But over the last few days I've been getting repeated calls from an unknown number. If I answered, the person would begin to talk, but not understand me in Lubwisi or English, and would not talk back. I sent text messages asking who it was, but no reply. I figured it was a wrong number. Finally this morning on rounds the voice called again. And I realized it was some patients's mother, so I gave the phone to Olupah, who finally communicated and got the story that Kaba had died. I am touched that her mom worked so hard (even when I could not understand her!) to tell me, but I think it probably is because no one else invested in this girl and made her feel her own care was worthwhile and important, so she wanted to share the news with someone who would also grieve. I wish I could find her now.
Kaba only lived to be about 14. And the last few years most people would have been appalled at the life she did live, confined to bed, in a dark room of a mud hut. But I see beneath the failing body and bleak surroundings there was a precious little girl who had joy, affection for and from her mom, and an undemanding acceptance of life. I pray that she is running, dancing, and looking at unbelievable splendors through resurrection eyes right now.