Well, I do. Because the power of music unites humanity, while politics and religion divide us. I wasnt planning on releasing a second song for Christmas, but the recent events in the world leave me no choice. Our world has gone mad and everything is out of control.
THE MIRACLE OF MUSIC will be released on December 1st 2023, right on time for Christmas. The song is about unity, togetherness, peace and harmony. Hopefully, it will inspire everyone who is against war and motivate our incapable world leaders that our crazy world could be such a beautiful, peaceful and harmonic place if we ALL get along like music instruments.
We like to use this post and say THANK YOU to all our listeners and readers who are enjoying our music and books. We wish you all a blessed holiday season with your loved ones. Play music as often as you can and dance! Every day should be celebrated like Christmas day and new years day!
In my upcoming posts, I'm sharing true success stories to show you CBM's incredible work and to inspire you to support this wonderful charity! I like to thank CBM SWISS for trusting me and sharing these beautiful life stories.
Mohameds story
It
was one year ago when the problems started. Mohamed had just started in first
grade at school when he was sent home by his teacher. “The teacher called me
and said Mohamed couldn’t see well”, his mother Jacqueline John (35) says. Not
even when he was sitting in the first row of the class he could read what was
written on the blackboard. He couldn’t manage to write letters or numbers down.
And he couldn’t read the small letters in books as well. The exam at the end of
the year revealed the whole problem: Mohamed was last of his class. So he had
to quit school. “His teacher said he can’t teach him anything when Mohamed
can’t see”, Jacqueline says and shakes her head in a helpless way.
Since then Mohamed stays at home the whole day. Alone – since the
other children all go to school, also his bigger sister. “He is jealous”, his
mother says. “He wants to go to school. Every morning when his sister is
leaving he cries.” Jacqueline sighs. She and her husband try to teach Mohamed
by themselves. But it is just not the same as going to school. “I want my son
to go to school. But I can’t afford to bring him to a doctor”, Jacqueline
explains her problem. Although she is working hard as a farmer selling
vegetables to her neighbours and her husband is every day on search for work as
a daily labourer on fields or construction areas the family is poor. The four
of them live in Kijenge juu, a part of Arusha in northern Tanzania. They have a
small mud house with two little rooms. One is completely filled with a bed for
the parents, the second is cramped with a bed for the kids and three armchairs.
You have to climb over them to reach the bed.
When the night falls and it is getting darker inside the house
Mohamed can’t see anything. He has no chance to move around independently. But
even when outside in the sunlight he has problems. “He can only see big
objects, not small things”, his mother narrates. “He often makes a telescope
with his hands to try to see better.” She demonstrates it with her own hands.
Since his sight started to vanish more and more he has problems to play his
favourite game: football. “The other children tease him therefor”, Jacqueline
says. “He often comes home crying and being angry.” Being bound to the house is
not what Mohamed likes at all. He is very lively, loves to run around and learn
new things. He hates to sit around. Being forced to watch her son struggle
without being able to help him makes Jacqueline feeling miserable. “To imagine
he could get blind is terrifying me!” Her voice breaks and she has to dry her
tears with her kanga (her skirt): “I am sad, very sad.”
When she hears one day that KCMC is treating children like her son
free of cost she is immediately full of hope. She brings her son to the
CBM-funded hospital in Moshi which is 1,5 hours by car away from her home. At
KCMC Mohamed is examined by paediatric ophthalmologist Dr. Godfrey Furahini.
The diagnosis: congenital bilateral cataract. Mohamed can only see 6/60. That
means: “Mohamed can only see the biggest letter of the Snellen chart from 6
metres distance”, the doctor explains to mother Jacqueline. “We have to operate
him.”
Day of the operation: Dr. Nicholas Kitunga leads Mohamed into the
operation theatre. He is very caring with the boy, distracts him with a blown
up glove on which he painted a smiling face and talks to him in a very calm
tone until the boy falls asleep. Now it is the job of Dr. Mchikirwa Msina to
replace Mohamed’s lenses with artificial ones. After around two hours the
operation is done and Mohamed is rolled in his bed out of the theatre towards
his waiting mum.
A day later: When nurse Sarah Lutabingwa comes to Mohamed’s bed to
remove his bandages he is already waiting for it. After the removal he doesn’t
open his eyes for some minutes, suddenly shy. But then he blinks – and from
then on starts to look at his surroundings with curiosity, pointing with one
finger to anyone who passes by in the ward. Towards the visual acuity test he
walks already without a helping hand. He easily and with TZA-19-0514_story.pdf
self-confidence reads out the letters of the second line of the Snellen chart
from six metres distance, with glasses he manages even to read the sixth line.
“This is an improvement”, optometrist Zeno Mkenda says. She will adjust glasses
to the boy’s eyes in 4 weeks when his eyes are stable after the operation. “He
will be able to go to school for sure”, she says and points laughing on the boy
who has started to read the smallest letters on the reading test in his hands.
“He will be able to read everything!”
Back at home Mohamed is eager to test his new ability. He gets out
one of his old notebooks and a pencil and tries to write: “Mama” he writes down
in big letters. Then he looks up and smiles broadly. It works! Now he is ready to
go outside and play football with his friends Elias and Joshua. Soon the
laughter of the three boys can be heard along the whole street. Mohamed’s
mother watches her son and looks like she can’t decide either to laugh or cry:
“I am very happy. My dream came true.” When the doctors allow Mohamed at the
next check[1]up
in two weeks to go to school she wants to send him there immediately – even if
the school year has started already. Her son shall learn – and one day be able
to fulfil all his dreams. “I thank all CBM-donors who made this possible!”, she
says
In my upcoming posts, I'm sharing true success stories to show you CBM's incredible work and to inspire you to support this wonderful charity! I like to thank CBM SWISS for trusting me and sharing these beautiful life stories.
Ramadhanis Story
When Ramadhani was 3 months old his mother Jena Mgarya
(24) detected a white spot in his right eye. She brought her son to a local
hospital in Muheza/Tanzania, where she lives with her family. There, the
doctors couldn’t help the boy but referred him to the CBM-funded hospital CCBRT in
Dar Es Salaam. Jena saved some money to buy a bus ticket and made the long
journey – but without a happy end.
At the hospital, the doctors diagnosed a cataract
but couldn’t operate because of Ramadhani’s blood clotting was not good enough.
Mother and son had to travel home where the little boy should take some drugs
to improve the blood clotting and then come back. But a second bus ticket to
Dar Es Salaam was too expensive for the family. Jena and her husband have four
children but never enough money. While the father is a daily worker the mother
breaks stones at home. Together they earn 0,5 Dollar a day – to feed 4
children. So Ramadhani was not operated.
The white spot in his right eye grew. And he also slowly
lost the vision of his left eye. Today he is blind on the right eye and has
very poor vision on the left. “He stumbles often and falls down”, his mother
says. “He often hurts himself.” He loves to play ball with other kids but this
is nearly impossible by now. “When he wants to see something he has to get very
close to it and cover one eye with his hand”, Jena says. While playing ball
this is not practical. Although the other kids are kind and always show him
where the ball is he can’t really play with them anymore. He simply is too
slow. But still he tries. “I like football”, he quips. In fact he would love to
kick the ball but in reality he always is the keeper – and not the best one.
“When the sun is shining I cannot see the ball. That is not fair”, he says.
“The other kids make goals then.”
“Everything that other kids can do, he cannot”, his mum
says. She describes that he needs help with nearly everything in daily life:
from eating till going to the toilet she has to give him a hand. But most
heartbreaking for her is to see him suffer. “He says he doesn’t feel like a
normal child. He says that this is not fair. He often cries.” Especially when
his siblings go to school – and he has to stay at home alone. “He never has
been to school”, Jena says and explains why: Despite the fact that he could not
have seen anything on the blackboard she didn’t dare to send him there because
he would have to cross a street. “Trucks and busses come down this street very
fast. And Ramadhani cannot see them.” Every try to cross the street would
threaten his life. So, the boy stays at home when his siblings leave. “And
every day he says: Mum, I also want to go to school”, she says. She breathes
deeply. “It is painful for me to see this.” Ramadhani turns his face towards
his mum when he hears her speaking. When asked what his biggest wish is, he
answers: “I want to go to school!”
One day when the family had lost hope for long a car came by
their house and made an announcement by megaphone that immediately thrilled
them all: A general outreach of CBM[1]funded hospital KCMC
in Moshi would take place in the neighbourhood soon. And whoever needs medical
help would get it – free of costs! Jena and her sons walked there and where
brought from the team to KCMC in Moshi – to finally heal Ramadhani’s cataract.
When they arrive at KCMC they take a seat in the waiting
area in front of the examination room. Lots of kids are running around, playing
with toys. But not Ramadhani. He curiously turns his head towards the laughter
of the kids, his eyes halfway closed in a desperate attempt to see anything.
But he keeps on sitting on the wooden bench, one hand clings to the back of the
bench as if he was afraid to lose orientation. Then he is called in to see the doctor.
When Dr. Godfrey Furahini examines the boy at the slitlamp. His diagnosis:
bilateral cataract. He frowns in frustration when he examines the boy’s right
eye. “On his right eye he has only light perception”, he explains. And really:
When Ramadhani turns his head towards the light of the doctor’s torch but
doesn’t react on his waving fingers. “Since he was born with cataract on this
eye and is already ten years old the prognosis after operation is not so good.”
But then his face brightens up. “But we can for sure save his eyesight on the
left eye with the operation!”
And also in this regard, Ramadhani receives help at KCMC – an
otitis media was diagnosed and treated immediately. At home, he would never
have been helped.
On the day of the operation (both eyes in one surgery) the
boy is the last one in a queue of children patients. He has to wait long until
it is his turn to go into the theatre but he doesn’t complain. Like usual he
silently sits on the bench in the waiting area. Not talking, not moving, his
head hanging down. When he is called inside the theatre he bravely goes –
without shedding a tear. After the operation, he sleeps long, again without
crying. When the nurse Sarah Lutabingwa comes to the ward the next morning
to remove the bandages of his eyes he is not as excited as many other kids. He
seems not to expect any change. After the bandages are removed he doesn’t open
his eyes for long. His mum has to convince him until he slowly starts blinking
and opening his eyes. But still, he doesn’t say a word, only looks at his right
hand intensely – with a look of absent wonder on his face. He seems not to
notice that he doesn’t have to hold his hand as close to his eyes as usual!
But on the next day, he realized that his life had
changed – and how! Again sitting on the bench in front of the doctor’s room.
But this time he is not moveless at all. He cannot sit silently for a second,
swings his legs, looks down, suddenly detects his moving feet under the bench,
bends down and stares at them, sees his hand at the edge of the bench, moving
them while looking at them with a broad smile on his face that had not been
there all the days before. Then it is time for doing the eye test with
optometrist Zeno Mkenda. The right eye hasn’t improved much by now as
expected. But at least he can now see the movement of a hand not only light.
But the left eye has changed! He can read until the third line of the Snellen
chart (6/24), with glasses even until the very last line! Of course, he doesn’t
know the letters because he has never been to school. But he recognised them on
the chart in his hand and therefore could point out which letter he could see on the
chart at the chart six meters away. “Safi”, Zeno says smiling in Swahili.
“Good!” She is satisfied. “He sees very good already on his left eye.” In one
month when his sight is stable after the operation, he will receive glasses. “It
is essential for him to come back to get the glasses”, Zeno says. “Without them, the operation would be of no worth.”
Then, finally, comes the day when Ramadhani can leave the
hospital. After 5 hours by car he reaches his home in Muheza. Not one second he
has closed his eyes on the long way. He looked out of the window, hungry for
new impressions. At home he jumps out of the car and runs into the house where
his father Said is waiting in the one room where the whole family (parents and
4 kids) live and sleep in one bed. His dad is speechless. “He never ran around
at this speed. What a huge change!” Mother Jena follows her son a bit slower.
But she also smiles. “I am so happy. I have not expected him to see so well
after the operation.” Together the parents watch their son playing – and
testing his new ability. With his little brother Jumaa and neighbour girl
Mariam he collects some stones for the game Gololi. The aim is to throw stones
on a line of stones on the ground – and to hit them. “He tried to play that
earlier but he never succeeded to hit the stones”, his father Said says. Now it
takes the boy only some minutes to find out how it works. When he smashes the
line of stones right in the middle a shiny smile lightens up his face before he
bends down to pick up new small stones. But when his older brother Ramadhan
shows up and brings a ball Ramadhani forgets about the stones immediately.
Football! He throws the ball into the air, watch him fall down, and then starts
to hunt the ball with the other kids like mad. His mum shakes her head: “He was
always so idle and introverted. And now he is so active!”
After playing for a while Ramadhani has a wish: His older
brother shall show him the school where he will go to soon. Together they march
there through the hot sunlight and look at the now (it is Saturday) empty
houses. Ramadhani’s plan for the future is clear: “I want to go to school and learn
reading!” Now there is nothing anymore that keeps him from doing so.
In my upcoming posts, I'm sharing true success stories to show you CBM's incredible work and to inspire you to support this wonderful charity! I like to thank CBM SWISS for trusting me and sharing these beautiful life stories.
Eye sight enables Afiz to walk, run,
play, and smile.
The almost deserted but clean
compound greets whoever comes into Aisha’s home. Despite the somewhat needy
situation at Aisha’s home, there is so much joy in the house, and mostly in her
heart, as shown by the smile on her face. The persistent smile on her face as she
looks at Afiz running around the living room, while disorganizing everything
that he can see, is something to note with importance. She does not restrain
him from touching even what might get dirty by his soiled little hands. Afiz
runs around and returns to his mother to breast feed for a minute and then runs
away again. Aisha is happy. One can see that.
Aisha can now afford a genuine smile when it comes to the sight of her young son Afiz. The pain of having to answer uncountable questions weighed in heavy on her, yet she did not have the right answers to the questions from neighbours and strangers. Nobody understood her pain. Others asked her because of curiosity and not because they wanted to offer help.
Once blind, but now can see
“You
know, he is excited about being able to see. He had failed to crawl and walk
because he could not see anything.” Aisha, Afiz’s mother begins. “Even at 7
months, he could not sit. His neck could also not support the head to be
upright. His head just hung on his neck loosely. He could not even laugh or
smile but now he laughs, smiles, runs and can see where he is going”, Aisha says
with a smile.
“I was tired of the question, ‘omwana
yabaaki?’” (Loosely translated as: ‘What happened to the child?’” Mama Afiz
continues.
“Before
his surgery, it grieved me to know that my son might never see. I did not have
the money and his father had also failed to raise the money”, she says.
After
trying to save for the surgery bill, the money was not even close to a quarter
of what was needed and more family expenses kept on accumulating. Mama Afiz’s
hope became dim.
“Afiz
could not see me or his siblings. His brothers would give him things to play
with but he could not touch them because his world was dark. He did not know
what he was being given. He could not see it. He also had no appetite.”” Aisha
peaks
Life after surgery and restored sight
“Now,
he can receive what he is given, he can tell what he likes and what he does not
like. He likes colourful things. After his surgery, I noticed that he would
pull things all the time. I was mostly happy that he could see me and finally
know what I look like.” Aisha peaks
Aisha
has many dreams for little Afiz. She says she prays for him every day that his
future may turn out bright. She hopes that now that he can see, Afiz can go to
school when he is of the right age.
“I
would like him to become a doctor and even work at Mengo Eye Hospital to treat
eyes of people. Thank you for thinking about us from the start. You gave my son
free surgery. Now you have come to see how he is doing. I do not have anything
to give you, but I pray that you may live long”, Aisha expresses her gratitude.
Report by Charity Ainembabazi – Field
Communications Coordinator
In my upcoming posts, I'm sharing true success stories to show you CBM's incredible work and to inspire you to support this wonderful charity! I like to thank CBM SWISS for trusting me and sharing these beautiful life stories.
Shaloms story
Shalom is a five year girl who had bilateral
cataracts. She was identified through Mengo Eye Hospital. Shalom’s mother,
Fridah, was unable to pay for the surgery because she did not have a job and
was living with her mother (Shalom’s grandmother). Fridah could not afford
820,000 Ugandan Shilling, approximately 200 Euro for the surgery of her
daughter’s eyes. She had lost hope. Shalom had been dismissed from school because
her vision was very poor and could not read or write with ease. She could not
do what other children of her age could do. She mostly stayed home and sitting
on the veranda, playing with the doll, while avoiding the direct sunlight. She
could join her friends to play. She was laughed at because she could not see.
CBM received her case and paid for her surgery,
which surgery was successful. Six weeks after her surgery, received eyeglasses
to aid her vision even better. She had to stay at home for a full school term
so that her eyes could heal. After she had healed properly, she was able to go
back to school. She can now see better, she is able to read and write.
Life after surgery
The
beauty about cataract surgery is that the change is instant. Shalom can see
well the next day, less than 24 hours after surgery. As soon as Shalom’s eye
patches are removed, Shalom receives a more improved clarity of sight that she
has never experienced before.
Shalom touches her mother’s face as if to
confirm that she is the one and know the feeling of her mother’s face. Shalom
has to make weekly trips and fortnightly trips to Mengo Eye Hospital to be
reviewed by the Low Vision Therapist and Ophthalmologist. They have a look at
her condition and monitor her improvement until she is ready to receive eye
glasses.
Fridah, Shalom’s mother is committed to her
daughter’s hospital visits because she wants her daughter to receive full
healing be independent soon. From the stormy mornings, travelling in over
loaded city taxis, through the crowded traffic on the roads of Kampala and the
very hot weather, the determined mother always makes it to Mengo Eye Hospital
in time, with her little girl.
“I cannot waste this chance. It is not every
day that someone will give you a free chance to get surgery for your daughter
and give you all the extra medical care involved.” Fridah Says.
“Sometimes I sit there and think about how sad
she (Shalom) would still be at home, not going to school.” She adds.
Fridah gives a sigh of relief in between her
speech as though she does not want to sound overwhelmed.
Fridah looks forward to the day her daughter
will receive her eye glasses.
“She will go back to school.” Fridah muses with
a smile.
Receiving eye glasses
It is a warm morning. Shalom arrives at Mengo
Eye Hospital, walking all by herself, in front of her mother. She jumps and
runs about and her mother occasionally tells her to be quiet and still, to
which she obliges but soon starts running around and trying to stand on the
waiting chairs again.
This is not the reserved, timid, resigned and
sad Shalom of February 2019. She is now lively, happy and giggles a lot. She is even able to entertain herself when asked
to wait from the Dr. Lisbon, the Ophthalmologist’s examination room.
She is in the room
with her mother, occasionally whispering to her, while Dr. Lisbon is reading
her medical history papers before he takes the next steps. Shalom quickly
stands up and tries to touch and feel everything in the doctor’s office. She
tries to read the letters on the calendar that lies on a doctor’s desk.
“Tulawamu! Tonswaza.” (Losely translated as, “Settle
down! Don’t embarrass me.” Fridah rebukes Shalom in whispers as she gathers the
little girl to herself, lifting her on to her lap so that the examination can
begin. Shalom is beaming with joy.
Dr. Lisbon motions her to come to the slit lamp
so that her eyes can be examined. She quickly adheres and she is checked.
“There is a good improvement and she is due for
glasses. She should go for refraction today. Once she gets her glasses, she
must wear them at all times otherwise it will be a waste of time.” Dr. Lisbon the Ophthalmologist says.
Soon, Shalom is refracted. After that, she is
transferred to the glasses section to try out suitable frames for her
prescribed lens. The little blue frames are picked for her. Shalom moves to the
mirror and sees her new look. She chuckles hilariously and tries to touch the
reflection of her face in the mirror. She is just overjoyed. She dances and
squats and smiles again and again at her reflection, making childish poses and
smiling at her reflection in the mirror.
Fridah, her mother is seated quietly observing
her daughter’s moves. She begins to laugh and smile. She holds her mouth as if
in disbelief.
“I can’t
believe all this is for free. Oh my God, I can’t believe it. May God bless you
very much. I will always remember your goodness.” Fridah says.
When
it is time for Shalom to handover the frames and leave, she begins to bargain
that she does not want to take off the glasses. Her mood changes immediately
and she begins to sulk. She is almost crying but the glass section attendant
tells her that the frames are needed so that they can make them more beautiful for her.
Shalom reluctantly hands over the glasses and
asks whether she would be coming back to Mengo to pick them up the next day.
Her mother quickly intervenes by telling her that the doctor would call her to
pick up the glasses.
Three weeks later, Shalom receives her glasses
and tries them on. They are bifocal lenses to help her in her daily life, even
at school. She receives training on how to use them. The look on Shalom’s face
after knowing that she can keep the glasses forever with her is priceless. She
overwhelmed with joy. She begins to giggle as if aimlessly.
She once again goes to the mirror and looks at
herself. She is radiating light-heartedness and pure joy. She quickly wins over
the hearts of the staff in the glass section.
She enjoys her moment of attention. It is time to go back home, and
Shalom walks out of Mengo Eye Hospital with a new pair of spare eyes! She waves
at the hospital staff as she leaves. She can finally see with ease.
Shalom goes to school
It is a slightly chill morning but the warmth of the sun is quickly coming out. The bright rays open up the special day like a curtain. It is a special day because shalom is going back to school after missing two terms because she could not see well and teachers recommended that it was a waste of time to pay for school when she could not read or write at all.
Fridah, her mother locks the door behind her as
Shalom waits outside, looking smart in her little uniform, despite the rips in
her school sweater. She is still as warm as can be. She chuckles to her cousin
Joy, who studies in top class. Her mother packs a snack of bread for her and
drops it in her school bag. She clocks the door behind her and off the set off for
school.
Shalom's mother walks both Shalom and her cousin joy to
school. She wants to make sure that they reach safely. She must help them to
crosses the road safely because they are still too young to cross the road on
their own. She wants them to be safe. They walk while singing short
kindergarten rimes. They are happy as though they have no cares in this world.
The 20 minute walk to school soon comes to an end.
Fridah brings Shalom and joy each to the
entrance of their classroom. Soon, Shalom is seated comfortably in her class.
Her little classmates are looking at her as she settles in class.
Teacher Mercy, who is Shalom’s class teacher
begins to teach the class. It is the reading and writing class. She asks
questions in class and Shalom raises her hand and answers correctly. She is
told to write her answer on the chalkboard, which she also writes correctly.
Teacher Mercy asks the class to clap for
Shalom, which they do rhythmically as Shalom dances to the rhythm of the
clapping. Shalom is free and fearless before her classmates. She is a happy
middle class child.
Low Vision Therapist monitors Shalom’s progress
at school
Mr. Benard Okotel, a Low Vision Therapist at
Mengo Eye Hospital, a partner of CBM has been monitoring Shalom’s vision
improvement since surgery. He has come to school to assess how far she has
improved. Benard talks to Teacher Mercy before proceeding to greet the class of
little children and teach them about eye care and glasses that Shalom is
wearing.
“Shalom can now see well on the blackboard. I
was her teacher when she could not see. She was very shy and kept to herself.
She could not play in the bright light outside with her friends because the
light irritated her eyes. We had to send her back home.” Teacher Mercy says.
Shalom is reserved and selective. With the
people she knows well, she is very active but generally reserved in public.
“Shalom is a reserved girl but active in her on
way. When engaged she participates. She can write on the chalkboard and shares
her experiences with others. She plays with others. She is now improving to
write. She can see. Thank you for you did for her. It was a really big
challenge. She could not read and write but now she can read well. She will
continue to improve in her class work.” Says Teacher Mercy.
He comes with a writing board which he uses to
test at what distance between her eyes and the board that she can read with
better clarity. He also carries a long low vision books from the low vision
department at Mengo Eye Hospital with more contrasted lines to ease Shalom’s
writing experience at school. He makes recommendations to Teacher Mercy and the
Head teacher of the school as well.
Benard commends the
distance between Shalom’s seat and the chalkboard as suitable.
“The blackboard is good enough. The position in
class is also good. The girl is sitting in front. And the teachers seem to be
helping her.” Benard says.
With the help of spectacles, Shalom can see on
the chalkboard, she’s able to copy from the chalkboard and write.
“Shalom
should be given extra time because of her slow speed. She should also be given
a CBM writing stand to reduce her bending posture. The teachers need to often
to check on her work.
She needs special low vision books which have
more pronounced lines and not the normal class work books. With that we believe
that Shalom’s progress and studies will be much improved.” Says Benard.
Shalom is expected to continue with regular
review of her eyes and eye glasses from Mengo Eye Hospital.
“We really want to appreciate CBM for the good
support they are giving these children to improve their lives so that they are
able to study normally and integrate with another children so that what we call
inclusive education policy.” Benard appreciates.
After the reading and writing class, the class
takes a tea break where every child is free to take the tea provided by the
school or eat what has been packed from home. Shalom shares her snack with her
friends and her friends do the same with her.
Soon after break, it is play time. Play time is
characterised by singing, jumping, running and playing on the slides and
swings. The children happily sing rhymes as the dance and jump, laughing,
giggling and smiling.
It is evident that Shalom has made a few
friends and she carries herself with a sense of belonging to her peers.
After play time, the children return to class
and wait for their parents to pick them up at noon.
Back home from school
Shalom’s
mother is on time to pick her up. They walk back home while Shalom narrates to
her what she studied and the games she played with her friends from her class.
Fridah, Shalom’s mother listens with an interested attitude and she chips in
with an occasional “oooh” to express that she is happy for her daughter.
Soon, the two are back home. Shalom takes off her uniform and drinks some cold juice and piece of bread, while Fridah looks for the Jerrycans to fetch water, first before they can sit down to enjoy a relaxing afternoon.
Soon, Shalom is walking to the well on her own,
on the rough terrain. She can see where she is going and even runs ahead of her
mother. She is able to manoeuvre all the corners, bumps and potholes in the
narrow footpath that slopes to the well. Shalom could not do that on her own.
Her mother had to hold her hand and eventually carry her because it took a lot
of time for her mother to hold a Jerrycan and also Shalom at the same time.
She can fetch the water for herself and insists
on fetching water for her mother as well. She is bubbly and playful at the
well. She takes off her shoes and carries her three litre Jerrycan. Previously,
she was only able to carry one litre.
This
is the change that Shalom is experiencing after surgery. She is more involved
in home activities and happily participates.
When they return from the well, Shalom pours
her water into the bucket and begins to wash her school socks as her mother
watches on, directing her to focus on dirty parts of the socks. After washing,
it is time for Shalom and her mother to spend time as they wait for the rest of
the family to come home in the evening.
“I have no words to thank you enough. You have
given my daughter what I could never giver her without your help. I pray that
God bless you. I cannot stop saying thank you.” Fridah Says with a wide smile.
Shalom is a changed child thanks to the CBM
funded surgery. She will study with her glasses and the Social Worker will continue
to monitor Shalom so that she can observe all required reviews from time to
time at Mengo Eye Hospital.
Report by: Charity
Ainembabazi, CBM Field Communications Coordinator – Uganda
Einheit und
Nächstenliebe | Lily Amis & Thir13eens harmonische Zusammenarbeit
Im Bereich
der Indie-Musik wird ein neuer, gefühlvoller Titel mit dem Titel „My Vision“
nicht nur über die Lautsprecher, sondern auch in den Herzen der Zuhörer auf der
ganzen Welt Resonanz finden. Die Single ist eine durchdachte Kreation von Lily
Amis mit den himmlischen Vocals von Thir13een und markiert ihre neunte
Zusammenarbeit. „My Vision“ ist mehr als eine Melodie; Es handelt sich um einen
klaren Aufruf zur Wohltätigkeit und eine Erinnerung an die universelle
Spiritualität, der pünktlich zur Weihnachtszeit am 13. November 2023
veröffentlicht wird.
Lily Amis,
bekannt für ihre vielfältigen Talente als Autorin, Bloggerin und Künstlerin,
verbindet ihre Stimme für Flüchtlinge und Menschlichkeit mit ihren
künstlerischen Bemühungen. Ihr Engagement für soziale Anliegen zeigt sich in
ihrer Initiative des Lily4Humanity Creativity Contest und ihrer humanitären
Petition #HumanityB4Nationality. Zusammen mit dem britischen Produzenten und
Singer-Songwriter Thir13een hat Amis einen Teppich aus Musikgenres gewebt, der
von Soul/R&B bis hin zu Rap und Pop reicht und alle eine Botschaft der
Einheit und des sozialen Bewusstseins unterstreicht.
„My Vision“
ist die dritte Veröffentlichung nach „Tasteless Breakfast“ und „My Mission“ und
trägt eine kraftvolle Botschaft, die religiöse und kulturelle Grenzen
überschreitet. Das Lied betont die Dankbarkeit und das Gedenken an diejenigen,
die sich im Kampf befinden, und betont, dass die Anerkennung einer
einzigartigen göttlichen Einheit unabhängig vom Glauben einer Person eher vereinen
als spalten sollte.
Dieser
Titel dient einem doppelten Zweck als Sensibilisierungshymne für zwei
bedeutende Wohltätigkeitsorganisationen: The Christoffel Blind Mission
Switzerland (CBM) und Smile Train UK. Die Mission von CBM besteht darin, eine
integrative Welt zu fördern, in der Menschen mit Behinderungen ihre
Menschenrechte uneingeschränkt ausüben und ihr Potenzial entfalten können.
Smile Train UK war ebenfalls maßgeblich an der Bereitstellung von
Spaltbehandlungen für Kinder auf der ganzen Welt beteiligt. Beide
Organisationen haben durch ihr Engagement und ihren Dienst einen
unauslöschlichen Einfluss auf die Menschheit ausgeübt.
Die Musik
mit ihrem orientalischen Flair ergänzt die tiefgründige Hintergrundgeschichte
von Ernst Jakob Christoffel, dem Gründer von CBM, dessen Vermächtnis trotz
seiner Nöte die Texte des Liedes inspiriert. Amis zieht Parallelen zwischen
Christoffels Hartnäckigkeit und dem Potenzial jedes Einzelnen, einen sinnvollen
Beitrag zur Gesellschaft zu leisten, unabhängig von seinem Beruf oder seinen
Fähigkeiten. Sie plädiert für eine Welt, in der Faulheit keine Option ist und
in der jeder seine Talente einsetzt, um Freude und Positivität zu fördern.
Amis hat
für ihre Texte speziell die Themen Blindheit und Spaltchirurgie ausgewählt und symbolisiert
damit die oft metaphorische Blindheit der Gesellschaft gegenüber den
Privilegien, die sie besitzt, und das Bedürfnis nach Positivität in einer Welt
voller Unvorhersehbarkeiten. Sie drängt darauf, dass jeder die Möglichkeit
haben sollte, zu lächeln und Glück zu erfahren.
Ihr
Engagement für wohltätige Zwecke und ihre Zusammenarbeit mit Thir13een
unterstreichen eine künstlerische Reise, bei der es nicht nur um Musik geht,
sondern um eine Vision für eine bessere, integrativere Welt. Während sich „My
Vision“ auf die Weihnachtszeit vorbereitet, lädt es die Zuhörer ein, nicht nur
die Harmonien zu genießen, sondern sich auch auf den tieferen Aufruf des Liedes
zum Handeln einzulassen – ein Beweis für die Kraft der Musik als Kraft des
Guten.
Wer sich
von „My Vision“ inspirieren lässt, kann sein Engagement vertiefen, indem er die
Website von Lily Amis oder Instagram besucht, den Vision-Kalender 2024 kauft,
ihren Shop nach einzigartigen Merchandise-Artikeln durchstöbert und sich das
offizielle Songvideo ansieht – alles ein Schritt zur Unterstützung der Einheit
Botschaft der Hoffnung und Nächstenliebe.
