This is Judith, her little baby, Anna, was the one who died back in March. When I went to visit she told me she was worried that she was never going to see me again after the burial. We had a really nice time just sitting and talking. (Usually the women insist on rushing off to cook when I come to visit and we never get to actually talk.) She is still convinced that witchcraft killed her baby so keep praying for her faith in God.
And Ester and her mother. Theirs is the baby that died the first week of June. It was the hardest burial I'd ever been to. Ester is mentally ill but remembered me and was actually happy to see me this last time. (The previous two times I'd seen her, when she was in labor and when we were bringing her baby's body back she was combative and angry at me- understandably.) Her mother cried when I told her I was leaving Soroti and said I was the only person who had ever loved them. I know that with the stigma of mental illness they are often criticized by the community and discriminated against. Even the other midwife at the clinic wouldn't help them because of Ester's status They insisted on giving me a chicken and a bag of cassava because I couldn't stay to let them cook for me. I know how they are barely scraping by to feed themselves but they would not let me say No to their gifts. Please pray they would feel loved by God.
(Because literally everything I own at this point fits in one of two bags and I have even handed the keys over to the landlord so I don't have a place to give this chicken water, I needed to give it away again quickly. Unfortunately, it overheated in the back of my truck on a typical Soroti sunny day but the town's resident homeless guy didn't care and happily took both gifts.)