Adama Diarra, medical student

Son of his father's third wife, Adama joined the community of children already belonging to this family of the village blacksmith.  His oldest half-brother is about the same age as his mother!  The non-biological mothers of this family are referred to as "maratres" and children having the same father are all considered brothers and sisters.  Father is about 70 years old and his wives' ages range from about his age to that of Adama's mother who is about  45 years old.  Exact records are not kept; thus, ages and birthdays are approximate.  Adama has two sisters and one brother, all younger than he.

Blacksmiths are an essential part of rural village life.  In fact, they are considered a cast, tend to live apart from the rest of the village and often intermarry with members of families of other blacksmiths.
In Kassa, this isolated Dogon village, the blacksmith makes and maintains the tools needed for planting and harvesting crops-millet and a kind of corn referred to as wheat, fabricating metal items for the village and making shotguns and pistols from scratch.  The village shop, known as the forge, is not only "home" to the sons of the blacksmith, who must learn the family trade, but a normal hangout for other village boys.  Beginning by pumping the sheepskin bellows when the coals needed to glow, Adama learned the art of smithing from his father, grandfather and uncle.

At the age of five, Adama's mother took him to visit her parents in another village, where her father was the blacksmith.  One morning, Adama awoke to find that his mother was gone.  He cried for days, not understanding why his mother had abandonned him without an explanation.  He now understands that his mother was an only child; her parents were older and needed someone to keep them company and help them.   Over the years, Adama became very attached to them; was treated as their child and worked with his grandfather at the forge.  When he was 8 years old, they received a notice that he should attend school.  Although he liked school and was most often the first of his class, he remembers that the teacher beat the students, and that he was hit on the hand, fingers and head.  Grandpa thought that "un forgeron n'est pas fait pour etudier"  - a blacksmith is not made for studying- and that it was sufficient to learn to read and write a letter.  His grandmother told him that since he was always first in his class, that others  would want to hurt him -"lui faire mal."   The teacher commented to the class one day that "Adama est le plus petit de la classe, mais il est le plus grand" - that he is the smallest of the class, but at the same time, the biggest.   When someone new moved to the school and competed with him for first place, he sometimes cried for being second, but his grandmother once again comforted him saying that it was not always necessary to be first.
One year when it was time to take the final exams, Adama did not have money for the fee for all of the exams.  He passed two of the three required, but when he returned later with money to pay for taking the exam, it was too late.  The teacher advanced him to the next level anyway based on his high scores on the first two exams.

When Adama completed the equivalent of elementary and middle school, his parents agreed to let him live with an uncle in Sevare, a city far from the village, so he could attend high school.  He cried after his brother left him there, as he did not know the uncle and his family.  He had never been to a city; all was new and different; they paid little attention to him as he was just an extra person in an already crowded family.  One night they locked him out of the house just for spite, and he remembers it well because the next morning he was covered with mosquito bites!  He continued to do well in his studies, especially liked biology, and his teacher encouraged him to apply for medical school.   He already has this in mind since as a child he remembered the good work of a doctor who had treated people in his village.

Adama passed the competitive exam and was admitted to the first year of medical school along with about 2000 others.  His housing was in a university facility; however, since all of the beds were already filled, he was required to sleep on a mattress that slipped under the lower part of bunk beds.
His nose nearly touched the mattress above him, he could not turn over and he had difficulty sleeping.  For part of the year he ended up sharing a larger bed with another student.   The government gave him the equivalent of  10 dollars for his expenses, so eating twice each day at the local village restaurant that served rice with a sauce for 20 cents, was a necessity.

End of the first year and Papa Jon enters the scene-   Adama was returning from Bamako to Kassa to visit his family and took advantage of the long bus ride to review for his final exams.  Although I was seated next to him, I saw that he was studing medical books and  did not to disturb his deep concentration.  Finally, I spent about an hour talking with him, learned of his dream and discovered that only 300 students would be allowed to continue their studies.    We quickly exchanged email addresses before I reached my destination and I told him that I would pay for his medical books  if he was accepted for the next year.  Adama completed his exams and stayed at his uncle's house helping in the blacksmith shop while waiting for the results.  He was afraid to call to see if he had passed and only learned of his success when a friend who was also at the medical school called him.

Year two and one small step closer to realizing his dream, daily life for Adama remains a struggle.  Other students have financil support from their families, while he has none.   He has to do everything for himself, works at his uncle's forge during vacations and distributes ice cream to local vendors in order to earn a little extra money.  Second year students receive about 55 dollars  to help with lodging expenses and 25 dollars per month for food; they have no funds available for buying books or supplies; they are often required to purchase  copies of professors' lectures.  The students had to go on strike in order to force he government to pay the promised allowances for food and lodging on time.

This year I visited the room where Adama has been living for the past 3 years, toured the campus and met some of his fellow medical students.  He shares a 9X15 foot mud brick room with corregated metal roof with another student.  While his roommate sleeps on a metal frame bed, Adama sleeps on a thin mattress on the dirt floor.  During the rainy season, water sometimes leaks in around the walls and he has to move his bed to keep it from getting wet.  He keeps his clothes, his stethoscope and white lab jacket worn when working in the hospital in a suitcase at the foot of his mattress.  His books are stacked on a small table near the door where he can read during the day in this room that has no electricity.  Other students live in similar rooms in the cluster of buildings where they also share common primitive toilet facilities.  They eat most of their meals in the small cafe that prepares rice and three kinds of sauce daily.

Adama has completed his fourth year of medical school and is taking his final exams this week (October 2010).  After returning from our excursion to his village, Adama spent every day reviewing for his exams; his favorite study location, an abandonned construction site in the brush (la brousse) near the university.   If the professors had not gone on strike, he would have finished his exams before my arrival and we could have spent more time together.  I also learned upon my arrival that the computer that students from Lakeridge High School helped send to him, was not working and that he was trying to have it repaired.  If I had known, I would have brought another one for him.  In spite of the challenges, Adama has already delivered babies, helped with surgery, treated patients with infectious diseases and has spent all of his free time volunteering at the hospital in order to gain as much practical experience as possible.  He knows that the people of Mali need more specialized doctors and skilled surgeons, but he has not yet determined a speciality- perhaps pediatics, ob-gyn or surgery.  By preparing and defending a thesis, Adama will receive a PhD in addition to his MD.  He was elected vice-president of the student medical association and is among the top students of his class.

During our time together, Adama was exposed to a life he did not previously know: hotels, restaurants serving complete meals, air conditionned rooms, travel by 4X4, conversations with people working with NGOs, museums and concerts.  By the time I said farewell to Adama at the Bamako Airport, I was convinced that both of our lives had been enriched and that our friendship would endure.  We will certainly see each other again.