Marie Claire's Story

I am 65 years old. This happened to me when I was 15. I remember that when the labor started during my first pregnancy, I was quickly surrounded by my mother and the village traditional birth attendant, who was known to assure a good delivery. They used all of their knowledge and practices on me; they even invoked God and Spirits and medication of our ancestors. All of this was in vain.

	Marie Claire says she has recovered her health and dignity after receiving surgery for obstetric fistula, which she lived with for 50 years.

I stayed in the village unable to deliver for a week, struggling for my life. Since my husband was absent from the village, it came to my father to make the decision to take me to a hospital located about 15 km away from my village. He went there for help and came back the following day with a church-owned car to take me to the district hospital. By that time, I was so tired and weak that I was unable to realize what was going on. The next thing I remember is being told that the baby was pulled out by force and was dead. As for me, I was unable to work or control my urine.

My situation was seen as a punishment for an assumed wrongdoing, since I have been telling people's fortunes since I was child. Two days later, I was taken to a hut located in the middle of the forest, totally isolated from the village. I was fed from time to time by my mother. Despite the tragedy I was experiencing, I decided to keep on living.

I had been struggling against my loneliness, my humiliation, my sickness, and my distress for two years when my husband came back and took me to Conakry, the capital of Guinea. My situation worsened when he died a few months later, leaving me alone, without any income. For the second time, I was alone and isolated, and for the second time in my life, I firmly decided to keep on living.

To survive, I went to the outskirts of the city, where I was not supposed to be known, telling people's fortunes once again. I lived this miserable life until 2006, when the manager of the obstetric fistula project took me to the hospital for treatment. I was 65 years old. I hid my problem from others for 50 years, as the smell of urine drove everybody I tried to approach away. Even my nieces whom I adopted years ago would run from me!

After having surgery twice, I recovered my health and my dignity. Today, there is not any difference between ordinary old women and me. I can go anywhere I want without getting driven away and I can safely do whatever I want to do.

I do not have any contact with my biological family since I left my village 48 years ago. To tell you the truth, my real family is the obstetric fistula project.