Otuocha Eke Day!

On Saturday we continued our weekly explorations of the Anam communities. This week: Otuocha on Eke. Eke is market day and it occurs every four days. This week it coincided with a Saturday, which means that the market was even more populous.

Otuocha is the largest of the populated areas and, per local reports, it used to be somewhat of an urban oasis for people to visit. However, in 1999, there was a conflict over land. The Umuleri and the Aguleri are the primary groups that settled there. At some point long ago, the Umoba-Anam purchased land from both groups giving them rights to settle and live in the more urban area. When the conflict grew and crisis occurred in 1999, the Umoba-Anam were caught in the middle and basically trapped in their ghetto and this forced development to become more dense in their section of the city.

The majority of the development in Otuocha is in the low land abutting the river. There are pros and cons to this. The main advantage is the river access that provides trade routes for farmers and peddlers. The main disadvantage is that this is also along the flood plane.

We arrived on a boat from Ebenebe. On the ride, we briefly noted that this was exactly how people in the US were celebrating the fourth of July too: on boats, in hot sun, with an armed guard wearing a shirt with trout and american flags on it. So patriotic we are!

As the boat pulled up to the shore of the ferry landing, we could see the layers of the market. Women selling vegetables under umbrellas along the earthen slope between the river and the high ground. Paths between waste that creates a fabric over the sandy shore. Bustling streets full of pedestrians and salesmen. Shops

Women sold most of the vegetables from the farms: okro, tomatoes, bitter leaf, etc. Men were higher up in more permanent stands selling yams and goods. There is a section of stalls for juju, where you can buy skulls and feathers for talismen. There is a whole rice processing area where the local rice is dried on mats in the street where cars drive over it occasionally. There is an area for fabrics with seamstresses and tailors, where I hope to have some clothes made on our next visit! It was quite a busy hub of activity.

Oh, and there were men selling herbal medicines out of their cars! I spoke with ‘Dr.’ Dixon for a moment about his miracle powder. He claimed it could clear up any infection. When pressed, he wasn’t really sure what an infection was, but he was quite charismatic as a salesperson. He also didn’t know what exactly the creator’s degree stood for; these credentials supposedly made him a doctor. What does FNAHM stand for? Who knows?! I suggested it was something about herbal medicine. Anyhow, based on the label and the posters this powder is mostly good for reproductive issues, ranging from getting HIV from a dog to having children that are half-goat, or things like “veneral infections, weakness of male genital, virginal discharge, and pile.” We bought one for N100 (~$0.60). The instructions are to take one packet in lime orange or Sprite every three days until symptoms clear up. Yikes!

So while half of our group stayed to study the market, three of us went to explore the layout of housing. I was more interested in seeing how the conditions of this more urban setting helped/hindered health. Did people have more access to clean water or sewage treatment? Was there better ventilation? How available was health care?

Luckily for me, one of the new fellows that we met in the city, Fidelis, was really interested in collaborating on health care. He said he had wanted to be a doctor, but most recently he had been studying biochemistry in Ghana. Excited to have someone who was eager to follow a similar line of thinking, I gushed about all the programs we have been discussing. After the brief orientation, he took me to a chemist shop nearby.

Leaving the architects to measure footprints and rooms of houses, we walked a couple blocks to a chemist shop where I interviewed Juliette. She runs one of the twenty chemist shops in Otuocha in addition to catching babies. Juliette has no formal training, which is the standard for chemists. She apprenticed with a doctor and now she is teaching nine young women how to do what she does. As far as I can tell, chemists form the back bone of health care in this area. Their services are accessible, relatively affordable, and fairly comprehensive. She sells everything from nutrients to antibiotics to phenobartitol. While we were there a couple of people came in, so I also got to see her in action. It was an extremely informative visit, which perhaps I will write about at some point in the future. After the interview, I feel like I have more of a pulse of general health needs in the area now.

After we left her shop, we headed to the health centre. It is a four room health clinic, which was unfortunately closed on Saturday. I tried to peer into the rooms, but the bars and mirrored windows obscured most of my vision. I did get to see some of the posters aimed at the health of children and women mostly. They were posters for condom use, immunizations for children, and guinea worm (which only occurs in areas that lack clean water sources). We tried to find a nurse or two, but they were all out of town, so I will have to return on a weekday to visit the clinic.

By this point, the afternoon storm was visible, so we headed back towards the central meeting location, stopping along the way to greet a few of the traditional doctors and women who specialize in herbal medicine. We reconvened as a group at the catholic church to head back to the boat. I was excited to hear about the exploits and adventures of the other teams, and grateful for my relatively raw and singular experience of the health of Otuocha. I think that I half expected my experience in Nigeria to be more like this town than the rural think-tank where we are and so it was extremely satisfying to touch the feeling that Otuocha inspired. I really enjoyed the bustle of the city mixed with the warmth and welcome of everyone we met.