They
are in great demand.
· To make the case that it is possible
to survive, they are used in radio, television, posters,
even smart
phone apps.
· Because they have antibodies to the
disease, there are stories that their blood
is traded on the black market and more reputable stories about the use
of plasma therapy. So their stories
and their bodies are valuable.
· They have been called on to work
where others dare not, most frequently with
children whose parents have died from EVD in OICCs. (Let’s hope these are short term jobs as the
crisis ends.)
Nina
and I have been interviewing people on the streets about what they know about
Ebola, what they do to protect themselves, whose messages do they trust, and so
on. But many of our interview subjects
have not come close enough to the system to have much to say about it. So earlier this week we were thinking that it
might be nice to talk to some survivors, to hear about their experiences in
treatment and to get their recommendations for how to improve the system.
A
colleague here shared the contact information of a survivor, and head of a
survivors group organizing in Freetown.
I called to see if we could set up a time to talk, and hear more about
the group they were organizing. He
wasn’t sure, and complained that he’d already been called on to talk on the
national television station. He said
he’d have to get something out of it. I
asked how much and he said $100. In all
my years of interviewing people in Sierra Leone, this is the first time I’ve
been asked to pay for an interview. I
certainly don’t blame the man for trying to get paid. When I told the story to one of my Sierra
Leonean friends who works in the NGO world, she said he’s probably being
contacted by NGOs who are scrambling to put together proposals to work with
survivors and get some of the Ebola money that is reaching the international
NGOs now and probably soon to trickle down to the local NGOs. To me, it was just a very clear symbol of the
commodification of survivors.
One
last story. A former colleague of mine
lost six members of his wife’s family to Ebola over a week and a half period in
October. The wife told us her awful story. One of her brothers was sick, but
survived. Over a beer, I asked my former
colleague how his brother-in-law is doing now, or whether they ever talk about
what happened in the Ebola Treatment Centre.
He said he doesn’t want to talk about it, people dying all around
him. So now my colleague says when they
come together they “play and laugh” and try to help him forget. It’s not easy.
Honestly,
this is why I believe in ethnography as a method. When I was in Sierra Leone during
the war and working with former child soldiers I had the chance to take the
time to build relationships with people over time. I never
asked anyone “what happened to you during the war?” We talked about football, or America, or whatever. If they felt like opening up, I was ready to
listen, but to ask someone directly to talk about their trauma always seemed
unethical or even inhuman to me.
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