Simona Erdt-Obewhere sits in a classroom, green blackboard, wooden tables, large windows in front of which palm trees bend. For three months she swapped her job at the Munich eye clinic with the teaching hospital in Moshi, Tanzania. At the end of June she called from Africa via video call to tell us what brought her to this clinic at the foot of Kilimanjaro. And why this certainly wasn’t her last stay there.
The 33-year-old is an orthoptist. This is a profession that is not generally known in Germany either. Orthoptics is a branch of ophthalmology. The specialists support ophthalmologists in diagnosing visual disorders such as strabismus or ametropia and initiating the correct treatment. The earlier such malfunctions are diagnosed, the greater the chances of recovery. But while in this country routine examinations by the pediatrician usually also cover the eyesight, many children in Africa go blind because nobody recognizes their problems in time. Simona Erdt-Obewhere wants to change that with her mission to Africa.
Cell phone in hand, she guides us through the clinic. At her side was her Munich colleague Rebecca Decker, who was sent to Tanzania with her by the Christoffel Mission for the Blind and paid for this teaching position. The two women walk past a crowded waiting room, men, women, children wait patiently until they are called. A treatment room looks similar to its counterpart in Munich: patient chair, various lenses and examination devices. A colleague greets us in a friendly manner: “Hi, Simona!”. After three months, the handling is familiar.
Simona Erdt-Obewhere explains to a Tanzanian colleague what is important in diagnostics.
(Photo: Thomas Einberger)
The Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center in Moshi is a modern clinic, 630 beds, almost all specialties. It had the country’s first eye department that could also operate on children – only one of three in all of Tanzania. “But with a catchment area of around eight million people, it’s clear that doctors only see a fraction of the people with health problems,” says Simona Erdt-Obewhere. According to estimates, only a fifth of all eye patients have received help so far. “Many children go blind, and they could be helped if their disease were detected early.” There is a lack of medicines, diagnostics, but above all of skilled workers. It wasn’t always easy to experience that, says the Munich native.
Done: The little patient can see well again thanks to the successful treatment.
(Photo: Thomas Einberger)
“No one at home is aware of how difficult it is for people here to get medical treatment at all,” says Erdt-Obewhere. Some patients are on the road for two days before they come to the clinic. There is hardly any public transport in the country, taking a car has to be paid for. Anyone who loses a day’s work does not get paid for it. With an income of four euros a day, aids such as eye patches, which “only” cost one euro, are worth a fortune. “That’s why many try the local priest or the village healer first before they see a doctor.”
It makes her sad to see blind children who, thanks to early detection and treatment, have not lost their eyesight in Germany. On the other hand, says the Munich native, it is also a satisfying feeling to be able to help. And that’s why she wants to go back to Africa.
The Munich native taught the Tanzanian colleagues the special features of the examination methods.
(Photo: Thomas Einberger)
“Colleagues are very interested in our work here,” says the Munich native. “You can’t learn the complicated diagnostics from a book alone.” And so the two orthoptists from Germany held four hours of theory lessons for doctors and nurses every day and spent the rest of the day treating patients together with their Tanzanian colleagues. “I am delighted that three colleagues now want to do the specialist training to become orthoptists in The Gambia.” There is the only such vocational school. And unlike in Germany, where hardly any doctor wants to become a country doctor, many trained doctors and specialists in Africa would go back to their villages to help.
A visit to a boarding school for visually impaired children was particularly close to the two women. Ophthalmologists from the clinic go there once a year to examine the children. Six hours driving time. “There are children who are never picked up by their parents during the holidays,” says Erdt-Obewhere. Albino children in particular, who were born with white skin due to a genetic change, would have a hard time. The parents would often be ashamed of them. “But the teachers at the school do a great job and the children support each other.” Those who can still see a little would help the blind in everyday life. “It was so nice to watch this community.” Tears flowed when they said goodbye.
In the meantime, the two Munich residents have stepped in front of the clinic gate with their mobile phones. “Back there,” they say, pointing into the distance, “you would now see Mount Kilimanjaro.” But the magical mountain has been shrouded in fog for weeks. It’s rainy season. At first, they say, they thought: “Since we’re here, we really have to get up there.” But such a trip lasting several days is expensive, and they wouldn’t have wanted to have their luggage hauled up by the locals like tourists do. So they stayed down.
Whether on the way to work or to do the weekly shopping at the market: the most common means of transport for Simona Erdt-Obewhere was the tuk-tuk.
(Photo: Thomas Einberger)
A bit of sightseeing was still possible. They have been to the sea, taken day trips to the mountains and a safari where they saw lions, elephants, zebras. They rode tuk-tuk taxis into town to stock up on kilos of fresh fruit and vegetables at local markets. And from time to time they went to a bar with colleagues in the evening. Saying goodbye to Africa is difficult, they both sigh as they go back to the clinic. It’s her last day in Moshi.
Two weeks later, Simona Erdt-Obewhere is back in the eye clinic in downtown Munich. White coat, gold-rimmed glasses, dark hair pinned up. She teaches at the private vocational school for orthoptics, where she herself was once trained. The school had released her for the Africa mission. There are only 14 such schools in Germany, they are attached to university clinics – and Bavaria is the only federal state that does not pay for training, says Erdt-Obewhere. “So it takes a lot of enthusiasm to learn this job.”
Today her students have practice day, they have to examine patients. The waiting rooms in the hallway are just as crowded in Munich as in Moshi. With the difference that here every patient who wants to can go to the hospital and get free examination and treatment. Such a diagnosis takes well over an hour. Simona Erdt-Obewhere is always in the background, calm, but determined to step in when there are ambiguities, checks the protocols, encourages the patient: “You did well. We’re now looking at how we can help you.” A detailed anamnesis interview is followed by eye tests with various instruments, checking the head position and the mobility of the eye muscles. The result depends on whether and how the patient can be operated on, or what other options there are.
In the breast pocket of the orthoptist there are magnifying glasses, eye covers and small pointers, which she holds in front of a patient’s nose so that he can fix his eyes on them. A giraffe from Tanzania is stuck on one of these sticks. “The children particularly like them,” says Simona Erdt-Obewhere and laughs.
The mission of the two Munich women was supported by the Christoffel-Blindenmission (CBM). It is one of the leading international organizations for inclusive development cooperation. Together with local partners, she has been supporting people with disabilities in the poorest countries in the world – for more than 115 years. Last year, CBM funded 391 projects in 44 countries. The eye clinic in Moshi in Tanzania was built with donations.