The short night had not only robbed me of slumber but it also nearly made me late. I scrambled to get dressed and missed breakfast in my rush to meet Dr. Jo Lusi, who I found waiting patiently in his jeep with the passenger door open. As I hopped into the jeep, Jo put a tape into the car stereo and immediately started singing along with music. In between his accompanying vocals, Jo explained the reasons why this Congolese singer was a legend and exactly why her voice was so magical. I remember the reasons, but have forgotten her name…

Lulled into an absolute state of relaxation by the melodic commute, I was not prepared to chase Jo as he burst from the almost-stopped car. But lucky for me, he spotted some clubfoot patients before Jo could get too far from me. Having spent considerable time the night before discussing this devastating and correctable condition, Jo was excited to show me and I was thrilled to learn more. The kids absolutely love Jo and as he knelt down to show me the cast of one boy, I noticed several others waiting their turn for even a small amount of Jo’s attention. He made an example of each of the children, showing me the nuances of exactly the same cast multiple times. Jo’s passion was evident and it was less for the cause than for the kids whose lives he was transforming. After he had attended to each of the boys in the yard, Jo rushed me onto a quickly-paced jaunt through a maze of wards.

As we bounded through the dizzying and emotional tour, I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer number and magnitude of sad stories in the ward. Everywhere we turned there were crowded wards full of kids waiting for surgery, all living with different debilitating and very visible ailments. There were several babies with clubfoot, and a few with hydrocephalus, a condition where the skull fills up with water and expands to an incredibly large size. There were also several kids with cleft palate, a condition that those of you who were part of Summit for Smiles know is very close to my heart. Other wards had direct victims of violence, from burns to gunshot wounds, but the saddest and most haunting patients were the survivors of sexual violence. Their wounds were much more than physical.

Every square foot of space in the hospital had a body awaiting medical attention. When I commented on the numbers of patients to Jo, he smiled and said, “You know, this is the second floor, right?” As my face contorted while I considered the logic for building a basement ward, Jo started laughing. It was only then I realized that he was referring to the hospital that stood on these same grounds before the volcanic eruption destroyed everything in 2002. As tough as things were here now, I imagined how awful it must have been for the citizens of this region when HEAL Africa’s buildings had been consumed by the lava only 6 years earlier.

It was when we were nearly running to get to another part of the complex that Jo abruptly stopped and turned to look me right in the eye. “Seth, I love your idea and I think you can really help, but if you really want to make a difference, you need a Kumbe Moment.” Hmmm, I could hardly disagree. So far, Jo had been nothing but insightful. I wondered what a “Kumbe Moment” was and where I could get one. Just as I drew the breath to ask, the smiling Jo launched into his colourful explanation. “A Kumbe Moment is a discovery – it’s when you realize something you didn’t know before and you say, ‘ahhhh, Kumbe! – I get it now.’” This is where I expected Jo to reveal the great flaw in the OperationOF strategy – the Achilles heal that would keep our burgeoning social movement from greatness. I began to consider the volumes of things I didn’t know, scouring the seemingly infinite list for the one detail that would sink us. Jo’s laugh brought me out of my trance, “Seth, the Kumbe Moment you need is with African doctors.” Completely enthralled, I nodded and breathlessly paused for the second half of the insight. “If you want African doctors to really work on something, you have to show them why it is worth their passion and focus. You need to inspire a Kumbe Moment where they deeply understand and connect to the cause. Otherwise they will simply take your money, say all the right things, and dance your dance until you leave.”

Completely shocked from the unrestricted candor and incredible insight, I was not only speechless, but I also must have had quite the look on my face. Jo looked at me with concern, patted me on the shoulder in an it’s-gonna-be-alright kind of way and said, “Check out Healing Arts and let’s catch up at dinner.” And with that Dr. Jo Lusi quickly floated away. I took a moment to catch my breath and absorb what Jo said and then wandered over to Healing Arts.

To say HEAL Africa has a holistic approach to healing is a bit of an understatement. Instead of simply merging the medical and psychological aspects of treatment HEAL Africa also includes the economic and emotional well-being of patients and their families as part of their strategy. An important component of this effort is Healing Arts, the textile business that allows patients to produce and sell anything from wristbands to dresses. A room full of classic-looking Singer sewing machines had a woman at every terminal, each crafting some ware with the beautiful and colorful fabrics native to this land. Even in front of the building, there were women hand-sewing simple fabric bracelets as their children played in the black gravel of open space. Melody was ever-present with these women and from a distance they sang beautifully simple songs as they stitched fabric in the sun. Only when they noticed me approaching did they grow quiet and shy. Determined to capture some of their lovely songs, I set up a mic and walked away. Only after several minutes of my absence did they resume their harmony. Here is a little clip of what I recorded, though it hardly does the original version justice.

Shannon and Jackie (a doctor we met in Rwanda who joined us in the DRC) were measured for some custom fitted clothes and when they were done, we all headed over to the little hospital school room. As mentioned, HEAL Africa goes to great lengths to fully engage as many people as possible while they are in Goma. This includes offering a young patients an opportunity for some lessons taught by a psychologist-in-training named Charles. Shannon mentioned a bit about this visit in her blog, so I will only say that we have posted a short slideshow in the pics section of the blog that includes some of the songs they sang for us.

When we finally returned to the paradise of Maji Matilivu (the guest house), we found Lyn Lusi clipping roses in her beautiful garden. After a short tour through the garden, I found a quiet place to ponder. I could not stop thinking about all I had seen during the day. I thought about all those patients waiting for a chance to heal and how limited general surgical capacity affected each of them by delaying their turn for treatment. I thought about how adding specific capacity for fistula could potentially benefit all patients, but wondered how I could help an organization already doing over 200 fistula surgeries per year and doing them well. Even though we had come here to learn, I really wanted to help, but I just could not figure out how.

I had my "Kumbe Moment" at dinner. Lyn was describing some of the difficulties of serving such a broad set of constituents over such a large and tumultuous area. She discussed how certain conditions get left out because of limited skill set or funding. In this discussion, she mentioned cleft palates as one such condition. I immediately lit up and nearly screamed, “ahhh Kumbe!” After the initial scare I gave the table, I went on to explain my epiphany. If we could get funding for cleft treatment, it would allow HEAL Africa to expand their organization and eventually serve more people, including women with fistula. I suggested we work on an aggressive growth strategy and prepare a grant application for funding from The Smile Train, who I met with last May in New York. Of course, this spurred an excited conversation that lasted far too late and kept my heart beating far too vigorously.

I climbed into bed through a cloud of thoughts, considering precisely how treating children with cleft palates could indirectly benefit women with fistula and knowing this would be another long night.