Good news in the Transkei, people!! Last week, Malamulele Onward came to Zithulele. Or at least, to Madwaleni, hosted by the (increasingly influential, watch out for us) Zithulele-Madwaleni Rehab Coalition.
Malamu-what?
An NGO run by physios and OT’s who are specialists in working with kids with cerebral palsy (CP), which began its work in Malamulele, Limpopo – hence the name. The concept involves taking a team of volunteer therapists, all NDT-trained (NDT = neurodevelopmental therapy), to a rural area, to provide intensive therapy for local kids with CP for a week. The idea is to work together with existing services, like ours, so that the families can be followed up and supported by local therapists (who are generally not exactly experts – and CP is hard). The team continues to visit every 6 months or so follow up for the next 2 years.
It looks a lot like a circus actually, when it happens. We took over the church at Madwaleni hospital, and in the hall set up 8 therapy areas, a play and practice area, a workshop area and a waiting area. The therapists arrived in a convoy, laden with colourful blocks, wedges, standing frames, chairs, bikes, tinsel, jelly, cheap Chinese toys that flash lights and play inappropriate songs, plastic farm animals, balls, cars, power tools, tins of glue and paint and rolls of foam rubber, and every other imaginable piece of paraphernalia needed to change the lives of 32 kids and their moms in a week. 
Everything is either a donation or bought with funds raised by Gillian Saloojee, the (powerhouse) ringleader, and almost everything either goes home with the kids or is given to the local therapy services. Total Christmas.
From Monday to Friday, each kid gets at least an hour of therapy (physio, OT and speech) per day, and by the end of the week, their moms/grannies have been trained in a basic therapy program for home, as well as how to use all their new furniture. They even get a laminated set of photos as a reminder.
There’s no magic for kids with CP, but there were some serious miracles in this week. A child who never spoke before started talking. Some who have never done more than lie on a bed in the back of a hut, started sitting up and actually seeing the world. Kids learnt that they could feed themselves, and a few took their first steps. Moms who never believed their kids would ever be able to do more than cry and be carried saw them as “normal” kids for the first time.
We’re all too used to seeing our patients get “second best”, but in this week we experienced what it was like to work with a dynamic team of specialists, who made sure 32 of our kids got the ultimate treatment. It was a huge privilege and an amazing learning experience, and we are more than grateful to Gillian and her team for making it happen. Here’s to the next one!
