One life to declare
Late last year Brussels Airlines had the privilege of transporting a young Sierra Leonean girl from Freetown to Paris for urgent open heart surgery. The operation was a success for young Linda, but she is just one of some 150 children awaiting similar treatment in a country where it just isn’t available. Human rights journalist Amanda Fortier accompanied Linda – here she describes her trip
So, let me get this straight,” the customs official replied narrowing his eyes and flipping through the passports again. “You’re taking this young Sierra Leonean girl out of the country and you aren’t her foster mother or any other family member?”
“Uh-huh. Yes, that’s right,” I answered, suddenly realising how ridiculous my story sounded.
Who is this crazy woman, I know he was thinking. Either she’s incredibly honest or incredibly stupid. Linda’s big brown eyes peered up at me through long curly lashes. Confused, she tugged at my sleeve. She was growing impatient. “What’s happening, auntie?” she asked in her native krio shaking her head from side to side, the tiny tuff of braids at the crown of her head bobbing in sync. Just a child, Linda had no idea the practical difficulties involved in this situation. Grabbing for my suitcase handle she just wanted to get going already. Immigration was boring her.
“I’m all wet, auntie. I’m all wet,” she decidedly announced to get my attention. Great. I think to myself.
Open heart surgery
Granted we were unlikely travel companions. Linda, a seven-year old Sierra Leonean orphan who’s never set foot outside Freetown, let alone been through security and onto a plane. And myself, a 28-year old Dakar-based, Canadian journalist who was asked last minute to accompany Linda to Paris for open-heart surgery. The idea of taking part in this international chain of people, to help save Linda’s life, was certainly an extraordinary privilege – perhaps so much so I overlooked the suspicion it would potentially arouse. Trying to pass through three countries totting a young African on my arm, during the influx of clandestine immigrants coming out of West Africa no less, is sure to provoke a few curious glances…
Linda Paul Bandura is the third in a line of 150 children from Sierra Leone who will undergo open-heart surgery. The Freetown-based organisation, Pikin Bizness raises funds to bring each young African patient over one at a time, in conjunction with a private donor at The Financial Times and the Paris-based humanitarian group, Chaine de l’espoir. The cost of sending a single child from Sierra Leone to France, housing them with a care family for a period of three - six weeks and the operation costs is nearly five times the amount for a child already in the area. I felt truly honoured to help.
I admit it wasn’t the most relaxing of travel excursions. Trying to strap a seat-belt around a child who can’t sit still for more than a minute, let alone six hours can be trying. I couldn’t close my eyes for longer than 30 minutes at a time. My incessant need to monitor Linda- was she sleeping, was she covered, was she breathing- were all impeding any chances I would rest during my 26-hour voyage. Having never travelled with a child, let alone one with ventricular heart abnormalities, meant I wasn’t privy to the activities it inherently assumes. Bathroom breaks around every corner, multiple jaunts up and down the moving walkways and hour-long hunts for a vending machine that sells ice cream were certainly all new to me. And yet I genuinely enjoyed it.
Anything to declare?
Arriving at Charles de Gaulle on Friday morning, Linda and I breezed passed immigration with little more than a ‘bienvenue’ et ‘bonne visite’. We sauntered out, hand in hand, as if just coming back from a day at the beach. On the arrivals deck was Linda’s care-mother anxiously waiting. We exchanged greetings, swapped envelopes, and then, most importantly of all, I handed over the most precious item I’ve ever had to declare at customs.