The Compound

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I think I mentioned before that the compound is approximately 115 acres that are more or less secure. On it are the hospital, with a tuberculosis sanitarium, a grade school, a college to train preachers, residences for visitors and permanent physicians, and a mosquito net factory. Bob and Annette Whitaker are no-nonsense, get-things-done kind of people. To a large extent thatís why all that stuff is there and works so well. Here are some pictures.

This is the road from the residence, which is down the side road to the right, to the hospital which is even with the end of the road in the distance. Pictured is a lady with machete, carrying on her head the firewood she has cut. The school is about halfway down the road on the right.

 

This is the school.

A classroom.

 

Workers make the desks and chairs for the school there on the compound.

 

This is the school in the village for other kids. Not nearly as nice or nearly as high standards.

 

Here is a man taking his children to school. Six people on a motor cycle. ďMachineĒ is the word for motor cycle. ďIronĒ is the word for bicycle.

 

A lady frying plantains just outside the hospital gate. I would buy them for forty Nirea (about a quarter) on the way in each morning.

 

Pictures of the school to train preachers.

 

Some of the students come to sing for us at the residence one night.

 

It was so beautiful. They started way before they got there. You heard beautiful music coming toward the house in the dark.

 

Mosquito net factory. They try to hire widows.

 

The net are treated with insecticide that last six months. Then are retreated.

 

They sell them for about their cost of five dollars. They last about ten years.

 

Itís the cheapest way to prevent malaria and save lots of lives.

 

One night I was walking back to the residence very late, maybe 2:00 am. I ran into this crew. I had heard about the violence. I knew I was dead. Maybe Laura could hold my hand as I bled to death. I would never see Eric or Elizabeth again or eat another Dove Bar. As it turned out these were the good guys. The local police are corrupt and canít be trusted, so the compound hires its own security. This is it. Comforting, isnít it?

Iíve already shown you the residence.

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