LILLIAN NAKAYIMA discovers life in Ndera Hospital From a distance, he waved at me. He is now seated next to me. He is writing something on a piece of paper. “Have you come to take me home,” he asks impatiently. “Why,” I ask. “This place is awful,” he reveals.
LILLIAN NAKAYIMA discovers life in Ndera Hospital
From a distance, he waved at me. He is now seated next to me. He is writing something on a piece of paper.
"Have you come to take me home,” he asks impatiently.
"Why,” I ask.
"This place is awful,” he reveals.
Alex Gasirika, 23, is among the patients of Ndera Hospital for the mentally ill in Gasabo, Kigali.
"Whom are you writing to?” I ask. "I write to many people,” he replies. Gasirika speaks urgently like somebody being chased.
"I am just here to chat with you. He looks at and starts laughing.” "Why, ask him inquisitively. "You know what.”
"Could you dial this cell phone on my behalf?” he asks me. He explains that since my English is good, I can link him to American President George Bush since the two have long been friends.
Gasirika tells me they often talk on the phone and that Bush sometimes visits him. Gasirika insists that I dial the number. I try; the number is incorrect. He shakes his head in bewilderment. He is annoyed but then he laughs again and again.
Gasirika is one of the 213 mentally sick people in Ndera. The patients here have many stories to tell. Many people here will tell many stories. As I walk through the ward, people smile and then quickly lose their tempers.
They raise their voices; the language is vulgar. This is another world. I meet Claude Segatare. He counts the cars that enter the hospital and congratulate owners upon their success. I watch in silence.
Segatare blames hospital authorities for making him mad. He says he wants to go back home but "people here have refused”.
Ndera though busy is serene.
"Our patients shout on arrival, but we handle the matter,” says Jean Baptiste Iyamuremye, a doctor and director for nursing at the hospital.
"In society people take the mentally ill as outcasts,” explains Iyamuremye. When they arrive at the hospital, every effort is made to make them feel important and loved.
"The first thing we do is simply listen to them,” says the doctor. This is why they no longer shout and fight.
A nurse next to me chastises a boy who is loitering around. The 15 year old asks for forgiveness and sits down without making any noise.
Ndera Hospital has two categories of patients. Some patients are admitted permanently while others are treated after which are taken back home.
The boy has been told that he is to go home and is nervous that they may change their minds.
"Some of the patients are here because we want to keep a routine checkup on how they are reacting to treatment,” says Iyamuremye.
Others are admitted on court orders to check if their brains work properly basing on the crimes they committed in the past.
Most of the patients are young, raging from 15 to 35. Domestic violence, poverty and too many responsibilities are the leading cause of mental disorders, according to doctors at Ndera.
"Then we have the Genocide trauma,” adds Iyamuremye.
"The biggest problem that we face is receiving people with no identities,” says another doctor.
The doctor explains that police bring all mentally ill suspects to this place.
"Once they have been treated, we don’t where to take them.”
With branches in Butare and Kicukiro, Ndera is the only home for the mentally ill in Rwanda.
The hospital is funded by the Government and Catholic organisation Brothers of Charity. As I leave, Segatare is still at the gate.
"When I get home, I will make sure I don’t take drugs again,” says Segatare. Like others, he is hopeful that one day he will recover and be reunited with his wife.
Ends