Global Poverty Monitor

The final woman was very old, and painfully thin. She was lying on a matters on the floor, in a very uncomfortable-looking position, with sheets strewn messily over her. At first I thought she was asleep, but when I looked at her face I found that her eyes were open and she had a look of terror mixed with extreme pain on her face. The look on that woman’s face is the most vivid image that I will take home with me from Africa.

I wanted to leave and not give her the bracelet, since its not exactly something that is going to make her better or make her life any more comfortable, but I didn’t leave, for two reasons. The first is that the chance that a new bracelet on her skeleton of a wrist could bring her a moments happiness or pride is enough to justify doing it. The second is that if my only reason for not doing it was my own fear, then I don’t deserve to be on this study tour. So I knelt on the floor in front of her, and watched as her eyed registered even more fear as she looked at me. I showed her the bracelet, and then touched what was left of her wrist to show her where the bracelet was to go. I motioned for her to left up her arm slightly off the mattress, so I could put the bracelet on, and I know that she tried to, but she didn’t have the energy or the ability to do it. Everyone had been watching what was going on, and the nurse came up behind me at this stage and lifted up the woman’s arm while I fastened the bracelet. I touched her arm again, and she just looked at me with almost the same expression, but I could see that a little bit of the fear had gone.