying before us.

As we weaved in, out and around sleeping patients some would look up and give a strange look, as if they were unsure weather they were dreaming, or if a barefoot white woman caring a baby really just did walk by… yes, sometimes I forget my shoes.

Finally we made it to the little room with a sign above the door that read “Emergency”.  As we walked through that doorway I prayed with everything in me that we would just by some miraculous change find a Doctor.  But no, not that night; just a room full of sick children. Not even a nurse in sight. The only working oxygen concentrator was sounding its alarm, attempting to alert someone of a problem. But no one was there…

I started to panic. What were we going to do? This was it. This was our only option and there was not even a bed for the baby I held in my arms.  But in that moment, I felt like I heard a voice saying, “Do not fear. Be not afraid.” Fear doesn't often get me far so I took a deep breath and looked around once more…. And as I looked my heart settled. My mind slipped out of panic mode and I took a deep breath.  Everything was still the same. The louder than loud alarm was still going off, no nurse had suddenly appeared, and the baby girl I was holding was still slowly slipping away. But I looked at the situation with new prospective…with new determination.

The table where they do examinations was wide open so I got our little friend situated, left our nurse to watch her (as well as check on the malfunctioning oxygen situation), and headed back out into the dark hall….in search of someone, anyone who could help us.

After knocking on just about every door in the hospital I found a nurse! She promised to call a Doctor and then disappeared again. I made my way back to the ER and watched. Waited. Prayed! And for almost the next three hours the child in my arms continued to drift away and the doctor never came…

This story, sadly, is a familiar one.  A scenario that is played out for many sick children that God sends into our care.  It is a terrifying and heart wrenching experience for mothers who have sought refuge and help in our home.  As well as frustrating for me as I seek medical expertise beyond my own in a world where it is often just not available.  This story and others like it would be different if we had a Doctor...

God has blessed Serving His Children with an amazing staff, including 3 full time Ugandan nurses and medical equipment that is not even often available in local hospitals.  Still, without the skill of a doctor on staff, we often find ourselves leaving the comforts and equipment in our own clinic for the hope of finding a doctor. All the while small lives literally slowly slip away.

We need a doctor!!  Plain and simple. A doctor who can be there in emergencies, give direction to our nursing staff, and provide an in-house diagnosis for the many complications that come with severe malnutrition.  A doctor who can come along side of us as we strive to save the lives of children that face the horrible reality of malnutrition.  A doctor who shares our passion for serving the Lord and who will pray through crisis and show the great compassion of Jesus to hurting and frightened families!

So my question to you: Will you help us meet this huge need?  Our current and greatest need is to hire a Ugandan doctor.  The second is to hire a Nutritionist.  These two positions will help us to save more lives and relieve significant amounts of stress for our staff.  The cost of a year’s salary for a Ugandan Doctor is $15,000 and $7,000 for a Ugandan Nutritionist.  $22,000 is a lot of money, but it can change and save a whole lot of lives – will you help? Our goal is to start interviewing for both a doctor and a nutritionist by June 15th.  I know that’s soon, but I’m moving towards that date with total trust that God will provide exactly what is needed, at just the right moment!!! 

If you would like to join our team by helping us to hire these crucial professionals, please make a donation either by mailing a check or using our online payment program, and note “Doctor/Nutritionist Salary”

Thank you for praying! Thank you for giving! Thank you for helping us to break the cycle of malnutrition one life at a time!




Posted by Renee Bach at 4:36 PM 12 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
Wednesday, April 18, 2012

“My favorite color is purple! When I was a little girl I had a purple dress!” She said. “Next time can you make my finger nails to be purple?” She struggled to push out each word; just that one sentence left her exhausted. She looked over at me from where she lay. Breathless. But I was unable to look back at the woman stretched out in front of me. My eyes quickly found the tiled floor where I sat. I wanted to hide the stream of tears that was now freely flowing. She asked again. “Mamma Selah, please?” I looked up into her big brown eyes that were sunken deep into her beautiful brown face and said, “Of course we can!” And just as she used everything in her to form those few words it took everything in me to smile. But my smile only went as far as my lips because inside I know that there would not be a next time…

On that warm December night our home was very quiet. It was December 25th. Christmas night. I had come home early from dinner with some of the best friends anyone could ever ask for. I was filled with good food and encouragement as I made my way back to a practically empty and dark malnutrition center. Our big brick house that’s normally ever booming with people, noise, and light was strangely still. This night as I opened the squeaky front door and I stepped into the house I could hear only the crickets outside, and the hum of a refrigerator...but as I moved into the stillness there were faint voices heard in the distance. In the darkness there was light streaming from one small yellow room. I closed the door and made my way through the house, my footsteps echoing in the empty hall, toward the soft voices where 2 ladies that are very near to my heart met me with smiles…

I relieved one of our workers who had come to sit with our only remaining patient, Lydia a 23 year old mother of 3 who had become a dear friend of mine.

For weeks we had been preparing children who were enrolled in our program for discharge-we had pretty much cleared the center out. So by the time Christmas morning came we only had 2 children remaining at our house. Well, one child and one adult. They were both unable to go home because they were in such a severe, advanced state of malnutrition. They both required 24-hour a day care so as others left for home, they remained…

Lydia had lived in our community since before I ever moved to Masese. Over the past few years I have gone through a lot with this sweet friend. We used to buy bananas for feeding program from her. Her oldest son, Allafat was enrolled into our program for 2 months back in 2009. He is now fat and healthy and we see him at our gate and running around near our house almost daily! I sat with her in her empty house after she delivered stillborn twins. I picked her up off the dirt floor and attempted to offer comfort, to tell her that it would be ok even though I knew nothing about losing the life that’s been growing inside of you is just ok. I tested her for HIV and took her to start on ARV treatment when the result was positive. She stayed at my house after her husband forced her out and refused to allow her to see their children. I walked to their house everyday for a week trying to convince him to change his mind. I was there when she delivered a happy, healthy baby girl! I looked in horror as I was told that my friend was dying of anemia because there was no blood. I drove like a mad woman to a small Catholic hospital in the middle of a sugar cane field because they had one unit of blood. I went to the hospital every day with food and literally watched her come back life over the course of a week. I prayed with her every day. Everyday. I sat in the lab with her as she told me that she wanted to know Jesus in her own heart!!! And then she moved to “the village” to stay with her family for a while….

6 months later I got a phone call from her brother who said that Lydia was very sick, so the next morning we went to visit. I don’t think there was a whole lot that could have prepared us for what we would see…

Standing before us was the same woman I’ve always known; when I looked into her eyes I saw little difference but as I looked at her physical body I didn’t see the friend I’d grown to know and love. I saw a frail, thin, tired, very sick woman. My heart broke. I tried not to show the shock I was feeling on my face. When we moved Lydia into our house the next day she weighed a meager 53 pounds. 53.

For days we forced her to take her medicine, eat and drink. It was a constant battle; she had seemingly lost all desire to live. She refused to take the medication that was her only chance at life. We tried and tried. She was counseled, prayed with, prayed over, and over and over again. But as the days passed she continued to grow weaker. She lost the strength to walk, and then even to sit on her own. We were told that there was nothing more we could do. So we just did all we knew. Pray without ceasing, and love unconditionally.

So Christmas day… There we sat, two people, broken and hurting. For different reasons that seemingly felt very much the same. Two people from opposite worlds who had yet been brought together by the God who created us both.

Two people at a loss for words, or was it just that we were unable to speak them…

Earlier that day the other baby girl who had remained, died. She fought so hard but her fragile body just could fight no more. She was in so much pain. God decided to take her to be with him; I know there was a celebration in Heaven as she made her way through those big golden gates!

So there we were at the end of the day, Lydia’s hand in mine. It’s hard to say whether I was holding her hand, or if she was really holding mine. I guess it’s safe to say that we were comforting each other in the silence of those few moments. It was then that I noticed her long beautiful fingers... So much of her body had been overtaken, consumed by her sickness. She was scarcely recognizable. But her hands. And her feet. They remained the same. Almost untouched! I rushed upstairs and dug through my bathroom. After finding what I was in search of I ran back down. She lay still in bed, just the way I left her-her skeletal figure almost invisible underneath a single sheet.

I sat down near her and spoke softly. “Would you like me to paint your finger nails?” She slowly opened her eyes and barely nodded in response.

I picked up one of her limp hands and started to change her dull nails into a bright shade of red! I painted each fingernail slowly, with care. Praying healing over her body. Praying for God to restore strength. To renew what had been lost… To give her the opportunity to use her hands for His glory; to allow her the privilege of holding her baby girl again, even just once more…so that the next time I could paint her fingers purple… because purple was her favorite!

The next day God decided it was time to restore Lydia, to make her completely whole by taking her to be with Him. It was sad to say goodbye. But I know I’ll see her again, dancing in heaven, clothed in many shades of purple!


Posted by Renee Bach at 10:13 PM 9 comments: Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest
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    "How, then can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach if they are not sent? As it is written, how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!" I'm just a girl from a little town in VA, who has felt the call of God to go to a strange country and serve Him! Sometimes I’m scared out of my mind, but then I feel His arms around me, and I hear him say “I am here. Do not be afraid”! So I’m not. I live everyday(in the States or in Uganda)trusting in the unfailing love of my Savior, Jesus Christ!! Knowing that He will care for me, and this mission every step of the way!

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