Life is fragile

The MAF compound in N'Djamena is in a very mixed neighbourhood. Within just a few blocks of our front gate there are several very large, modern houses (some with swimming pools) and a number of houses that have been turned into offices for government departments or NGOs. In between are plots that contain a multitude of small  'huts' made of rough bricks and corrugated roofing sheets, where the children (who play in the streets and wave enthusiastically as you drive pass) all live with their families.

Life is tough for these people, who are more typical of the average Chadian than those who live in the big houses. They have to collect their water from a borehole that is shared by many other families, they don't have electricity, when it rains their houses leak and the ground around them becomes flooded, the children don't seem to go to school, the men mostly work as day labourers (if they work at all) and the women carry most of the responsibility for the day-to-day running of the home.

Just after I arrived back in Chad a few weeks ago a few of us were driving out of our compound when we spotted a lady walking along the side of the road, with a baby strapped to her back. We recognised her as our neighbour, Sabine, from across the street. She smiled at us and we stopped the car to talk to her. The baby (who was about six months old and still very tiny) had been sick recently and one of the MAF team had visited the family and tried to help. It was unclear what was wrong with the baby (a common situation in a country where good medical care is hard to find, especially for the poorest people) and although he had been in hospital Sabine said he was now much better.

When I left for the office yesterday morning there were a number of men sitting on mats outside the neighbour's compound. This gathering of people, who arrive early in the morning and stay until after dark, usually signifies that a rite of passage is taking place - a birth, a naming, a marriage or a funeral.

I heard later in the day that it was in fact a funeral. Sabine's baby had died the night before and the extended family had come to mark his passing. Life here is fragile.