In early October we were called to help a relative of a woman in Thandayankottai. The next morning we began the long trek to his village. After three hours of walking, in a dusty plain filled with ravines, we came to a group of thin, tired young men hauling something in a blanket. They opened up the edges and the smell hit me. There, inside, was a man around 55 years, his legs burnt into painful contortions, with smooth charcoal black skin stretched over bone and tendons- all muscle and fat burnt away and replaced by gangrene. All we could understand was that he had fallen into the fire 2 days ago and he had not been to a hospital-but the story kept changing.

We raced to CHAD hospital (Christrian Medical College’s Community Health and Development Centre) where they run a program to prioritise Jawadhi hills tribal people and who we work with regularly in health cases. After a series of questions, the true story emerged - the burn had happened twenty days ago and that the man with him was his son, not his neighbor, and the lady his wife, not his niece. Their belief was that an orphan, or someone without family, will be treated better by doctors. Sadly, this works against them when alone- for CHAD will often not treat someone without a relative there to support them and buy medicines and food. Initially they had said they had not sought help- that he had had a seizure and fallen into the fire, and had stayed up in the forest for 20 days. Then, when CHAD suggested they go to the government hospital, it emerged that they had done this, but that the hospital had not given him any treatment, and they had left.

With support from CHAD, Chinnasamy was eventually admitted into CMC, and both his legs amputated. For two months he was kept in CHAD hospital and the doctors cleaned and did his dressings every day. We visited nearly every day, and watched him turn into a smiling, stronger person, who planned to chop bamboo to send his son through college when he got home. We learnt his story- how his son is the first person to attend college from his area; how he wants him to be a teacher; how they struggle to raise 15,000rs/year for fees, when they could get a scholarship if they could just get the community certificate for him proving he is a tribal person- which they have been trying to get for over ten years. We met with the District Forest Officer and arranged for his son to meet the official, who would make arrangements for the certificates to be given out to everyone in the village, using his story as a motivating factor with the relevant officials.

CHAD eventually ran out of beds, and asked them to move to the leprosy ward. They refused. The doctors were frustrated at the apparent prejudice and felt that they had no right to be judgmental, considering they had given him free treatment and he was so in need of further treatment if his stumps were to heal well enough to fit a plastic leg for him to walk upright. When we visited that night and spoke to the family, it eventually emerged that they would have gone, but if they stayed in that ward they would be socially ostracized from their village- even their children would disown them for having been there- but they were too scared to tell the doctors. Their choice was a lifetime of social isolation, or risking the limb not healing and losing the opportunity to walk with a plastic leg. When the doctors came to understand this, they let them stay on the floor, and he stayed until his stumps were healed. In two months, they’ll give him a leg.

All Chinnasamy needed was someone to speak up for him- someone not silenced by caste, lack of confidence or confusion. If someone they trusted was there in his village to help him-someone like him, it would not have been twenty days he went with medical care. He would not have developed gangrene. He may not have even lost his legs. Someone would be able to educate about leprosy and work towards ending the stigma from within the village. This is why we need health volunteers. 


-The Seb's Projects Team, November 2011