The first time I heard of 'Mathari' Psychiatric Hospital - Part 2

Incase you missed part 1... here it is:

https://charitymuturi.wixsite.com/read/post/the-first-time-i-heard-the-word-mathari

Months later, Auntie Maryanne came back home from Mathari Hospital. She had somehow changed but was still quiet. Still a shell, but somehow a better shell. She stayed in her room until 4pm when VOK started with the rainbow of colours & a loud siren 'Tiiiiiiiiiìii'! Sometimes she watched. Sometimes she stared. She liked Sing & Shine and Joy Bringers. She talked to herself and continued taking her medicine. My mum encouraged her to go outside to enjoy the sun and take a walk every day. She joined her when at home and they would talk for a long time. The thrashing from a few months back was still aching. So when Auntie Maryanne said jump, we asked how high... on jump 5. One day, after visiting our uncle we were seated in the car waiting for someone on the roadside at Uplands, Limuru. Then a donkey stretched something long and black from its underbelly. Whatever it was, it made Auntie Maryanne laugh from deep in her her belly... loudly. She laughed and laughed. Laughed and laughed. We all froze in shock. Then we all started laughing because we did not want her to stop. To laugh for as long as possible.

Since that day she spent less and less time in her room. She started talking more. Going out more. Enjoying the sun more. Planting green vitunguus and spinach in the kitchen garden. Going to the shop and to the market. Cooking and baking. Laughing with us as she watched us play. She joined us as we ate. Then my mum went with her to the Teachers Service Commission of that time, where she had taken a letter when she was admitted. They went with a new letter from the hospital saying she was now well. After a few months we moved to Ruaka and Auntie Maryanne was posted to Muchatha Primary School. My parents helped her find, furnish a house and start life again. They visited her often and we joined them one day. We found her happy and smiling. She had many books to mark in her house. She served us tea and bread. Gave us stories about her new school. She was no longer quiet or shy. She continued to laugh, teach and take her medicine. That is my last memory of Auntie Maryanne.

This experience shaped my view of depression and mental illness growing up. That it is human and it is treatable. That what is needed is someone who loves you. Treats you with respect. Is patient, non-judgemental and refuses to give up on you. Then you need to go to Mathari, come back out and see a donkey. 30 years later, I walked past her old house and remembered it, though she had left many years earlier. Auntie Maryanne incase this reaches you. You inspired my understanding of mental illness. Your story of courage is now my story of courage. I pray that we get to meet again someday. I will buy a whole cake each time we meet. To pay for my childishness of devouring your cake mercilessly. Then I will tell you how I am also now a bonafide member of Mathari Hospital. I hope we can compare experiences. I will tell you how in my mental health support group we call Mathari our State House. 

Then maybe I will find the strength to tell you how I met Uncle Joseph in Mombasa 12 years ago. Still constantly talking and walking as he used to. How he introduced me to his chubby happy light-skinned wife. How I felt my blood boil and my heart beat like it would leave my chest. Especially when he said she is called Maryanne like you. I almost slapped him. I had no idea I was still so so angry for what he had put you through. You know today people can tweet how #ABrokenEngagement #IsBetterThanABrokenMarriage. But in 1989 when a man looked at you thrice he married you, your village, your chief, your white pams and your curly kit. Then after the wedding your salary went to his account. Men did not disappear on their wedding day.

 All these years I have been angry at Uncle Joseph. I am very forgetful. Yet never seem to forget people who annoy me. Imagine it is only yesterday, just yesterday that we finally talked about it with my parents. They told me that he did not disappear on the wedding day. That it was your father who asked for very high dowry that even the best fundraising could not afford. When the church decided to continue with the wedding anyway, your father sent a message that he would show up with a panga and cut everyone up to pieces. So the Wednesday evening before the wedding, the church cancelled it. Since very few people had phones then, they still showed up to church on Saturday and were directed to our home. I have been wondering whether you ever got married again or if you decided to elope. Or if you later found yourself alone by choice or circumstance. 

Either way, I have been hoping that life has since been kinder to you. That every single thing that gives you joy has continued to follow you… specially delivered by a convoy of donkeys. I can assure you that you are not forgotten. You are loved. You are celebrated. Now I finally know that after a few years of struggling with mental relapses, you were dismissed from work on medical grounds and went back home. So now, I have many more questions & I am even more determined to find you.

Majority of mental health conditions are triggered by trauma related to financial and relational issues. There is need for families and communities to improve social resilience. To proactively form informal mediation systems to address trauma, relational and financial crises. In so doing reduce the burden of mental illness. As recommended by the National Task Force on Mental Health, it is also important to include mental health in the primary school curriculum. To teach children to understand, prevent and support persons with mental illness. It was easier to shape my understanding as a child than now as an adult. While we have progressed in many ways since 1989, religious and traditional beliefs continue to affect the access of mental health services in Kenya. As recommended by the WHO Mental Health Action Plan, we need gatekeepers including religious and community leaders to learn how to identify, intervene and where necessary refer persons with mental health conditions.

So...what stands out for you in this story?