Sister Magna

On Sunday, I had the fortune of being taken to visit the Upendo Leprosy Rehabilitation Centre, in Maji ya Chai. The facility happens to be about a 5 minute walk from the CCF center in Maji ya Chai, supervised under the stern eye of a woman named Sister Magna.

Sister Magna is originally from Germany. She speaks in thick and precise syllables that rise and fall in rhythm with her expressive eyebrows. She takes an appropriate amount of pride in her appearance, occasionally stopping to swiftly straighten her spotless headpiece and brush off her dress. She carries a thick ring of keys, which at times, she might fumble through to find the one key that would open the kitchen. The prayer room. The crafts room. The bio-gas restrooms. The solar electricity control room…

As she guided us through the center she told us the history of the center, and how she had been called to come to serve here. Before she arrived, the lepers had been given a very simple building to stay in. One large roof over a space big enough to sleep about 30 people. But it was more than they had ever been given in their lives. They had been exiled from their communities, cast to the streets to beg, forgotten / ignored / ostracized. Under the roof given to them by a local philanthropist, they became members of a dwindling group of lepers who live segregated from the rest of society. But it became their home. When chicken coops were constructed next to them to provide a source of food and income, rats began to overrun the coops and their home – coming in at night to feed on the leper’s sensory deprived fingers and toes. This is the state Sister Magna found the center in, so she prayed.

Under her direction, a convent was built next to the leprosarium – adorned with modern tile, warm walls, and clean bathrooms. Visitors would come to visit the convent and the lepers, and would scold Sister Magna for living so comfortably while the lepers next door lived so poorly. So she went looking for funding, and after a few years raised enough to slowly transform the center into a beautiful home complete with prayer room, crafts business, bio-gas restrooms, and solar electricity. The lepers make beautiful crafts, to sell to the hotels of Arusha during the holidays. They enjoy television and nice meals. They sit in the sunshine and cheerfully greet visitors.

We were instructed before going into the center not to show and hesitation or fear in shaking their hands. We were told that these lepers have been treated, and that shaking their hands will give them much needed self-assurance; rare personal affirmation. As I looked into the one good eye of the first leper that I met, I forced myself to abandon all of the ignorant thoughts that flashed through my head. I’ll be honest. I was still a little afraid – maybe because I had been told not to be. Should I be afraid? If Sister Magna is telling me not to be afraid, then there must be something I should be afraid of! Why were others afraid?

I knew nothing about lepers. I think I heard about them a couple of times in Sunday School as a child. Didn’t Jesus heal them? (A quick Google search has since refreshed my memory – make sure you take the quiz at the end) I didn’t know what the effects of leprosy were…or how it was spread. (A quick Wikipedia search has since informed me) But I pushed all of the internal shouting to the back of my head, stuck out a hand and offered a hushed “Shikamoo”.

All the while, Sister Magna led us at a brisk pace, offering a few words to each patient – sticking closely to the impromptu tour that she had set out to take us on. All the time, I couldn’t help but imagine if I could have the strength to live alone – learning how to dress wounds, how to bathe lepers, and how to transform a dirty chicken coop into a spotless home for a few outcasts of Tanzania society. Sister Magna can. Through a fine regiment of faith, study and prayer, Sister Magna has given up everything that the world has to offer – and given back to those that others gave up on.

After a few months of chasing down faceless names on a blurry path of corruption, and trying to discover the alternative motives behind so many people that appear to want to help, Sister Magna seemed as clean as her dress suggested. She has no tolerance for business that isn’t straight. She runs the center with an orderliness that reinforces the reputation that germans have for being efficient. And from my understanding, she requires no personal compensation in return. I don’t think I could do what she does. But I look forward to taking other people to visit her, for another impromptu tour. And hopefully their heart will beat a little faster the first time they reach out to greet the lepers. And maybe they’ll walk away as hopeful as I did.